Mick McKellar Update--Day +65
Our world is light gray today. Some early morning rain soon dried up, and the sun remains blocked by uniform cloud cover. I cannot provide a first hand report on outside conditions, because we don't have any business at the clinic or hospital today.
Tomorrow will be another story, with blood tests at 7:00 AM and consultations all afternoon. Of course, my daily regimen continues and we remain on rash watch. I have so far managed to climb the stairs from first floor to third floor twice today, and hope to do it again after supper. Otherwise, today has been a healing day.
A healing day
So many have written wonderful messages that have gone long unanswered, that I have been trying to write back. I've had some success today, and I consider this also part of my healing regimen. Oddly, I was surprised at how much energy even writing messages takes. Unlike this journal, answering mail means directly addressing questions and concerns with specific details, some of which are difficult to find in my erratic attic. If you've written and I have not written back, please forgive and bear with me.
I am also writing my journal entry a bit earlier than usual today.
Sensations
God's gift today has been a quiet and peaceful day, without major upset or medical emergency. I am feeling a bit more fatigued today, but have been finding the rest helpful. With GVHD, we are always waiting for the other shoe to fall. Under the circumstances I suppose one can be forgiven for constantly peeking behind mirrors and in those dusty, shadowy corners -- just looking for something wrong.
Constantly turning inward and focusing on self separates me from everyone else, and yet it is part of my job as an outpatient to search for any sensation that seems out of place or different. Marian has to watch for changes and be ready to call for medical aid immediately. So when nothing changes, I get suspicious and start looking for changes. I suppose this makes sense on some level.
I see the same vague inward looking expression on so many faces here at the transplant house. It disappears as soon as eye contact is made, but for that fraction of a second, I know the feeling of drifting about inside my own body while functioning, unfocused at the surface level. Sometimes snapping back to full focused conversation and participation can be difficult and a bit slow, like drifting back from a day dream.
Visiting friends in the hospital and engaging them in conversations does not bother them. On the occasion when we have been able to drop by other transplant house residents while doing an inpatient stay, they seem to open up and really enjoy the visit.
We are at day +65 of my 100 days. I cannot tell you all how much we want to come home and haunt the Keweenaw for at least part of whatever summer we shall be granted this year. We love your communications, letters, and e-mails. We thank you for your prayers and good thoughts.
I gotta go take a pill.
God bless you all,
Mick