Hi Everyone,

Thank you so much for all the messages and texts asking about my surgery—I feel so loved!

Overall, the surgery went well. It took three hours, and my transplanted kidney was removed safely. Apparently, because I had been doing floor exercises to strengthen my core—since I haven’t been able to walk with my calf tear—recovery has been a bit tougher. Strong stomach muscles apparently equal more pain. I have to admit, though, I’m proud of the core strength I’ve built despite not being able to walk for the past 2.5 months.

Today is my first day feeling more human. I think it comes with tapering the painkillers—and finally, after six days, my digestive system had a reckoning with the porcelain gods! I feel less like I’m carrying an inflatable tube around my stomach, though I’ll admit this recovery has been more painful than my kidney transplant.

I’ve had a lot of thoughts lately. I jot them down thinking they’re brilliant, but then I read them back and laugh at how psychedelic and medication-induced they are. I hope they’ll be useful at some point, but for now I’m accepting that my flashes of genius are really just the drugs talking.

In the meantime, I’m letting myself binge episodes of Below Deck, a wildly entertaining show about superyachting where the staff are ridiculously good looking and the guests are either appreciative or completely over-the-top entitled. There’s something nice about being in my forties, watching twenty-somethings fall in love for five minutes and act like it’s forever, while I just think, “it’s hormones.” And since I’m closer in age to the guests than the crew, I realize I don’t want a yacht vacation—I get seasick. What I’m really dreaming about is endless massages and long days at the spa with my girlfriends—no seasickness required.

Alright, I’m signing off to spend more time with the porcelain gods and then sleep for the rest of the day.

Sending you all love,
Danielle