Freedom at last as of Sunday around 1pm. Three weeks was a
long time in my mind to be in captivity even with my history and experience
abroad and even SERE school.
Yesterday morning I told Alex, upon learning that we were
clear to go, that I would walk across the street and get us our morning
coffee. For the past two weeks I haven’t’
been allowed to leave the 11th floor due to my levels. For even me, I was hesitant as I walked to
the doors leading to the outside. I was
a little worried about all the shit I would be exposed to. Shut up and go pussy is what I told myselfJ
Well we got home yesterday evening after a myriad of errands
were run and attempted to live the normal life.
For me it will be a huge shift from previous ways of
living. I know and understand the levels
of care I need to employ in order to safe guard my body from the smallest
effects of nature. This is a tough
disposition for an individual who has always been calculated, but flies by the
seat of his pants. I will adjust hopefullyJ
The past two days have been nauseatingly boring, but I’ve
grown accustom to life as a transplant patient, maybe slightlyJ I visited the gym today for the first time
since my in hospital workout which was minimal, due to my concern over
infecting my tri-fusion line. It was
good, slow, week, but effective.
I truly felt like I had been run over on the way home, but I was mentally ecstatic
that I had went. Back in late 2005 and
early 2006 my atrophy was appalling.
When I first entered the gym lifting 95 pounds on incline was difficult
when 6 months earlier I was repping away 225.
I made my plan and got back within 5 months of my old status.
Today was weak, but no where near as bad as back then. Although when finished Alex told me the RN in
my oncologist office had advised against this activity because my platelet
levels could and probably were under normal.
The mental benefit to me far outweighed any consequences of this
activity. I feel great right nowJ
So we are on the path to recovery and hopefully reaping the
benefits of the once discussed 50% cure rate.
I’m an optimist, but I’m also a pragmatist. I will continue to life each day to the
fullest, but know that my odds are pretty bad.
They were bad 8 years ago as wellJ
Bottom line I have to live in a lot of ways like a newborn
child with my compromised immune system.
I’m sure the OCD people around me will ensure I’m taken care. I don’t welcome the challenge, but its’ a
battle that has to be waged, so I’m in.
The coming weeks and months will be tough, enlightening,
fun, eye opening, daunting, as well as perplexing. The updates will continue as will the once in
while times when I step on my soap boxJ
Andy
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