Well here I am on the morning of my two year anniversary. yup, two years to the day from the day I spent 16 hours in surgery to recieve a kidney that just minutes before belonged to my father. I should be ellated to have made it this far. I should be pleased as punch for the very fact that I am still alive, that I can breath, and pee. and yet I am somewhat dissatisfied. although for the life of me I couldn't tell you why. I guess perhaps it's a little to do with "always being treated and never being cured." don't get me wrong. I am glad to be alive (most of the time) and I do enjoy my life. As far as I can figure it's damn near the best a life can get. but in a sad distant longing sort of way I wish there could be a cure and not just an eternal treatment. I would like to even just for a short time have all the energy that a 23 year old is supozed to have, to have the drive and ambition and clearness of thought that comes with not always living in a constant mind fog created by creatine that isn't high enough to set off alarms but isn't low enough to feel particularily well either. when in conversation about my illness with someone the other day, They told me, but it's all over now. as if it were a particularily nasty flu that hit me for a week or so before going on it's merry way. I know it was meant to be all comforting a happy ending. everyone wants a happy ending and I guess this is about as close as it gets to a happy ending. But the happy ending here isn't all fairy tale like cinderella, it's more happy ending like "the seventh gate" (the death gate cycle) where it's the best possible outcome although still frightening in what you know must lie ahead.
Friday, August 01, 2003