Vermithor, show me who I am

(HOTD S2 Ep.7 SPOILER WARNING)

Blogging today

One thing I really like about how my transplant doctors are setting me up for success is that they have linked me up with a mentor.  Another woman about my age, actually a bit younger, who also lives in my area also underwent a lung/heart transplant.  I spoke to her a couple days after I got home from the hospital last month.  She was very nice and so helpful.  She put a lot of perspective about the transplant.  She told me that it’s a blessing and that we are stronger than we think.  That if there are no underlying issues, I should be fine when I come out. (She made clear it’s a lot of work and can be hard, but ultimately I’ll persevere.)

Always finding that time for loved ones

When she spoke, this all resonated true for me.  I feel like most of my clouds of doubt come from my own insecurities and what others project onto me.  I know people mean well with their looks of concern and worries and I love their support, but honestly the worrying and amplification of fear is not helping me.  People say they feel bad.  This is rightly so, but also imo a bit misplaced.  Anyone who has suffered something behind the scenes can attest that when people once know what you’ve been going through, there is always that look or words of shame and helplessness from those offering sympathy.  They feel bad for it.  I feel we all know this is because we largely live a life of ignorance of others’ sufferings.  We ourselves can barely stand our own sufferings, how can we stand someone else’s?  We are comfortable complaining about a late flight, a slow pedestrian, a cracked windshield, protester’s making us take an alternate route.  Not saying our daily worries are invalid.  They are and sometimes it IS too much to hold space for others.  But like what my mentor has told me, we are stronger than we appear.  When we can, with genuine curiosity and an open heart, we can afford to learn more about other people’s stories, their joys and sufferings.  It’s not a thing to pity.  It’s a thing to revere, marvel, respect and be grateful for.  I think we would all do a little better to remember that.

Lamb is sometimes life

Another thing my mentor has told me that has resonated with me as of late, when I get the heart/lung transplant, I will be changed.  Not just physically, but mentally as well. (All of a sudden all my organs, my heart, lungs, brain, liver, kidneys, fallopian tubes, whathaveyou, will all of a sudden get the proper amount of oxygen, not my rationed and depleted oxygen my body is desperately trying to deliver.) My brain will change.  And with that, my motivations will change, what I want out of life.  This is crazy to me.  I’ve always been a person who I would say firmly knows who she is.  I know who I am, I know what I want, I know where I’m going.  But probably for the last year or so, I’ve put down this notion and have been listening inside more.  I’ve been thinking about who I thought I was and wondered if it’s because of my condition that I want this.  When I was young, a teen and younger, I knew I loved dancing, singing, being in the limelight, competing in sports, and being active.  But day by day, year by year, I had to learn to put these wants down.  I physically could not keep my cardio up to walk for 5 minutes without permanently doing damage to my heart/lungs let alone do something so active like what I wanted to do.  I had to develop a voice that told me, no, not that.  This isn’t for you.  Let’s do something different.

This was delicious

Thinking about life after transplant has really messed with my core identity.  I’m a gamer, I’m a teacher, I’m a mathematician, I’m a strategist.  I’m . . . I don’t know.  There’s always that question.  If you didn’t have your condition, who would you be?  If things were different, if you were in the perfect environment for yourself with no hindrances, with no chains, skies the limit . . . who would you be?  I wonder if I’m worthy enough to answer such a question for myself.  And to have a shot at that question is so scary for me.  But I will answer that question.  I must.

One day I'll go to Santorini

Lol, I feel like that one Targaryen from last night’s episode of House of the Dragon, Hugh Hammer who claimed and tamed Vermithor.  He felt his back to the wall and traveled to do the impossible.  Bring a dragon to heel and become a dragon rider.  He also faced the question, who is he?  Who will he make himself to be?  Does he have the courage to take his life by the reins?  Do I?  I do, and when the time comes, I’ll also be yelling into the face of a dragon, “Come on!”

Lol, I love my imagination.  But it do feel like that.  I’m just going to look the anesthesiologist in the eye and be like, “Let’s go, bitch.”

Vibes on vibes all day

These are my thoughts of late.  If anyone is wondering why I’m not streaming as much, this is mostly why.  Not only am I preserving energy, but I’m also going through this weird existential crisis.

Biweekly outing accomplished

But hey, I’m doing my meds, going to my very fun appointments . . . (not).  I’m spending time with my mother and loved ones.  I’m feeling mostly good.  But I can see transplant in the near future.  The doctors keep asking me if I’m ready.  I keep saying yes.  I don’t know when it’s starting, but it will soon.  One of these days, the doctors will tell me they are putting me on the list and once that happens, it’s basically falling to the finish line.  I know I won’t be waiting long as the condition of my heart is extremely serious.  It will be a blink before I’m facing my own dragon.  A dragon I hope I can tame and maybe . . . perhaps ride.