My Double Lung Transplant

Monday, November 30, 2009



The Greek call resonated from a bathroom stall directly across from me. In response, 2 additional calls of "OPA!" answered, followed by gails of laughter and looks of shock. This call was issued after the chick in stall #3 dropped her glass full of booze onto the tiled bathroom floor and every annoyed somewhat-sober girl looked on in dismay. Finally, after a few minutes of incoherent mumbles, Chick-in-Stall #3 emerged, wobby-legged and too-high heeled and sauntered over to the sink where she at least had the common sense to wash her hands and still use soap.

Finally, Stall #1 opened and my friend emerged, not quite as drunk as Chick-from-Stall #3 but still drunk enough to have her awesomeness magnified by 100.

Exit Chick-from-Stall #3.

"She's the one from who dropped her glass," I said.

"I know: I'm the one who yelled 'OPA!'"

And so was my Saturday night - a fabulous one at that. Actually, the entire day was fabulous, where I drove down to Mississauga to meet some wonderful people and celebrate my friends 26th! I havent seen her since about April so it was double the fun! And double the fun now that I can celebrate sufficiently and not worry about walking distance and so forth and breathing! Such a blessing! It was a wonderful 2 day spectacular and I look forward to (hopefully!) many more like it:)

But random-rediculous-shouts-of -"OPA!" -resonating -from- a -bathroom- stall wasn't the only random thing to occur. I have never witnessed so many people pass out as I did this night in one spot. I don't know if there's some mysterious magnet in that part of the floor of the bar that makes incredibly drunk people pass out but whatever it is, it works like a charm.

We hadn't even been at this pub for an hour when the first one went down - standing up. Seeing incredibly drunk chicks so intoxicated that they pass out standing up is just not cool. I mean, it's funny, but like, people don't realize how bad it makes them look. Sure, it has happened to me but that was years ago and I had just gotten over Norwalk and was only 79lbs and drunk on Tequila. Not my fault...

The second one went down right in the middle of the floor and took a random dude with her. Wiped out right flat on her ass and brought down those around her. I don't think she was so intoxicated that she passed out but rather slipped and fell. Still, it was the same spot.

The 3rd/4th (seeing as #2 took a spill with a random spectator) was a dude who was at least making a conscious effort to not pass out whilst trying to stand up. He swayed back and forth repeatedly, thus shoving me repeatedly into the shoddily (probably stapled on) table -top -to- a -barrel that made our table. Shove shove shove I went. Back and forth drunk dude went. At one point he was squashed between two other guys who just happened to realize they knew eachother, and when they raised their hands over him to high-five they punched him in the head. He didn't even notice but he did sway a little away from me and fucked off to go pass out on someone else.

Marvelous darling, marvelous.

We left the pub at 2:30. I was really tired and kind of sat there the whole night like an unenthusiastic log (which i'm regretting now) but suffice it to say i DID have a blast! It was just really croweded which i'm still trying to get used to which is why i sat there but enough of that. I HAD TONS OF FUN NONETHELESS.

We parked far, far away and found my friends car eventually, after a long stop at a hotdog stand on-demand. We passed a car accident on the way home and didn't fall asleep till 5:30. We were all freezing and everyone made fun of my paw mittens (citing they were 'immasculating' if i gave them to man and that they looked like children's mittens. My mum even commented that I needed some 'adult' mits). But at least i didn't have frozen hands.

Came home yesterday exhausted (but the good kind of exhausted) and in the foggy rain, sad to be leaving my wonderful weekend behind. Overall i had a frigging blast and would do it again. I am so happy and thankful for everything!

Friday, November 27, 2009

First Aerobics Class: HUGE FAIL

So I woke up all stoked to be doing a beginners aerobics class. Being a former dancer I thought it would be super easy but figured i should start slow as to not fuck anything with myself up.

So i ate my oatmeal and zoomed off to the club at 10:15. Class started at 10:30. Go figures I was the only one under the age of 40 but I didn't care. We get into the studio and it starts off with walking on the spot.

This is where i encountered my first problem.

