Lifesavers for Latasha

Whelp… The title says it all.

There is not a lot going on here other than waiting, waiting, and more waiting. From a transplant standpoint, Latasha is doing very well, and the doctors see no sign of rejection or side effects. That’s a win we are pleased about.

Did I mention we’re waiting a lot?

Our current hold-up is the blood clots and hematoma on her lung. After the last go-around that wound Tasha back in the OR for surgery number four, the medical consortium is taking things very slow. And when I say slow, I mean slow. They want all teams and disciplines on the same page before they do anything, and if you’ve ever dealt with any multidisciplinary team, that is a huge task.

I mean, doctors play super nice with other doctors, right? I obviously am joking, but each discipline looks at things from its own point of view, and they’re busy. Getting them all in the same room at the same time on the same subject is a challenge—a challenge that equals frustration for us because we don’t get a lot of answers or clarity.

So, we wait and try to stay upbeat. It is now a game of mental chess; fortitude wins the race.

We are focusing on physical and occupational therapy by walking as much as her body will tolerate. Tasha still has a lot of fluid overload from her kidney failure, but that is slowly coming off. That has caused an immense amount of pain and mobility issues, so as it comes off, things improve.

Tasha has been able to walk increments of 400-foot loops around the unit a few times a day, which has boosted her circulatory and muscular systems. It is impressive to see her walk and talk because she couldn’t do that before.

I washed her hair today, combed it out well, and redid it, hoping to preserve her beautiful, long hair a bit longer.

One of the awesome nursing techs acquired a remote for me so I could hook my iPad up to the TV for Netflix and Apple TV use. That’ll be a big help in passing the time.

We anticipate being in the recovery unit for another ten days or more. This is primarily due to the complexity of Tasha’s medications and the need for a continued blood thinner to prevent and dissolve her blood clots.

So we wait and serve our time in purgatory. In my reframing of this, I am using this as a small price toward long-term survival and happiness post-transplant, a life of achieving goals and dreams.

So, until next time, friends, I am going to try to focus on some more funny moments moving forward.