Today is my birthday. It is nearly a month since my transplant. When one gets to a certain age - closer to 50 than 40 - there is a range of feelings with each birthday. Yes, I know it is just a number but it's a number that spells a lot of things. Age and all that accompany it. More particularly, aching knees, poor eyesight and with each day news of someone in a similar age bracket fighting some life threatening illness.
So, in between feeling a bit sorry for myself, I have been very mindful of just how lucky I am in many ways.
Thanks to a donor I have a chance at a much better quality of life. I have three children who drive me bonkers but ultimately just about every bad thing about them I can trace back to myself and a doting, if not infuriatingly forgetful, husband. I am pretty lucky in the whole scheme of things.
So on that note I can say that things are going along reasonably well. I am getting more used to my circumstances. The vision in my "new" eye remains fuzzy but I am hopeful that it will improve.
Yes, there is some discomfort in that eye but it is not unbearable. I am guessing and hoping I am where I should be.
I am still very tired. I think part of this could be that I have not been doing any exercise and have turned into a bit of a couch potato and lack energy.
I was thinking I would like to do some gardening but became a bit wary in case I knocked my eye.
At the weekend the kids went to a pool party and one of the kids hit me full on in the forehead with a high powered water gun. I was wearing sunglasses but the water gushed into my eye. I panicked. John gave me his handkerchief to dry the eye which I so far have been very careful with.
I was in a spin but I think it is probably OK. I feel a bit like an over anxious mother to a newborn.
I have only one chance to get this right. I want to do all I can to make it work.
I am due back to see Dr H in a few days so I will know more then.
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