Transplant Halfway Point

Yesterday marked our halfway point.  We have been here just under three weeks and if all goes well will be released on February 14th - Valentine's day.  This point is significant because three weeks ago our life was upended when we got the call.  After the tension of surgery, hospital recovery and getting released from Priscilla the pee hat, we could see our new life at the end of the tunnel.  There is no preset time for our departure, but without complications this marks the halfway point.

Halfway points are significant because they stamp our progress toward a goal.  Hikers feel a sense of accomplishment at the halfway point.  Marathon runners euphorically gauge their stamina against running another 13.1 miles.  The quarter point does not really seem like an accomplishment.  It's as if you really haven't tried, you just started and have a long way to go, you can still turn back.  Mid-way into your journey you realize you are fully committed to your hike or run and are ever more engaged in reaching the goal.  Unlike the hiker or marathon runner analogy, kidney transplant is complete immersion into a new life.  Once the surgeon's scalpel hits your skin and a new organ is grafted into your abdomen, there's no turning back.  You  are fully committed, engulfed in God's plan and you pray for a successful new future.  In the beginning or even at the first quarter, all you can do is follow His plan and pray.

So far ours has been a textbook recovery with no returns to the hospital.  We are very thankful.  Several of our transplant comrades have complications and are remanded to Mayo hospital to undergo additional surgeries from transplant complications.  For us, this is not the case - everything is working according to plan.  We are blessed,  the pee is flowing.  We rely on deep prayer and ask for the rest of the journey to go exactly as planned.

We meet new immigrants arriving for the first time in transplantland.  They arrive weary and scared, not sure of what to expect as they leave the protected confines of the infirmary and begin a five week casita recovery journey.  One naive caregiver greeted me this morning "Good morning my name is Jerald, my brother is being released from the hospital this morning as a new kidney transplant recipient."  He extends his hand in traditional greeting form and looks surprised when I don't reciprocate.  Instead I reply "Welcome, it's nice to meet you, please don't be offended if we don't shake hands here."  "Oh... sorry, yes I guess I will have to get used to these new traditions" as he slowly lowered his hand in remission.  Here in transplantland everybody has a different view on safe hygienic behavior.  Some with mask, some without, some shake, others like us don't.  We err of the side of caution as we are ready to go home and don't want anything to delay our departure.  As the expression goes, It's better to be safe than sorry. 

I trace back the moments leading to this point and sit in awe of the miracles bestowed upon us.  I count our blessings and thank God for our progress so far.  I look forward with faith in His hand on the remainder of our journey.  I find irony in our release date as it is the same day patron Saint Valentine was martyred for protecting Christians while we return to begin our new and extended life.