early days post-transplant

In those early ICU days, I would describe waking up with complete anxiety in the mornings. There was an intense need to look upon James. I could not ease this incredible emotion without being able to hold his hand. I crave that same need for nearness these days. I shake in anticipation in the waiting room. I am easily brought to tears. The difference is that I am not finding a lot of comfort in his presence. I am desperate for him to be awake and arousable, but at the same time, it is heart-wrenching to watch James thrash and scream in severe pain. I can accept a level of helplessness. (It has become a familiar emotion). That being said, I experience a depth of pain in response to James' discomfort. This is a consequence of love and connection.

The last few days have been ripe with challenges and complications, but also moments of great success and accomplishment. We have gone from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other. There is no post-transplant euphoria. We are deep in the trenches of post-transplant realities, and it an entirely different set of uncertainties. It is impossible to predict or project into the future. We continue to live a single day at a time (and in truth, from one hour to the next). The days each bring movement in many different directions. We will have to find comfort in a general trend forward.

There have been some scares (for all of us), but I would rather share the uplifting news. (The rest is all part of post-transplant complications and all within the realm of expectations for a re-transplant recovery process. I have a need to focus on the positive). James did chest physiotherapy, and with some encouragement, James nodded enthusaistically at the suggestion of sitting on the edge of the bed. He was willing to make an attempt despite the pain and discomfort. Then, James took it a step further. That was pun-intended. James was able to stand up and take a few steps. It was absolutely remarkable. I cried in pure joy and pride. I didn't get a photo of him on his feet. (I was trying to find Kleenex). I do have a wide grin from the side of the bed:

That's all for now. 

love. love. love.