Sunday, 2 February 2014

A world of magnets and miracles

I will start by saying a belated happy first birthday to my new organs! I can't quite believe it's been a year: the time has whistled by, I guess I've been consumed by a whirlwind of hospital visits, check ups, rehab, highs and lows. It's been an odd year - so much had happened yet seemingly so little. Recovering has taken so much longer than I thought it would've - from trying to regain my lung function, trying to put on weight, trying to build back my muscles and strength (I still feel wobbly despite cycling and hitting the gym)... To deciding on a career path, finding jobs, finding (and losing) loves, rekindling friendships and grasping back my independence. As I said, it's been full of highs and lows, the lows either revolving around that "kindly race of men" (though substitute kindly for 'lost and confused'), or that feeling of limbo that creeps silently in like a morning mist, and without realising you find that you feel utterly lost.
"What now" has been the shape this limbo has taken, haunting my days and my nights, coming to the forefront of mind at poignant moments when I feel as if my bungee cords have just been cut (rejection of any sort seems to hold the knife). I don't fall because, as the optimist I am, I know other things, other jobs, other people, will be round the corner. It's the unsettling, horrible and disturbing feeling of floating that to me is the most terrifying - not knowing what comes next or how even to take the next step.

It sounds cheesy but I've learnt a great deal about myself this year. I think I've coped with an onslaught of shit reasonably well - I've definitely crumbled, and at times it's taken a good kick up the arse to regain my sanity. But I've powered through, and even surprised myself at this new found resilience in all aspects of life. I guess I care more about myself - my health mostly, body AND mind. I've gone through too much hurt and pain and hospitals and upset to let things destroy all I've endured and worked for.
At my 1 year post tx clinic the other day, we were looking at my blood level chart - a huge piece of card that has tracked all my liver levels and other important blood results throughout my whole transplant journey - from being listed to present day (yes, it's massive.) Seeing my liver levels creep - no, jump up each time before my transplant, to seeing them beautifully and steadily glide down after, was just amazing. The consultants couldn't be happier, and neither could I. Seeing my levels so perfect blur out the hair loss, the chubby face, the shaking, the bruising, the loss of appetite... the necessary evils the immunos inflict in this game of give and take. 

So, what next? The dreaded question. There are points of clarity within the hazy future, I see where I need and want to be going yet that path looks a little blurred and undistinguished. I suppose I'll just have to build it up as I go along, hoping I don't fall through the illusion - the often unreachable visions of grandeur and happiness I create. I seem to make progress - apply for jobs, sort everything out, write, read, conspire - yet an exacerbation will take hold and pull me back to complacency and stagnancy while my energy levels are in the dumps. It's a vicious cycle - once I pick up I attack everything with gusto, jump into life head first, stay out late and as my mum would say, "burn the candle at both ends", until I become run down again. I guess I need to chill, my lungs can't keep up with the chaotic life my mind is aching to pursue. It upsets me, when people I know seemingly have an inexhaustible life force and energy - one that I'm achingly jealous of. 

Today is a day of catch-up after a tumultuous week. I find myself sat here with my tea, feeling bruised from last night's 4am return, and a cumulative bruising of body and mind from a week of late nights and befuddlement . For matters of the heart, in this instance I'm drawn to say body and mind not just mind, because it seems my whole being has been broken and bent. I'm really quite unsure why I feel like this to the extent I do, I suddenly feel as if a melancholic dew is covering everything I see, everything I do, piercing my mind and clouding my vision with an illusive and intangible greyness. I know it'll be gone in a day or two, I just didn't expect to feel so empty. I've prescribed myself gin, Fleetwood Mac and dancing, and got hit on by 3 over 40's last night so the future is... bright.
I'll leave you with this piece of genius, I guess if you want to get deep you could say my scar is now an integral part of what makes up me, or you could just think it's fucking cool. 

Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young
In a world of magnets and miracles
Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary
The ringing of the division bell had begun
Looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us
To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side
Steps taken forwards but sleepwalking back again
Dragged by the force of some inner tide
Encumbered forever by desire and ambition 
There's a hunger still unsatisfied
Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon 
Though down this road we've been so many times

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