Here I am yesterday, on my fourth-to-last dialysis treatment!
Now things start counting down in a more real way. Yesterday was my last Tuesday treatment; tomorrow will be my last Thursday, followed by my last Saturday, and then (assuming all goes well) my last dialysis altogether on Monday.
And now when people ask when my surgery is, I can just say “Tuesday”. Not “a week from” or “this coming”, just “Tuesday”.
The preop appointments are done; the lab work is done. Everything is looking good. The next step is just to show up—on Tuesday.
So am I processing it more than I was before?
I mean, ... 🤷♀️
In fact, I’m starting to wonder if it will ever feel truly real, even after the surgery, after recovery, after my life has settled into a new routine with a healthy third kidney. On top of everything else, I just don’t think I can fully wrap my head around the kindness I’ve been shown. Sarah, my incredible donor, has stuck with the tedious process and still seems genuinely excited to be doing this. All told, about a dozen other people also stepped forward and at least began the screening process. (The standards are incredibly strict, so most people get ruled out at some point in the process, if they don’t otherwise decide that donating isn’t right for them after all.)
But I think one sign that it’s starting to feel more concrete is that I’m finally starting to feel nervous about the procedure and about the lifestyle changes. I have to keep reminding myself that this is a routine procedure, at least for the surgeons, doctors, and nurses who are involved. Even if it’s far from routine for me.