When the Scars Fade

I lay in bed the other night alone. The covers were off and the ceiling fan was whirling around. It was a pretty warm, inside the house and outside. And I lay there, watching the fan and not sleeping, because Ben was downstairs watching the NFL draft, and also I couldn't allow myself to fall asleep because I hadn't yet taken my immunosuppressants. 

I decided to run my hands over my skin.  My arms mostly and then my stomach. Sometimes I like to feel places on my abdomen where surgeons have cut me, and I smooth my fingers over each area,  pressing into the tissue. I like to see how deep the indents are, if there are any.  Just about all of the "gunshot wounds," as Ben calls them, are now are identified by raised lines of lighter than my normal skin--the kind of skin that forms when you cut yourself and the body tries to heal. This is called scar tissue, and it's what they say most of my kidneys were covered with by the time they both failed.  

Much lower on the right side of my abdomen, getting closer and closer to--yes--my pubic bone is the six-inch scar where my transplant surgeon cut me and inserted my dad's kidney. The strange thing is that I almost hesitate to call it a scar anymore. The line where the incision occurred is so thin, so light and so faded that it's pretty difficult to see it. I feel like someone would have to put their eyeballs really close to my stomach to see that there's a piece of skin that just isn't like the rest that's unbroken around it.  The other scars from other surgeries--my appendix, dialysis and the removal of my ovary--are pretty clear. This one though, my transplant scar...even I am surprised by how much it's changed over the past four years. Yep, four years ago, my surgeon sliced through my skin, muscle, fat and other tissue and put in a new kidney.  

I've been struggling lately to cope with my health lately and the fact that I HAD to have a kidney transplant to be OK. I couldn't be like everyone else and just avoid doing this and keep living a normal life. I had to have a transplant.  There wasn't really a way around it. The experience of kidney disease, kidney failure, the transplant and even some of the related events that followed (CMV, rejection, no immune system, miscarriage and so on and so forth), was so traumatizing. Emotional marks were made. But four years later the outward physical evidence of that period in my life is starting to disappear.  The area where the surgery actually took place is mostly healed. 

I've been wondering lately if it's time for the rest of me to become "mostly healed," too.  

The Last Trail: In Pursuit of Eagles and Silence

We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature — trees, flowers, grass — grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence.... We need silence to be able to touch souls.  ~Mother Teresa

The last trail trek Ben and I explored was in February, on one of those unseasonably warm days when you think, "Yeah, we all gon' die from climate change."  There's a state park near us called Mason Neck where you can walk along the shoreline of the Potomac River and take in some really amazing views. The wooded portion of the park has become renown for its bird-watching. 

I'm not a bird-watcher. In fact, many birds terrify me, and not just because of Alfred Hitchcock's ability to turn this species into creatures who would jump at the chance to blot out the whites of every human eyeball. Last year, whenever I'd take Burton out onto our back deck to listen to the morning birdsong in trees behind our yard, BLUE JAYS and some bird with an orange stomach would dive-bomb us every time.  I like my birds to be a little less aggressive.  

Fortunately, during our short walk from the Potomac River shore at Mason Neck park to an area where several bald eagle's nests are hidden a little deeper in the trees, we never had to cower from crew of birds crouching on phone lines, or protect our eyeballs from some angry (birds? lol) blue jay.  

The Hamilton Post I've Been Waiting For

Something awesome happened recently.

Ben and I went to see HAMILTON!!!!!

LOL I know right? 

Chronically Expecting Something

“Peace begins when expectation ends.” ― Sri Chinmoy

I received some not great news on my birthday.  Or maybe a more accurate description of what came to pass is that I had an expectation of what I wanted to hear from my kidney transplant nurse, and that's not what I heard.

I've been doing some blood work and tests since the end of 2016 with the goal of being cleared to get a baby in my belly at some point in the future.  My blood work isn't great. My creatinine is above 2 now (the last reading was 2.6).  That last pregnancy really rocked my health world.  Things most likely won't go back to the way they were, when I was "healed" or whatever the hell that was, unless I have another kidney transplant. So it seems like this is as good as it gets.  

News About Health

So, what I said in my first post of the year is true. I got a new job!  I got a brand new job at a brand new company.  For the past six months, I've been working for the American Psychological Association.

That's their logo.   

[Insert Adjective That Rhymes With] Thirty

You're not the same woman you were a decade ago. If you're lucky, you're not the same woman you were last year. The whole point of aging, as I see it, is change.  If we let them, our experiences can keep teaching us about ourselves.

