11 Years and Onward We Go

 Hello friends, today marks 11 years since I received a heart transplant at JHH. I didn't say this last year, but it's nice to be in double digits. At the same time, one wonders how much time is left. A morbid thought, perhaps, but it lives in the recesses of my mind. I hardly remember being 16 and here I am 11 years later at 27 years old taking each day as it comes. 

Like last year, I have no grand celebration planned. I don't have the energy to party plan as it were and I am relatively dull. I will likely drop by at SU to chat up some professors like I previously planned a couple of weeks ago, maybe grab a drink from Starbucks, and otherwise spend the day at home reading or sleeping. 

Let's recap this past year, shall we? (if I can even remember what happened) 

This year (2022) feels like it's gone by so fast and I find it hard to believe because I think a part of me is still stuck in 2020. Stuck in March 2020, still in pharmacy school, on the Friday afternoon before spring break not realizing it would be, for many of us, the last time we would see each other in person for a long while or altogether. How odd that I can close my eyes and be back in Richmond in any season, in any number of memories. 

Time is a social construct.

Year after year, I find that I have less to say regarding my transplant. Though I am always open to questions and having a conversation about my transplant experience, it is rare that anyone asks. Stability, though I am grateful and it is good, is not interesting. But life is infinitely better that way. When I hear about what other recipients have recovered from (or not recovered from), I find it a bit disconcerting to say the least. 

I've gotten off topic again, haven't I? What to say about this past year? I hardly remember what happened at the end of 2021 if I'm being honest. Does anyone else remember last year or has it all collectively been a blur for the past (nearly) 2.5 years? 

Let's see, I bought a Nintendo Switch earlier this year to play Animal Crossing with my friends. I have since fallen out of my phase of logging in everyday, but I suspect it will come back around. 

Bushra and I met up in Chicago for a weekend back in May. It was a short trip, but a good time for sure. We did some of the typical touristy sightseeing, enjoyed a sunset cruise, lounged around by the water, and ate deep dish pizza for the first time. If it weren't for the brutal winters, I could see myself living in Chicago. It felt comfortable in a way that Richmond did/does. 

I finally (officially) took on a staffing position in August. I think the patient base is getting used to seeing me, which is good. And I'm getting used to them too. It wasn't as scary of a transition as I expected it to be, but I also heavily rely upon on my colleagues and staff for help. 

I very recently got my first Evusheld injections. Evusheld is a combination monoclonal antibody used for certain immunocompromised patients as pre-exposure prophylaxis for Covid-19 under an EUA per the FDA. Funny that I work in pharmacy and took this long to get my first set of injections, especially since some folks are now receiving their second set of injections. Better late than never. 

Two of my dear friends have gotten married this year and I was, surprisingly, able to attend both weddings. I wore the same pair of heels to both and my feet hurt like crazy at both by the end. But both were such joyous occasions. I love weddings and seeing my friends happy. I almost forgot to mention this, but I reconnected with a friend I loved so dearly during college after several years and I'm really grateful and proud of her and I for being able to do that. 

Joy always seems to be counterbalanced by sorrow though. For as much joy as some of my friends have experienced this year, there are those who have experienced an equal or greater amount of grief. The kind of grief that is theirs to process, that may or may not be able to be held by those close to them who are not directly impacted. 

I have been reading on and off throughout the year. I set a goal to read 25 books by the year's end, but so far I've only managed to read 9 books. I am in the process of reading 2 books at the moment though and hope to read several more before this year is over. I think part of the reason why I've read less this year is, yes, because of work and also doom scrolling on social media, but also because I am focused on quality rather than quantity. 

These annual posts seem to become more scattered and jumbled thoughts rather than purposeful reflection with each passing year. Is there any reflection left to be had or shared? 

I wonder periodically if I ever fully processed receiving a transplant. Eleven years later and I still don't have an answer. It is one of the most traumatic experiences I've had in my life or at least that's what I've come to believe because I've had no other way to categorize the experience. Was it traumatic? Is it still? I'm not sure. I think it is. 

Alright, brain, it's time to veer off that track while we're ahead of ourselves. To make things more interesting for my transplant anniversary next year, I think I will make a list of 12 things I want to do or accomplish before then. (Y'all are welcome to send ideas to help me brainstorm my list.) 

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Thank you to her (my donor), my family, my friends, and the teams of medical professionals who continue to play an integral role in my continued existence. Thank you most of all to God for whom without it would not be possible for me to be here today. 

All my gratitude to the ones who have loved and cared for me, who continue to love and anchor me, and who will love me in the future. 

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Visit donatelife.net to register to become an organ, eye, and tissue donor.

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"Maybe I don't need the whole world to remember me

I just want to know I live forever in your memory"

-1990 by La Bouquet