My pants are too long and as a result the crotch sags hugely thus hindering walking on the spot adventures. My knees wouldn't go up too high b/c of the saggy crotchness. So there was that. Then the fact that I have no idea the co-ordination of how this aerobics instructor was going to about her things. I was arguably the most uncoordinated person there. I beleived that having several years of dance experience behind me that I would automatically be better than everyone else, but truth be told, when my limbs started flailing and I heard the instructor laugh into her mic as she caught a glimpse of me drowning in the middle of the workout floor through the mirror, that i was more than a little fucked.

Marching marching marching like damn soldiers. Lift your leg here, lose it there, flail your arm here, whack older woman next to you there. For safety's sake just stop moving and bend over and act out of breath to reduce the chance of injuring those around you when your limbs break off and fly all over the place. I was not - i repeat, not - out of breath in any capactiy, but it was my legs. THEY WERE ON FIRE. FIRE I TELLS YOU. How my thighs didn't just burn through my pants and set the place ablaze is beyond me, but when the marching refused to stop and my legs were burning beyond all withstandable pain, i had to 'get a drink' and beelined it to the door. I didn't want to offend the instructor but I just couldn't keep up. At one point i even got dizzy and felt like i would puke and that was the last straw. I guess instead of eating right before you should eat an hour before?

Or something to that effect...

As i was leaving the studio - dressed shamefully - i noticed that had i stayed just 2 seconds longer i would've made it to the 'cool down' yoga portion which would've been my saving grace. I fucking hate feeling lazy and i feel fat and really bad about myself today b/c i couldn't keep up.

But never fear, I will try again next week!!

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

When Doctors do Weird/Human things


- eat muffins

- kiss babies

- spit in your eye by accident

- drool accidentally whilst talking to you

- are seen in public doing normal things

- walking babies

- with their family

- smoking

- eating in general

- on their blackberries

- laughing at normal things

- laughing with friends

- doing non-medical things

- sleeping

- wearing clothes that aren't scrubs

- wear winter coats

- doing nothing

- sitting down

- talk about person shit that doesn't pertain to you

Have you seen doctors doing normal things? Normal things that for doctors, thus become weird? Alex and I are having this conversation and we came up with quite the list.

What are your observations of bizarrenes?

In other news, the trip to TO was good yesterday. No more amphotericin nebs, down to 15mg of pred, arranging port-o-cath surgery, and am taking T2's again after being mauled by an over-enthusiastic doctor yesterday who crushed me.

"Great to see you!" *squish*

Saturday, November 21, 2009

"Unofficially", of course

Let's go back....


Chapter 1: “Unofficially” – of course

This is not the kind of story you want to fall in love with – because to fall in love with it, is to fall in love with hurt, pain, misery, and death. But maybe, just maybe, through all the showers of tears and rage, you can find a smattering of joy, a sprinkling of happiness, and a whole lot of laughter.

After all, when life hands you an illness…spread it

* * * * * *

January 2007
I sat in Dr. Mary’s office. She was a smallish woman with short brown hair and monkey teeth. Extremely scary to me when we first met, I soon learned that if I became a compliant patient and heeded her advice, she would like me a lot more. After 2 successful years of terror(or so I felt), I could feel something – maybe genuine like for me - seeping from her and infiltrating the air around me.

But maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe she had something horrible to tell me, like I was dying. Oh my god, that’s it! Oh my god start planning now! my mind screamed.

I felt panic-stricken.

Dr. Mary removed her glasses and eyed me. “Stop looking like that,” she chided.

I clutched my chest. “Like what? Like I’m dying?!” I asked.

She wrinkled her eyebrows. “You’re not dying,” she informed me flatly. “But you’re not getting any better either.”
And this is when I found out I needed a lung transplant.

Unofficially, of course.

I felt the sudden urge to ask Dr. Mary – unofficially of course – if she did in fact, hate or like me, or if she was impartial to both. Maybe she had no feelings about me after all…

Maybe she had no feelings.

Maybe she hated the world and all its tiny children.

Maybe she was a Grinch. After all, she was wearing green today. A festive Grinch.

