mourn

I read something the other day and it has had me thinking for a few days. It was something that has been on the edges of my mind for a while, but seeing it in somebody elses words, bought a little more clarity. She said, after transplant, life is not normal, is never will be. In a way, after transplant, you need to mourn the loss of the person you were before transplant.

Transplant, is such a huge thing to go through, that it would be near impossible not to be changed by it. Physically, emotional everything. Your routines change, your ideas and feelings change.

Transplant, to me and the time around it involved a lot of changes. From being a confident independant 16 year old with no worries and brain, to suddenly a life around rules, pills, routine, hospitals and a heck of a lot of work to get back into a postion of doing simple things like going the loo. A lot of things I blocked out, but bits keep coming back and everytime they do, I am still amazed at what it took and how the body can come through it. It took weeks to build the strength for my body to be able to breathe on its own, weaning off the ventolator was one hard task, its something you have to fight with every second. You cant take a break, you can stop when you get tired, you have to keep going. Moving on to tasks such as being able to sit up. My body was flat for so long, that it hurt my head a lot to be upright, my heart struggled to cope. Learning to walk, having to repeat in my head, foot up, move it forwards, foot down. Other foot up, move it forwards, foot down. It was hard, and it was many weeks till I was able to walk with out much concentration.

I also had a lot mentally to come to terms with. Being nearly killed day before I ended up in hospital, being held prisoner, rape, police examinations and police stations. At one point, I fell asleep under the desk in the police station. I had been awake 2 days solid, but couldnt bring myself to sit in the room alone, so I sat under the desk. To the eventaul stabbing and everything that went with it.

For a long time, I pushed the old me out. I didnt want to remember the person I was as it made the loss seem even more. But I did get angry, angry at myself, for not being able to return to the person I was. The person that could talk to anyone, go anywhere without a care. The person with heaps of energy who was always socializing, who loved to be independent and enjoyed getting up every day to go to work.

I realized a long time ago, that I am not that person anymore and I dont think I ever will be again. I liked that person more than the person I am now, but perhaps its time to move on. To mourn the loss of 16 year old me. To accept my new patterns and know that, perhaps they are not that bad.

I am a different person now. But that dosnt have to be a bad thing, it just means that I need to change my perspective and goals. Mourn the person I was and learn to once again love the person I am.