Fill in the blank. What kind of Christmas or Holidays are you dreaming of? What kind is actually happening? For some the answer is exactly what you’re dreaming of. For others, it’s not at all what you’re dreaming of. I have been dreaming of a Christmas where Anna comes home to Colorado from North Carolina. I’m dreaming of smooth sailing, few challenges and a time of joyous reunion. I’m not so sure that’s going to happen. Anna is back in the hospital again. She has RSV and an area of fluid in her chest cavity that is infected. Surgery helped remove some of the fluid, and chest tubes will hopefully draw out the rest. Antibiotics and an antiviral are on board to battle the infection and RSV. This hospitalization is a setback…or perhaps it will help Anna really move forward. That fluid has been an issue since she got her transplant. Now that it is finally draining, maybe she’ll be able to fully heal. We don’t really know…we know what’s happening now which is she’s in the hospital and getting the care she needs.
Sometimes our dreams are exactly what we get, and sometimes they aren’t. Sometimes it’s up to us to make our dreams happen and sometimes there isn’t anything we can do. Being aware of the type of situation you are in and how you feel in the midst of it is critical to your emotional and physical health. Awareness and acknowledgement help you decide what you can do. Maybe there isn’t anything you can actually do to change your situation but you can always enlist self care and connection with others in the midst of it. Don’t know how to do that? One action you can take is to purchase my WORKBOOK or take my recently released VIDEO COURSE.
NOTE: The link for the video course will take you to a site called Teachable where I am hosting my courses. Currently I have two options available: A free mini course on Awareness and the full course. Try out the free Awareness course with no obligation from you…who doesn’t want something for free?!
The wee hours of October 8 marked the beginning of Anna’s eight hour surgery to replace her first set of gently used lungs with the precious lungs of another family’s lost loved one. For Anna, it was exciting and terrifying all mixed together. She is still in the ICU healing and getting better in different ways every day. It’s a bit of a roller coaster trying to balance the medications they are giving her for pain, keeping fluid off the lungs while also keeping her blood pressure stable. The bottom line is, she’s doing well. Anna told me last night that this transplant is way better than the last one. 🙂
My mental health tidbit for this post is, it’s so important to let our feelings have a healthy outlet. This is an emotionally and physically exhausting adventure for all concerned. The most challenging job is Anna’s. While on the ventilator she had to calm herself down so she wouldn’t be constantly fighting the breathing tube. She has hallucinations. She knows it. So she talks herself down from whatever the hallucinations might be telling her or simply reminds herself, “Yeah, this isn’t real. Random people are not hanging out in the corner of my room singing to me.” 😊
A few nights ago I noticed myself getting really snippy with my husband and he totally did not deserve it! The next morning I took time for myself doing yoga, spending sweet time with God, and soaking in a bit of peace and sun outside. I felt the rise of tears but they disappeared. I started texting a friend and the tears started to roll down my cheeks. Yay! I needed this. I cried and cried. My friend called me and I cried with her for a bit. It felt so good just to let all the built up emotions out. I had spent the last six days being strong, holding it together, staying positive. That’s an important part of this process: the ability to contain when necessary but also the ability to let the emotions out in a safe space. I felt teary most of the morning. It was hard to shut down the faucet but eventually it ran dry. By the afternoon I was feeling grounded and clear again. I don’t feel so exhausted either. A good cry goes a long way!
Waiting is becoming a very common theme in my posts. I wonder what you are waiting for? I think we are all waiting for something. Sometimes we’re waiting for big things, sometimes we’re waiting for small things. It can be hard to be patient in the waiting. We have options. We can be irritated, grouchy, miserable, intolerant, and so many other icky feeling emotions. Sometimes it feels good to go to the icky feeling place. Sometimes it doesn’t. We can also choose to find peace and contentment in waiting. I think of it as a release of control that I don’t have anyway. It’s an action that can be hard to do, to let go, but when I do I feel so much lighter and relaxed. I can take deeper breaths. I sleep better. I am much less irritable. It’s more enjoyable to be around me, too!
Anna is getting lots of practice waiting as she is still waiting for her gently used set of lungs. She must wait for just the right set, not any lungs will do. Her body is already on to this “lungs from another body” deal. So the new lungs will have to be very different from her current set. This will help trick her body into leaving the new lungs alone and not seeing them as a threat. Our immune systems are so awesome at fighting bad intruders but they don’t know the difference between bacteria that’s bad and life-saving lungs that came from another person’s body. So Anna waits. Her wait is worse than mine for so many reasons. I spent three weeks with her and then returned home. I’ll go back in a few weeks. But she must stay in North Carolina waiting every day for a call where she will hear, “Anna, we’ve got lungs for you!”
I’m back in Durham, NC with my daughter, Anna. She has been listed for a double lung transplant. That means she is in the national registry of patients waiting for donor lungs. The first time she was listed 6 years ago, we thought the call would literally be in minutes after being listed. The wait was 19 days. When thinking in seconds, that seemed like an excruciatingly long time. This time around, we know not to hold our breath. We have been prepared by the Drs that this wait will likely be longer. Anna’s body has figured out some details about her current lungs that make it more likely to spot the second set more quickly if they have similar antibodies to the first set. So we have buckled in and are ready for the wait.
I love knowing, being aware of what is going on or likely to happen. So much of Anna’s journey has been filled with the opposite and I have to work super hard to just be in the moment. Honestly, I don’t really know what’s going to happen with her second transplant journey but I like to fool myself into thinking I know something. I do know the area, literally, and can drive with more ease as we go to appointments, classes and pre-transplant rehab. The classes help educate the patients and caregivers so we know what’s going on and what to do about all things transplant. For the most part they are refreshers since this isn’t my first rodeo. But there’s a lot of new information and classes they didn’t have 6 years ago. I am thankful to learn and relearn.
I feel more patient this time around. I like that feeling. On the flip side I also feel more dread. I don’t really know why but I do. Transplant has all kinds of nasty worse case possibilities from loss of fingers to death. I feel the weight of that more this time. It’s hard to hold my daughter loosely; remembering she is not mine and I do not have control over how her life goes. I was reminded of this in our Caregivers’ Support Group. It felt good to let myself connect with my fears and my sadness. Sometimes I can get wrapped up in tasks that I forget about the fragility of this journey.