"I think if I'd known how hard it was going to be I'd have toughed it out on dialysis." - Babygirl.
Eight years in. Meds twice a day. Ongoing, neverending cautions to avoid infections. Headaches triggered initially by one of the transplant medications that did not resolve when the medication was stopped.
It's hard, at this point, to guess which side of the coin would give you the better quality of life. The short-term death rate is higher with dialyis. Swimming would be harder because of the catheter, and traveling for a vacation with the machine? Not really sure how that would work. And how do we know for sure the migraines wouldn't have become an issue anyway?
There's no backpeddling on the journey: It's the road we're on. There are awesome times and bad times, and Babygirl has become an amazing young woman despite/because of the challenges she face for so many years.
She's kind, loving, funny, generous. She's a great daughter, devoted dog mama, wonderful sister, amazing Auntie. But if wishes were horses, we'd for sure own a large herd.
DeeDee
Tuesday, February 4, 2020
Monday, February 3, 2020
Eight Years Without Your Boy....
Today is the day that Jorge's Mom must dread more than any other day of the year. The anniversary of his passing cannot possibly become any less raw with the passage of time.
He'd be in his 30's now. She has to wonder if he would have had kids, what kind of Dad he would have been, what his life's work would have become.
I have a friend who's been missing her boy this long. There are two days in each month, every single month, that bring her to her knees still.: The day that corresponds to the one on which he arrived, and the day that corresponds to the one on which he went home. Every. Single. Month.
I think of Jorge's Mom on the 'thirds.' Not every month, I'm not diligent enough for that. But often. Whenever I catch a glimpse of the little J that Babygirl had tattoo'd on her arm, I say a prayer for his family.
I've thought about them all day today, remembering the chaos of that day eight years ago. (February Third - The Big Day..... Babygirl wanted, for the first time that I can recall, to go back and actually read the blog from that week (her final takeaway: "You shouldn't have let me eat so many pancakes." LOL). Remembering all the details, all of the crazy, all of the joy! And never, ever, ever forgetting what it cost someone else.
DeeDee
He'd be in his 30's now. She has to wonder if he would have had kids, what kind of Dad he would have been, what his life's work would have become.
I have a friend who's been missing her boy this long. There are two days in each month, every single month, that bring her to her knees still.: The day that corresponds to the one on which he arrived, and the day that corresponds to the one on which he went home. Every. Single. Month.
I think of Jorge's Mom on the 'thirds.' Not every month, I'm not diligent enough for that. But often. Whenever I catch a glimpse of the little J that Babygirl had tattoo'd on her arm, I say a prayer for his family.
I've thought about them all day today, remembering the chaos of that day eight years ago. (February Third - The Big Day..... Babygirl wanted, for the first time that I can recall, to go back and actually read the blog from that week (her final takeaway: "You shouldn't have let me eat so many pancakes." LOL). Remembering all the details, all of the crazy, all of the joy! And never, ever, ever forgetting what it cost someone else.
DeeDee
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