--Oprah--

I'm 30 today! Leaving one decade behind. Entering another. I started putting together a mostly-wordy post about what I've learned in not only the past 10 years, but the past 30.  Ambitious, right? And also BORING. You don't care what I've learned! I barely even care what I've learned because I know that all the theories I have about how to do life right and how to love people will continue to be debunked for as long as I'm alive. What's more exciting than a list of lessons is looking back at some of my favorite memories over the past decade!  A trillion warm and smiley feelings filled my heart putting together these collages of  photos showing some of my favorite experiences in life thus far.  My 20s were: curious, eye-opening, FUN, care-free (at least more care-free than this very moment), sometimes confusing and sad, filled with a lot of self-doubt and naturally a lot of self-discovery.  

Ring in the New Year

I got to be a part of something super cool on Jan. 1: the engagement of one of my very best friends!  

Needing Nature

My job is awesome because it offers basically FREE onsite fitness classes to all the employees. “Basically FREE” means that each class costs one dollar.  And that dollar doesn’t actually go toward paying the instructors.  It goes into a glass box filled with other dollars. And those dollars are raffled off at the end of the month to the employee who essentially attended the most fitness classes.  The location of the classes and the idea that someone might PAY ME to get in shape pretty much eliminated most of my excuses for refusing to exercise--money, distance to the class, time. So now, I’m back to doing yoga! Yay. And just because these classes are free and at work does not mean that my yoga teacher isn’t legit.  We’re working on headstands, OK?!

One of the things I learned about myself during the meditation part of class is that when the teacher tells us to “imagine our paradise” or whatever, I always see myself walking through nature with Ben. Our hikes and trips to National Parks and overseas parks are some of my favorite memories.

On a hike through Glacier National Park

A Good Year

I have to make a selfish statement:  2016 was not a bad year, for me.  I say “selfish” because I wasn’t that happy to see it end, like so many others seemed to be. I was honestly a little sad.  My 2016 started and ended with a great bottle of champagne and a little party with my very best friends in life. The year started and ending about the same actually, but fortunately, there were a few differences.

First Day of 2016

I started 2016 reeling from my miscarriage and recovering the sanity I lost from having arguments with my insurance company over not being covered for some services, thanks to some "coordination of benefits" bullshit.

I started 2016 with one ovary on my left side. And surprisingly and thankfully, this ovary did not have a very large cyst just hanging out on top, plotting to twist the life out of it so it could join it's sister, "Right Side Ovary" in the grave of dead organs.  

I started 2016 in a job that was no longer bringing me joy, some days feeling undervalued and just plain bored.

At the beginning of 2016 I was given instructions to hold off on trying for another baby, and then given instructions on when to show up for the first treatment of my kidney’s acute rejection episode, likely caused by my failed pregnancy.

But by some miracle of heaven and all that is magical in this world, I ended 2016 in a completely different and GOOD place.

Spooky Tales: That Time When I Didn't Have Insurance

A little over a month ago, I quit a job that I'd had for the last seven seven years.  And in the process, I gave up the insurance plan that I'd have for about that same amount of time. 

I had officially transferred into the the bleak and horrifying world of the...

UNINSURED.**

Image from Scoopnext via Huffington Post

Just Us for For Now

"Is there a word for adults when they aren't parents?"

Steppa laughs.  "Folks with other things to do?"

"Like what things?"

"Jobs, I guess.  Friends. Trips.  Hobbies."

--from "Room"

Today, I confessed an embarrassing concern I'd had to a friend.  

After my miscarriage, I'd worried that Ben and I would grow bored with each other if, down the line, it ended up being just the two of us...forever. I told her I know that's ridiculous but almost a year ago (can you believe it) I had a thought one day-- that if Ben and I didn't have children, we'd have nothing to talk about from that point on.  I think I was concerned about this because having kids was just the next step in our plan, and we'd spent so long talking about it that it seemed unlikely that we'd ever find anything worthwhile to do, or talk about, again.

Many people, mostly parents actually, have assured me that this is an INSANE worry to have.  



Five Years Max

I think it's time for a little kidney update. So, here goes.

My transplant nephrologist recently told me that I'm probably only going to have my dad's kidney for another two years.  That would put its transplant life at just five years.

Trust me. I know that's not a long time.  We all hear and read stories of people having their kidney transplants for 10, 20, even 30 years.  Well, this is the story of the girl who only had her transplant for five years.  

I really wished, hoped, and at one time I prayed, that I would get to be in the first group, regaling others with the success story of my kidney transplant. But five years is not a success story.  It's more like a failure. 

Homeowning: The Pros & Cons

Last Spring we asked my friend to help us find a house.  Three months, a few screaming matches, and four rejected offers later we found our humble abode.  It was a little further away from our ideal location. But it cost less, has more space, and has better renovations than some of the other places we considered. It also doesn't hurt that we live ten minutes away from my favorite store.  Wegmans. Yes.  My favorite store is a grocery store because I am hungry...all the time.