So there I sat in her hard wooden chair, flashes of tiny children, Grinches, and hatred hot on my brain. Her words – mere doctoral smatterings – failed to reach me, and instead floated into my ears through a concrete tunnel.

“Bree? Are you actually listening to me?” Insert pen tapping angry notebook here. Insert doctor who may or may not hate me, there.

“You said I need a lung transplant.” The wall ahead of me was concaved I noticed.

Dr. Mary sighed.

“Not exactly; you’re still a while off. I had a man as a patient with your lung condition who waited 10 years before deciding it was time for one.” Pen tap.

10 years, I thought. Holy fuck. What a miserable life. Not for me, my mind decided.

Dr. Mary droned on, on to the point that she took the shape and form and sound of a Charlie Brown teacher. Time slowed, babies stopped being born, and she concluded the appointment with the ever-impressionable statement:
“And in the future – lung transplant.”

I was 21; I was 21 and I needed a lung transplant.

“Unofficially”, of course.

* * * *

I skidded, slipped, and slided my way to my ’93 red Ford Tempo shittily parked across the street. The act of slipping and almost falling (subsequently breaking my head apart) left me out of breath. I threw my body into the drivers seat, turned the car on, blasted the heat, and started crying. I cried so hard that my short – of-breathness got worse with the effort of being upset. This just made me more upset.

A lung transplant, my mind reminded me, as if I had forgotten.

I hit the steering wheel. I was having an Oprah moment, where you see a guest talking about a profound or impactful moment that makes go ‘aha!’, or has some great markings on their life.

In my case, this was more like a skid mark. Profound; but at the age of 21, not for the right reasons.

A lung transplant. How does ones brain acknowledge that? How can you register and go about accepting that? Ever?

You don’t.

You put your car in reverse, back out of your shittily parked spot, and you get the hell home.

And then you forget about it.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Technology this... that.

Are we really so lazy these days that we can't carry books around in our bags and need some contraption created by Amazon to digitally upload books to read? Are our fingers so crippled from fucking around on BlackBerry and Facebook and MSN that we physically can't bring ourselves to flip a damn page anymore and have to resort to merely touching a 'one-touch' button and have some computer chip do it for us? Because that's where it seems the world is going.

I just saw a little news feature on an iBook, where, god forbid people set foot in a book store and roam around whilst looking for desired literature to enjoy...No, lets just go online, upload the book, and only enjoy the 10% of it.

I dunno about you, but maybe I truely am a book whore. Maybe i put too much emphasis on having the physical thing in my hands. I like the feel of books - the weight, the design, the feel of the pages and covers and stuff...I like the smells of new and old books...and I like watching my collection grow!

I think if i had an iBook I would cry, b/c i'd have nothing to show for my sick addiction. There'd be no sense of accomplishment at the end b/c there's nothing to book mark all the pages you've actually read through. It's just touch, touch, touch, you're done. I dunno.

Maybe I have mental issues. Clearly i've put too much thought into the iBook.

Still no mailage from the Wildertimes. I'm beginning to think Canada Post hates my soul. To quote Jenna, "If Canada Post had a crotch to kick..."

Which i aptly came up the rear and replied with, "I'd kick it right in its ambiguous genitalia."

Today will be spent in my new Reading Hole - a lovely tiny couch located away from the kitchen and thus food and all the way over in the living room, where i will promptly melt into the asthetically ancient fabric of the 1980's style couch and into the world of either An Echo in the Bone, Galway Bay, or Dawn on a Distant Shore...

Wednesday, November 18, 2009


it's the end of the world as we know it, and i just danced in my kitchen in my rolled up sweatpants and my dance-style socks, with the best cup of tea i've made in days, and i feel fine.

life is beautiful.

now if only my friends were here to dance silly-style with me...

Still no postcardage from the untrustworthy Canada Post. I besmirch thy name you unreliable people you. But it's ok, mailage is coming. No dreams of it yet.

Back to dancing alone. Should probably not stomp and jump around as much as I am (not out of breath either - amazing!)for fear I may tear myself open and/or lose a boob since i can't really feel them.

