Today the results came back. Worst case scenario: I am experiencing severe kidney rejection. But here’s the thing: my doctors are optimistic. They caught this early.
These moments—like my first shower and meal—were not the triumphant milestones I expected. Instead, they highlighted the unpredictability of my new normal and how my experience of anticipatory cognition has shifted.
I don’t think people talk enough about the fleeting nature of immense gratitude and the sadness that comes with its fading. It creeps up in a walk or a moment, where gratitude and the recognition that it’s leaving come together. We also don’t talk about the slow, gradual mourning that follows as the mundane day-to-day life returns.
Before, when I looked at my body on dialysis, I didn’t have much hope. Hiking, Pilates, strength training—things I once loved—felt like they belonged to someone else’s life, not mine. But now, as I begin to experience this third iteration of my body, I can see it differently.
Barney’s been sick and being away from him has been tough. I have to remind myself: this is what I fought for. To be here. To have more time with him, even if it means waiting a little longer now.
Danielle has been released from Inova Hospital and is on her way home!
I finally got to meet my donor. At first, he wanted to remain anonymous, but then he changed his mind.
I’ve got great news to share—I have a kidney transplant scheduled for February 18th!
I have eight people actively testing to see if they could be possible kidney donors for me.
I’ve been on the struggle bus this weekend with fatigue.