Post-transplant day 17, rehab #5.
I'd had a fairly lame start to my recovery, I feel, especially with the
low-energy, low-ability 1st day back at rehab on Saturday. Pain has
stalked me in varying degrees from large to immense, with only a few
respites. In these 17 days, I have been made to appreciate what a
near-death experience transplant really is, even when it goes well.
But mid-week everything
changed for the better. Perhaps it is the normal course of recovery,
perhaps it was the spirit of Christmas, perhaps it was the vicarious
excitement of the surprise visit Denise Horgan got from her siblings, or perhaps it was the relief from enormous worry when Piper Beatty
finally got her call on Christmas morning, but I slept better Wednesday
and Thursday nights than I have since before transplant. Not well,
mind you, but finally a couple hours of deep sleep.
more energy to visit friends in ICU and stepdown. I continue to worry
over them and encourage them to push themselves. I've needed a little
less napping. And in rehab, I'm getting a little bit more flexible and
faster each time.
But today something REALLY clicked. My
pain was down far enough to simply power through it. And in the middle
of floor class, I started getting pings from my phone in rapid sequence:
texts from a woman whom I'd left a mere 90 minutes earlier still
moderately sedated and vented! Now I was getting my phone blown up by
Piper! And...she was bragging about some test or other. Worries gone.
The rest of rehab went swimmingly and for the
first time since transplant was able to turn in better than a lap a
minute during the walk. And I get to move to heavier weights on Monday.
And on my SpiroPD, just now, I upped my FEV1 to 63%!
am reminded that we are all in this together, quite literally. When my
friends do well, I do well. And, I believe, vice versa.