What would my dance teacher say?

Probably something along the lines of, "well as long as you're wearing a good supportive sports bra....and we're dancers; not elephants!"

Loves it.

Monday, November 16, 2009

I besmirch thee, Canada Post!

*shakes fist in rage*

GIVE ME MY DAMN POSTAGE! I MAVE MAILABLES ON THE WAY! The friends have already received their exciting arrivals and I have yet to have 1 single shred of excitement to rip open.

*falls on floor and screams*

Jenna broke her silence and admitted to me she mailed something to us lovely ladies last week whilst frollicking up in the Wildnerness. Seeing as she and the Yukon live 4 hours away from the nearest dot of civilization, the letters had to be dropped off while on a trip 'into town'. Katey and Krystal have received theirs; I have not.

I am angry.

I want my mailables, damnitt. I want them now!

Now, i am not too shocked it hasnt arrived yet. Usually my spidey senses clue me in and i'll dream about it and bam, it arrives the next day. But so far, no dreams about postage lovin' fun.

But still!

*strangles mailbox*

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Oh Life...

I would like a little motivation, please.

A sprinkling would be sufficient for this mind 'o mine.

Reading chair+grey sky+heating pad on back+tea= incredibly comfy and unlikely to move any time soon.

I feel like if someone came into this room and grabbed my arm, they could just pull me off of this couch and i would deflate and melt into the hardwood floor.

I am just not motivated today, and I feel like I should be. But alas, here I sit, on this grey Sun Day, staring at my cats fat ass and a scummy fish tank, (and i stare longingly at the vacant fire place which dad swears he'll clean out and eventually light for me), and there isn't really any other place I would rather be.

Besides frollicking in a forest - if i had the energy to do it, which I don't.

I don't think anything is wrong with me from a medical stand point, i think it's just one of those days. Thankfully i've been on that stupid tummy medication for over a week now that the feeling of antsyness has disappeared. I am a very lucky girl.

Random, but here is what i've eaten today:
- 2 and a half peices of bacon
- 2 peices of multigrain toast with honey
- a Nature Valley bar
- a tea

Not too bad really, and probably doesn't really warrant a work out, but i still want to go for a walk at some point b/c there would be nothing worse than falling into that lack-of-exercise trap and melting into a puddle or pile of goo over time. There's nothing that makes me sadder than seeing fellower tx'ers who've gone and let themselves get fat after having their life given back to them. THAT WILL NOT BE ME. I CAN BREATHE AND I WILL NOT WASTE IT.

But i guess i'm entitled to a few lazy days?

My thing is, i know once i get off said lazy ass and walk, that I will feel better.

Oh why can't i live hear a rainforest? That would be motivation enough.

Until then, children. Enjoy your lazy sunday.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Eva's Blog

Eva's Blog:

Eva is waiting for her second tx, and needs it badly. A Canadian like myself, she has a documentary that aired at the Toronto International Film Festival and opened to rave reviews. It will be airing on CBC on Nov. 16th:

I encourage everyone to watch it! I myself have never seen it but have been wanting to since I found out about it this past year. Send your love and support and prayers that Eva gets that call she so desperately needs! Thanks so much!

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

And dream I do....

This is the dream I had this morning:

In the midst of a zombie attack, my dad and I went to the Science Centre. We could only go for a while b/c I had a clinic appt at 2 that interfered w w/e it was we were seeing. In the parking lot my phone rang. It was my co-ordinator. She was excited. She was calling to tell me that while I would probably be mad, my clinic appointment was cancelled. It was cancelled b/c the results of my last bronch showed no rejection or infection, and that the appt would be a waste of my time and essentially pointless. I was very happy.

Enter real life: I woke up this morning and had my morning routine. Around 10:45 I called asking if the results of last weeks bronch were back. She called back 15 minutes later. She informed me that my results showed no rejection or infection, and no fungal infection. I was so happy that I cried.

So yes. You may laugh at my spidey senses or not beleive them, but they are real nonetheless!!

