We got back last night after spending a few days at Mayo undergoing test after consultation after test. The doctors want to know my body really well before they start fooling around with it. The days at Mayo were triumphant – my mom started and finished The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo in less than two days and I got in some really good people watching.
We met with Julia yesterday afternoon and all the tests came back fine – except for my kidney test. That one is kind of important because it’s not the best idea to put grossly toxic chemo in your body if you can’t sift through it correctly. And apparently my dad’s curative idea of eating lots of kidney beans is not a solution. So change of plans today – I’m driving back to Rochester to meet with a nephrologist. It sounds like my kidneys are still pooped out from the last round of chemo. Hopefully he can whip them into shape. My platelets are also pretty low again, which partly explains the masterpiece of bruises I’ve collected. One would think I’ve been playing contact sports, not simply running into tables, doorways and walls… ah well, I’ll get a transfusion on Monday.
Sitting at Mayo the last few days, and sitting other places for weeks, I’ve pointedly felt the transition from my go-go-go self who relishes diving from project to outing to project again, to my new self who’s remembering the lessons learned on simplicity from the last time around.
I’ve become pretty set that the next six months of my life are going to be, well, boring. Boring and crappy. But boring and crappy is all perspective. I remember the days when it was huge if I just walked down a hallway. I remember being so thankful I could finally take a swig of water because my mouth sores had retreated enough. I remember when going to a high school basketball game was a big ordeal – and a big achievement.
I’m setting myself up for that mentality again, and practicing enjoying the small things that I know I’ll miss. Things like being in public places, eating fresh fruits and vegetables, and driving with the windows down and letting the wind blow my hair around – all things I can’t do during transplant time.
It’s not about setting my sights low, but it’s about being realistic. I’ve challenged myself to be more observant, looking harder at the simple things I’ve brushed by before that in fact are full of potential.
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