Around July 22, Ben and I celebrated the one-year anniversary of us closing on our first home.  Around this time last year, we sat in a room for about two hours signing our names over and over again, sometimes reading the fine print, and then I handed over a check with what seemed like a billion zeros written down for our down payment. 

Now that we've had a mortgage for a year, I've decided that home owning is...a nice idea.  But it's not the BEST idea.  Here are my pros and cons, with a few of Ben's mixed in.

When I Talk About My Miscarriage

A list of some things that happened when I've talked about my miscarriage:

A female relative sends a message to me about her miscarriage.

Another female relative sends a message about her miscarriage.

Another female relative sends me a message about her miscarriage.

A colleague tells me about her miscarriages.  

A colleague tells me about his friend's stillbirth.

An aunt tells me about her miscarriage.  

Another aunt tells me about her miscarriage, but also her stillbirth.

A colleague and his wife take me to lunch to share the story of their son's stillbirth.

A friend tells me about her relative who had a miscarriage.

My nurse at my kidney doctor's office cries with me while telling me about her miscarriage.

The same colleague and his wife share with me everything they went through following their son's death.  

My kidney doctor tells me about his and his wife's miscarriage. 

The neighbor with whom I started walking to the commuter train in the morning tells me that he and his wife suffered miscarriage.  

A colleague tells me about her miscarriage.

The security guard at my office tells me about her miscarriage.

Posts from the Archives: Part 2

I really liked revisiting my posts from a few years ago in May.  So I'm doing it again in July. SO SO fascinating to see where my head was at and what things I was interested in a year ago and even earlier.  

Apparently, I didn't write a blog post in July last year.  This was probably because I was still trying to keep my pregnancy a secret. You know, the "first trimester way."  So, instead you get to revisit...

Mid-Year Review: Is 2016 One of My Best?

This doesn't really need to be said again BUT... 2015 was s*&t.  I guess I just don't want you to forget that fact.  I don't want to forget it.  Yet, if I'm being honest, sometimes I do.  

I started this year with one goal: find more ways to enjoy my life.  This is unoriginal.  Spend five seconds on Pinterest and you'll find enough "Live Laugh Love" images that you'll want to rebel against the notion.  "I REFUSE TO LIVE, LAUGH OR LOVE!" you'll shout.  The more this idea gets thrown in our faces, the less genuine and urgent it feels.

I chose this broad goal because I felt like I spent too much of 2015 doing the opposite of enjoying my life.  I'm a recovering control freak and psycho planner.  And when Ben and I agreed  to "plan for" our baby, I relapsed into my old ways of trying to control the process and the outcome of every single situation.  And everyone knows that when you try to control everything, you enjoy NOTHING.  

Three Years, Three Things

Ben and I celebrated our third wedding anniversary on June 15. YAY.  For this year's anniversary post, we each answered a set of questions, a few that came from outside sources, about our relationship.  This post is a long one, so feel free to skip to the end and watch a clip from one of Ben's and my favorite movies and our favorite filmmaker.  ***You'll also be able to hear the song we danced our first dance to playing in the background LOL***

Three favorite things about being married:
Jewel: I love the feelings of safety and security in a relationship that come with marriage.  And I like how I can say whatever I want to Ben and he's not judgmental. That might just be unique to Ben, but I do think there should be open lines of communication in every marriage.

Ben: It's such a comfort knowing you can come home and someone is going to listen to you gripe about work or ask you if everything is OK and generally BE THERE.  Jewel is so tied into the DNA of my life now that if I have to spend a few days away from her I pretty much forget how to function like a respectable member of society.  Two other great things about being married have to be the financial security and the division of labor.  I might never cook again.

ANNIVERSARY WEEKEND 2016

Faith: Am I Ready to Hope Again?

Hope is much like a cat in the Dark--you only know it's there by the reflection of its eyes--which means there is Light nearby.

-- Terri Guillemets--

I'm not a pessimist.  And, despite everything that's happened, I don't think I'm turning into one.  I did think the pessimist spirit was gaining on me for a bit, but it never actually caught up.  

I used to be an optimist.  I hesitate to call myself one now.  The first definition Google provides for that type of person is someone who is "hopeful and confident about the future."  Yeah, that doesn't quite describe me really. 

On average, I have not been very hopeful or confident about my future.  But sometimes, confetti sized images, of a future that could be....not just any future...but one where I get everything I want...float down into my thoughts.

A future where I am healed.  A future where I am a mom.  A future where I'm hopeful and confident about...anything.  

Three Things NOT Related to My Health Status

My next kidney doctor appointment is on June 22.  And, WOW, for once, nothing majorly dramatic is happening in my health life.  

Posts from the Archives

I'm working on new material, so I thought it would be fun/lazy to remind you of some stuff I've written in the past, around this same time in years prior.