And here's an excerpt/story or w/e about a real hallucination I had while recovering in the ICU:

The walls were white. They were so white they were silver blue. My room was cold and I lay in bed. I was nothing but a head; I had no body. Everything was a winter wonderland to me even though it was the middle of summer, even though I had no concept of time.

I looked up to the right. The light bulb. It was the brightest light I had ever seen. All around me was awash in white and time seized to exist. A ghost. A ghost in my lightbulb, looking down at me, watching me....protecting me? I knew she was there but I also knew she wasn't real. She was blonde and stared at me in the lightbulb...The brightest lightbulb I had ever seen...

The brightest lightbulb, although it had no bulb, just a ghost.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

The Scary House on Scary Lane....and 100 stairs

First, I have to state how proud I am of myself for having gotten all my meds (temp, blood sugar testing, gastro pill and the 1/2 hour wait until i can eat, and then the wretched nebulized amphotericin included) and all my pills taken and completed by 9:15 this AM. I started at 9 and was done everything by 9:15 so the fact that I woke and got straight to work paid off! Very proud of myself! Had some orange juice, a banana, and Nature Valley bar for breakfast. Go me!

Ok, onto the pics!
The Ascent: This is not all 100 stairs: after you get passed the steel part at the very top, there's a little bridge you must cross, and then the rest of the stairs (about 25-35) follow. Next slide please...
WE MADE IT! The view from the top...Unfortunately, kinda ugly:
The Scary, Scary House, on Scary, Scary Lane...
The gates...says "WYOMING 1860"

Sunday, November 8, 2009

The last of the summer days...

While friends like Alice in South Africa and Evlyn in Australia are rejoincing in the onset of summer weather, we here in Ontario are on our very, very, very last days of it - if it's even still around. The last two days have been wonderfully delicious, with temps of around 15*C and higher. Perfect for being outdoors and getting things done and generally having windows open and loving the fact that we can still have them open without someone bitching about how cold it's making the house. Today was no exception. It was apparently 18*C and today was the day that I walked 100 stairs with Krystal! And walk them we did! I got pics but still have to upload them. But let me tell you this people: it was damn easy. I wasn't out of breath at all. You'd think 100 stairs would be daunting, considering this coming from a girl who could barely scale 2 stairs let alone 98 additional ones a little over 3 months ago. But alas my kittens today I did! And then some!

We had no additional location in mind with regards to where we were going to walk once we reached the top, so we just kept going. That destination had us going up - to the big houses - the Victorian mansion houses - which reside in the highest part of the city. History says that in our city, the biggest houses (built during the 1800's) were built on the top of the hill so that in the event of a flood, the poor people who lived at the bottom would suffer the effects and essentially die first. Cruel, but very Victorian. And holy fuck you should see theses houses! They are both scary and immaculate at once! I think the pic I stealthily and creepily got was of a gothic style house. We tried getting one last Christmas when we again - stealthily and creepily - went Christmas Light Gawking and this particular house failed to show up on film. That's how creepy it is!

But never fear, we located the house when there was still light and I got 3 pics! I will post them as well - probably tomorrow in a separate post bc posting pics and getting them to act how i want them to sometimes turns out to be a royal bitch of a problem.

Tonight also saw me utilizing these beautiful creatures called lungs. I took the dogs for a walk with both parents and me and Madyson ran a few times. RAN. I've already run, but still, 3 months ago i was still out of it from surgery. Running was not the first thing on my mind. I'm pretty sure nothing was on my mind but the pain i was in and how much i wanted food. And it was as Maddy and I were running that I had this thought: here I am, breathing with someone else's lungs. Unlike a liver or a kidney, where you can't feel them as they work, with lungs, you can. You can consciously make the effort to inflate and deflate them. I can inhale as deeply as i want, and hold it, and hold it, and hold it, all on my own will. But these aren't mine realy: i wasn't born with them. They were entrusted to me b/c my donor was awesome and had the compassion to save others lives in the event of their untimely death.

