(Good news travels fast in these here parts, and apparently my family doctor walked out of my physical on Monday morning, picked up the telephone, and hollered "Swarupa! Our girl Coni has FINALLY landed herself a real live breathing companion that doesn't wear a little silk smoking jacket or who pees on the ottoman!")
(They both love me...they really do. And if they both didn't take such great care of me and keep my little hampster wheel turning as it does, I would worry about two highly competent physicians kibbutzing about my love life rather than about how we're going to Frankenstein me into getting a few more years.)
(But they do that too, and who am I to put the kabosh on a little fun, right?)
Despite feeling like death on a stick, I am still holding my own at about 9% function. This number is actually less significant than a few others like potassium, phosphorous, weight, and blood pressure, so for now I can continue to limp along.
(And! I can have a dietCoke as a treat, if I like, as long as I take a Tums with it to process the phosphorus in it.)
(Guess what I'm having tonight at the hockey game with my hot dog!)
We did have a good long discusson about dialysis, and Dr. E assures me that it's nothing to be afraid of, and when the time comes for it (maybe in another month or so), I will feel so much better that I will wonder why I ever waited so long.
(Besides...it will give me lots and lots of time to stitch, so I suppose that means that I should start to fish through my cube room studio for suitable projects.)
On the transplant front, the ball is now entirely in my sister's court. I have completed all of my testing and am exactly where I need to be to move forward. I will see the transplant surgeon again on November 30, and if she has completed her testing and has been cleared...it will be all systems go.
(The most important thing to know about this particular mess is that I am no longer able or required to clean it up. As of this morning, Rich has bravely agreed to jump right into the middle of it and bring it to a conclusion one way or another. All I have to do is get back in my lane, let him make all of the phone calls and ask all of the hard questions, and if it is meant to be...it will be.)
So that's the report. I am to keep doing what I'm doing and all will soon be well one way or another. If I can repeat yesterday's shenanigans with my Jersey Boy over and over I think we'll be just fine. I ate well, slept alot, stitched a bit, cooked us a lovely dinner, read a few pages, and spent some time here with you.
A very very happy life indeed.