Dear Body,
I am writing to you today to apologize in a manner of speaking. I have been rather disrespectful and unappreciative of you in the past. All of my life you have stayed in the fight, and remained with me despite the choices I made. I could have passed away several times: overdosing on blood pressure pills when I was 1 1/2 years old, my first pregnancy when I went straight to eclampsia and HELP syndrome, and when I was too stubborn to go to the doctor when my kidneys shut down and I was TOXIC when I finally got medical attention. I probably deserved to die, because I didn't treat you better as I grew up. I was constantly trying to lose weight, to fit into clothes that were never realistic for my body type. I drank and I smoked, trying to fit in with people that didn't fit in with me. I didn't appreciate the miracle that you are, the gift from God that keeps fighting for survival in each situation that I encounter. But I do now.
You have stood by me and refused to quit. The first day that I did dialysis in Via Christi in Wichita was by far the worst that I ever felt. I had a tube rammed under the skin in my neck and shoved into my aorta, and the medicine made me vomit continuously all the way to the chair. The iron in the blood made me even more nauseous, and I was ice cold the entire time, shivering violently as the blood circulated through the machine. When I did get out of the chair and into the wheelchair I passed out cold. I wept when I reached my hospital room, it was the most horrible day that I could have experienced. It was also the first and the last time that I had seen tears in my husband's eyes. It was the only thing that could make me laugh, because that man never cries. But you didn't desert me, you didn't give up. Even when I had berated and abused you because you didn't fit into skinny jeans, or take responsibility for not taking charge of my health sooner, you fought on.
Together we became better through constant dialysis and surgical procedures. I learned what made you feel better through diet and treatments. And when the transplant institution at Via Christi closed down just days before my final interview to get placed on the transplant waiting list, you trained with me for my first half marathon at the Praire Fire that fall. WE did not give up, WE decided to alter our expectations and do more than survive. WE fought to enjoy life, and all the blessings and people that were in our lives. We didn't make the waiting list just then, but we made it later and shortly after we were blessed with a kidney. And boy, oh boy, did you and that kidney just fit together like PEAS AND CARROTS (as my favorite Forrest Gump would say.)
I want to promise you something, body of mine. I promise to appreciate everything you do for this team...pushing yourself to recover from the surgery, and striving for excellence as we work to rebuild what we had worked so hard to achieve before the surgery. No more will I try to fit into a certain body mold, or insult the shape you are today. So what if I don't fit into a certain size? So what if my left arm looks like a large caterpillar lives under the skin near a vivid scar that runs from my elbow to armpit? So what if I have two different cesarean scars on my abdomen now from different surgeries??? We are a BEAST! We are a survivor, and we will be proud and thankful for every breath that we use in each day. Thank you for sticking with me after all, I promise to make sure you don't regret it. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment