Transplant-aversary

     On Wednesday, August 20, 2014, I got "the call."  And on Thursday, August 20, 2015, my wife, son, and my mom and dad will celebrate the year that has been possible because of the successful surgery that began that night and continued long into the next morning.  Our plan is to go to Mackinac Island, largely because that is a place my wife and I would go every year.  We understandably put that tradition aside for the past two years.  My mom and dad will join us for the first time; neither of them have been to the island in over 30 years.  We do all this in lieu of celebrating something meaningful in the life of my donor and donor family.  

The Workaday World

     Just like yesterday's entry, I'd like to start this one with housekeeping... but of a different sort.  If you are someone reading this in a country other than the U.S., I would love it if you could post a comment to tell me how you learned of this blog. And, for all of you, if you aren't into commenting, I added a section below each post where you can just click on one of several boxes, which gives me feedback on what you thought of that post.  I did this about a week ago, but had forgotten to mention it.  Thanks for any and all feedback you have given me or will give in the future.

Kick Off Your Friday Shoes

     Last Friday, I attended a wedding.  While I had gone to my cousin's nuptials in late October, at the time, I was very immuno-suppresed, and still working my way toward 75% lung function.  I was able to dance, but I was not quite the prime physical specimen that I have since become.  At both weddings, however, beyond just being able to attend and dance, dance, dance, I was able to "show off" my lungs to people who had supported me throughout the transplant and recovery process.  In October, a vast majority of my Mom's side of the family was seeing me for the first time since the surgery.  I got so many hugs, answered so many questions, and used so much hand sanitizer.  At the ceremony and reception, I was the masked man, attending my first crowded indoor activity, always conscious of what I touched, where I put my hands, and who I was next to (little kid, please aim your nose elsewhere).  Once the food was in everyone's bellies, I was I was particularly excited to hit the dance floor with my wife, especially in light of a wedding experience we had last summer, when my lung function and health were approaching their nadir.

The Best Laid Plans...

     My sense of smell has always been a little "jacked up."  Sometimes I can smell dinner cooking from across the house, other times it's on my plate and barely registers.  My wife will claim that our dog's blanket has a horrible stench, and I don't even notice-- but when she lights a scented candle, I can't handle it; its aroma is too powerful and I feel like it's suffocating me.  If this weren't an actual medical "thing," one would think I was just playing a long, unfunny prank.  But it has always been this way.  Throughout my entire childhood, the most common reason I needed antibiotics was sinusitis due to CF.  My pediatrician probably wrote that more times than he cares to remember.  My pulmonologist noticed that I had nose polyps around 7th grade and she sent me to an Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist to determine what, exactly, was going on up there.  After a few visits to this doctor to monitor the polyps, he told me that I could elect to have them removed.  The benefits would outweigh the risks, he assured me:  my olfactory sense would likely be improved, and I would have fewer sinus infections.  The only downsides were that I might end up with two black eyes from the surgery, and there was a chance that they wouldn't be able to get all of the polyps.  Those were the physical implications.  The emotional one was that I had never been in the hospital before, so the whole process was a bit scary to me.