Here's to the potential for new normals

In case you had not heard... this week I heard from my transplant coordinator that there's about 5 or 6 people in front of me on the list. While you can't assume anything I did do some simple math and MGH does approx. 120 kidney transplants annually so if I assume they do approx. 10 per month then it's not a ridiculous idea to assume that I might actually get the call as early as late June.

On one hand this is great news. On the other hand no one should have told me this because it's infiltrating my every thought. I awake each day with a little too much excitement over the idea that I'm one day closer. I spend the day thinking about how my life will be different, better, more amazing post transplant. I imagine myself drinking a 24 ounce glass of cold chocolate milk, or orange juice, or heck even water and I don't mean just drinking it, I'm talking about glugging it all down in one fell swoop and maybe going back for more. I imagine myself buying and eating an entire musk melon (resembles cantaloupe) maybe even two. I can't wait to just eat a banana.

I dream of hikes, of actually getting this flabby body into some kind of shape resembling healthy. I imagine nights without waking up coughing due to the fluid that's moved into my lungs while I lie in my bed. I dream of going on a vacation and not having to schedule two or three dialysis treatments. I want to know what it feels like to not have dialysis again, to gain back the hours that were mine to do whatever I wanted and not have to worry about that whole dying without it thing.

Then I start to fantasize about the possibilities... in a way its like a second chance, a do over. Maybe it's time to get back to papier-mâché, I've put off that kind of thing for 14 years... I had reasons and excuses but now I kind of want to tell the world to get the F outta my way... I'm doing what I want to do this time and not always "the right thing" or "the expected thing". I used to have a "love me love my way" attitude about life but I sort of gave that up as responsibilities crept in to my world. Now nine years of less than great health has taken over the parts of my life that should have been my down time to do what I want to do. Sure my kids still need me, but not in the ways they did 10 years ago. There's plenty of time for me to be selfish and still be present for the people who need me.

Of course I'm getting ahead of myself... there's still at least a few more weeks of dialysis, possibly several. There's the few weeks of recovery, there's the first six months that apparently tend to be a bit of a rollercoaster ride as they try to sort out the medication regiment you need to be on. They tell me the prednisone will do a number on me.

I'm trying to maintain a calm sense of reality, but throughout the day these thoughts creep in and I just can't help feeling a little antsy about the idea of being done with the version of life I've been living for the past decade and taking the reins of my new normal and making it as extraordinary as I can.

My name is Bil... and I have kidney disease.