Two years ago tonight (by the time you read this, yesterday) was one of the worst nights sleep I have ever gotten. In the week after I had been out of the ICU and back on the floor and on the transplant list, things kept getting harder. We kept things upbeat, but both Peter and I were really scared. I was physically feeling a lot worse and leaving the hospital was not an option anymore until I got a new heart. Due to covid and all the unknowns, the visitor restrictions kept getting more strict. My dad and Lupe had went back to Chicago since only one person was allowed a day, and it was becoming clear that I couldn't let anyone come back after transplant because of covid.
The worst part was that I knew they were putting a total visitor ban in place the next day. Peter had been my rock through all of this, even if it was just him coming and doing work in my hospital room, it helped me to feel like myself. I had been trying to figure out how I would deal with with them telling me they found a heart and be in the hospital alone without him. Luckily (in some ways), that evening they told me that they found a heart and the surgery would happen the next day.
Guys, I lost it. I was both hopeful but also terrified. Waking up from the dry run was one of the most devastating moments of my life, and I knew that I could not do that alone. We started asking how we could make sure that Peter could stay until he at least knew that it was not a dry run. I couldn't sleep. I was so worked up I gave myself a fever, which was problematic as they wouldn't do the transplant if I had a fever. Peter had to get in the bed and curl up with me for me to calm down enough, crying myself to sleep in his arms.
The nurses saw what was happening and decided they would break protocol by letting him leave my things in the room on the floor, so he would have to go back there. The plan was that, if needed, he could go back to that room if there was a dry run and they were going to find a way for me to see him when I woke up.
We got up really early after pretty much no sleep, but at least were still together. Peter stayed with me as we were waiting for them to get me to take me to the OR, and it was eerily quiet, with almost no staff, as all elective surgeries and most non-emergency surgeries had been canceled. We quietly talked, the held hands, we tried not to cry too much. It was such a different place from where I was 2 weeks prior before the dry run. At that point I was hopeful and excited and could not wait to get in there. Given everything that had happened in the previous two weeks, I was a mess. I was hopeful, but also remember just pryaing over and over that it would not be a dry run again. I also kept trying not to think about being alone when I woke up, and knowing that either way, if I got the new heart or had to wait longer, I was going to be on my own in the hospital for a long period of time. That it would be the first time in my entire 37 years that I would ever not have anyone with me in the hospital for more than a day. We didn't even post anything on social media until we were sure it was happening because we were worried we would jinx it, and knew that neither of us had the emotional energy to deal with it if that happened.
I'm glad I can look back and see that it did work out, but that night I didn't know what was going to happen and I can't even describe what that was like. The juxtaposition to this year is stark. Tonight, we went to our intro to agility class with Bosun, and I was running around with him outside. Still wearing a mask to be extra careful, but being able to run without getting winded.
I'm not sure why things are hitting me harder this year. Maybe I'm just further out from everything, so I can actually process things more. I decided a few weeks ago that I was going to take off my 2nd heartiversary. Peter got the ok to take off too, and tomorrow we are going to go on an adventure. I'm not sure exactly what it will be, but we know we are going to do things I couldn't two years ago, like take a big hike, and we are going to explore somewhere in NC we haven't yet.
They say that you can't really appreciate the good unless you have the bad to compare it to. While some of the time I wish the bad had not had to happen, it definitely makes the good now even sweeter. I'm excited to see what the next year brings. My 2 year check-up in on April 5th, which just happens to be the 2 year anniversary (I think, or off by 1 day) of when I was discharged and got to go home from the hospital.
I will probably keep posting about those two weeks after and give you all an update once I have my 2 year appointment. And then, after that, I will most likely move the focus to fulling step 7, which is to live a long and happy life.
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