Again, 'thank-you' fails to encompass how this really is for me. You can't thank someone for that. You just can't. I ran tonight people, and I walked 100 stairs and then some. You cannot wrap that in a box and place in under a tree or anything. It is basic human kindness in the most extreme degree. It may seem simple but it was the most beautiful thing I could think of, on one of the most beautiful days of November.

So yes, all in all (despite the fact that i'm sitting on 2 days worth and 6 laxatives with 0 results), it's been a beautiful weekend. I had my bedroom window open all day and my room smells like summer time. I plan on washing my bedding and placing it on the line tomorrow to dry, as the forcast calls for 20*C! I finished my letter to Jenna up in the Yukon and will get around to mailing it tomorrow. Being the good friend that I am, i hunted in the dark of my backyard for a maple leaf to enclose in the letter and stepped in dog shit in the process. This resulted in me needing to wash my foot, which is another summer time fav thing of mine to do. So it's not all bad.

But if tomorrow yeilds 2 days worth of attempting to shit, I will light a tree and sing a song and reflect on the devine act performed by angels! If not, try, try, try again.

(maybe this is my punishment for asking that guy in recovery if he was sure he didn't shit himself. Oh fuck.)

Saturday, November 7, 2009


Welp, as you can tell by the counter at the top of my blog: IT'S OFFICIALLY MY 3 MONTHS POST-TX DATE TODAY! Woo frigging hoo! And how did i celebrate but by going to the St. Jacobs Farmers Market with 3/4 of the girls (the last 1/4 being ensconsed up in the wildnerness and currently unavailable to participate in such adventures).

Things i realized while Farmers Marketing today:
1) Don't eat breakfast before you go, and don't eat breakfast there either. It's quite possible to survive off all the samples you will consume (fresh fresh! right Krystal?)

2) Wear proper runners. I learned the hard way. I don't want to get up off the couch.

3) Bring a camera, as Krystal did. She got plenty of pics. I brought mine but did not participate in any picture taking myself, though I was in several of Krystals. Maybe one day, when she locates her long lost cable cord, those pics will find there merry way onto facebook and saved/stolen onto my computer.


5) Oh, and bring cash and spend lots!

Things I bought:
- 2 bags of Kettle Corn (sooooo good)

- 1 Christmas stair ornament for my sis and her bf

- 1 loaf of veggie cheese bread

And i think that's it.

Katey's mother sent her with a list ("get a roast if possible") and Katey was able to purchase about 99% of the things sent for. Krystal bought a pie and we loaded it all into the trunk of the Cherrybomber. We happened upon a grey/silver Ford Tempo on the way home (apparently i'm the only one who spies these things from miles and miles away) and all in all, it was a fab day! Weather was great and I may take one of the dogs for a walk if my body wants me to get up off the couch. I feel run down and im' sure it's a combination of the past week i've had with my assessment, then both flu shots, and needing to go for my Gamma this coming week. It's pretty normal so i'm not worried. My temp, FEV1 and everything is fine so that's good!

Also, for any one who reads like the bookwhore that I am, have you read the Into the Wilderness series? I'm on the second book and can't get into it. I've forfeited it for the time being and picked up Diana Gabaldon's new book An Echo in the Bone. WEEEEEE! If you've read the second book of Sara Donati's Into the Wilderness (Lake in the Clouds I beleive it's called) let me know if you felt the same way please!

Hope u all have a happy Saturday! Tomorrow I am going to concquer 100 stairs with Krystal!

Thursday, November 5, 2009

On today's menu...

1) 11 hours of sleep

2) meds done immediately upon waking up like a good soldier

3) food consumption - too much

4) 1 chunk of antsyness/ restlessness

5) 1 vaccine of H1N1 accompanied by a side of seasonal flu vaccine

6) grocery shopping for ambitious supper idea

7) 1 strong realization that i don't have any legit reasons to complain today..

8) 1 strong realization that i should take that back b/c i will find something to complain about...

9) 1 long moment spent at the slider watching the dog attempt to eat all the snow off the deck

10) 4 endless moments telling me i should blog about something positive

So here I am. It's the 5th of November and before i begin i want to extend a HAPPY 1 YEAR POST DOUBLE LUNG TX to ALEX!!!!!!!!! I shall post ur blog link!

So yeah i woke up in a slightly better mood today. I say 'slightly better' b/c i'm feeling restless and antsy if i sit - like i should be doing something. I know restlessness is a side effect of the new gastro med i started, and seeing as i have to take it 4 times a day...could i be experiencing it already? Probably. I have the munchies today, and i don't know if this new med is laced with pot or what but it kind of sucks b/c i'm not hungry, i just have nothing to do. I'd go for a walk but the weather is changing ever 2 seconds pretty much. I did however realize we have some severly underused yoga/pilates DVDs in the basement so i may drag those up to my room at some point tonight and do them? We'll see! This weekend is supposed to be fab so i'm looking forward to getting out and walking some trails around here.

So yes, like a good, diligent citizen of society, I got my flu and H1N1 vaccine today. I've never had a vaccine of any kind and today i lost my vaccine virginity. And let me tell you, it's pretty exciting. That, and the fact that on the documentation they gave me that states i got the vaccine, is says 'Pandemic'. I'm part of a pandemic people - i'm officially part of history. That's pretty sweet in my book. After i got the vaccine I sat in a chair b/c u have to wait for 15 minutes. My dad came in shortly after me and got his b/c i called him saying there was no line. As we sat there, i morbidly pointed out in an excited manner that this was 'so 1918...'. He probably thinks i have some mental issue. Well i'm sorry but it had 'cool' written all over it...cots on the floor for ppl who can't handle the shots, nurses giving needles and handing out sheets stating u got it...pretty nifty.

But the bottom line i guess if any one gets excited over 'pandemic' mode is pretty sick in the head. I guess that's me. Oh well. Accept it. i'm making homemade veggie soup tonight for supper, as well as Cajun Caeasar salad! How sexy eh? It's pretty exciting i won't lie, and when i was at the grocery store hauling all my shit around i felt pretty fabulous. I didn't even think that i wasn't out of breath but i did think about it when i hauled my shit into the car and sat. It was easy and there was no struggle. I love it. I guess the antysness/restlessness comes when i have nothing to do but sit on my ass.

Must get off ass. Must.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Some shit...

This entry doesn't come from the happiest point of view....contrary to the post that preceeds it. I mean i'm happy but i'm annoyed and frustrated, blah.

I'll start with the happy news: since Monday i've been having my 3 months assessment! Monday was the busiest day for: bloods, xray, CT, PFTs, clinic. Tues saw the gastric emptying test, where I had the fortune of consuming a fried egg saturated in radioactive goo and 2 peices of toast, with an added toxic topping of transplant medication to the mix. And today - the final day - saw my 3 months bronchoscopy, which I hope in all honesty, yeilds no rejection or infection!

So far things are good, tho there was some confusion over some cyclosporin levels. Also, the thing that i'm pissed off about, is that bloody gastric emptying test has shown yet again complete and utter failure of my stomach.

Let me break it down for you: you come in at 9am and eat ur radioactive egg. You get an xray. You're told to fuck off and come back in an hour for another xray. Then you fuck off for another hour and come back for another xray, to see how your radioactive friend is moving along. If all is well - meaning the egg has made the journey from stomach to intestine safetly- you're free to go and your stomach is awesome. If you're stomach is a complete tool - like mine apparently - you must come back in 2 hours to see if things have moved along.

In my case, they didn't. They merely crawled along. After 1 hour i still had 90% of the stuff in my stomach. After 2 there was 60%, and after 4 i had 10% left. To be fair, the breakfast they gave me was significantly larger than what i usually have, and all i did was sit on my ass for the whole time literally staring at the sky while i thought the stuff was digesting (and i must state that the egg wasn't bad even though they left out the fun part, the yellow goo). I was asked if i felt full all the time. I kind of lied and said no, b/c it depends on what i eat. But basically, they do this test to see if you have reflux b/c that can cause you to asperate into your lungs which is very very bad.

After 4 boring hours i was released and sent to skip on my merry way home. I thought all was fine but allegedly it wasn't. The egg was still festering away in my stupid crippled stomach. I got a call from my tx co-ordinator today saying i had delayed gastric emptying and that I must go on another med to help things move along. I was pissed, though in retrospect I guess I shouldn't be. I won't lie when I confess i was pissed b/c I was worried that starting such medication would yeild terrifying results: fatness. Yup, I said it. But i've realized if things move along faster than just sitting like a dormant volcano in my stomach then it probably won't happen. So we'll see.

Todays bronch was well. No vomitting or hallucinations. I did have to put the bronch to a hault right before as i ran to the bathroom for an emergency pee. I felt bad for holding things up but my doc was happy to see me running. The unfortunate part came afterwards in recovery when I was placed between two men who had just had colonoscopies. I've never been near anyone after they had one but i learned that after one is done, the patient is encouraged to fart as much as possible. They must lay on their sides and force it out - big and strong - before they can go home So there I was, coughing up blood (it always happens) while these 2 men tried to fart as much as humanly possible. At one point, me still being mildy sedated and not being held accountable for my actions or words, the guy next to me let out the grossest, loudest, wettest fart in my direction that i had ever heard, that I spoke up and said to him, " You better check that you didn't shit yourself".

I didn't look at him when I said it, i merely stared wide-eyed at the ceiling in utter disgust, in hopes that any smell didn't waft in my direction. I just wanted to get out of there and not fall victim to fart fumes.

What else? I feel like i need to get shit together, like i'm extremely unorganized. Now that i'm done with pulm. rehab I need to work out more. Granted, this week it's been harder b/c of my 3 months assessment, but i'm not about to let myself melt into a blob of goo. Must join a gym and/or walk more.

I don't think there's anything else for me to bitch about. If there is, you'll hear about it.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Life is Beautiful

To say that I had an absolute fucken blast last night would be a great understatement.

To say that I drank a whole bottle of Inniskillin wine (Krystal drank her own bottle), laughed so hard all night that I woke up in torrential abdominal pain, took 54 pictures of essentially the same thing just with different poses, ate half-nuked leftover mac and cheese at 4:30 in the morning b/c I couldn't sleep, and determined that the aforementioned equalled having a complete fucking blast, would be 1000% accurate and honest. But it still doesn't encapsulate the gratitude and appreciation I have for the simple fact that I got to do all of that in one single night last night. Because in all honesty, I've never been able to have a night like that. Ever. Last night I was able to run around to multiple parties, laugh in multiple places, do multiple juvenile things (though smart, don't worry!), and just act like a 24 year old on Halloween should, was such a blessing to me that I can't describe it. For the first time I had a normal 'university student' night with my friends and nothing got in the way. Nothing.

Today was much the same. I woke up with a slamming headache, was lured out of bed by the tantilizing albeit lying smell of cooking bacon (in fact, no one was cooking it; they defrosted it too long and left the scent to waft up the stairs to wake me up, making me cook and consume it), showered, eventually got dressed, and took one of the dogs for about an hours long walk - something i have never ever done. We walked, ran, went up hill, walked through parks, greeted other mysterious dogs, came home. I am exhausted but it is a good exhausted.
Yesterday saw another trip to the Farmers Market, where I finally acquired some muchly loved and covetted aged cheese. I think it's vegetable havarti which no one seems to like b/c it's allegedly 'too strong', which is fine by me b/c i don't generally like sharing cheese b/c i value it too much. I also bought some pumpkin hummus which turned out to be nothing short of fabulous.
So this is it folks: my life is winding down to be normal. Who woulda thought? I absolutely love it, and none of this would be possible had it not been for my awesome, amazing donor. I thought this as I ran across the street today with my dog and didn't get out of breath. I've never really run w/o being out of breath the instant i try doing it, but alas today, i ran and no out of breathness. Pure madness.
Life is beautiful.
Laughing so hard it hurts...

Group shot...

Some of the best people you will ever meet...(damn you Jenna up in the Yukon come back and get in the picture!!!)

Me and Her Royal Silliness...