Lifesavers for Latasha

It’s been a week since I woke up, packed up our home-away-from-home, played luggage jenga to fit everything into the car, and broke Tasha out of the hospital. And to be clear, the car won that round.

The drive home was surreal and full of excitement and fear. Getting home felt comfortable yet foreign. Having Jack, Gunner, and Binx home with us was joyful but stressful. We both had a lot of competing emotions colliding together, coupled with exhaustion from going and going.

But it was the turning of the page into our outpatient transplant journey chapter, which was exciting. This next chapter is genuinely one of mental strength. We have both had awful days this last week, from being overwhelmed, overstimulated, and overstressed.

There are many reasons, really, but I suppose it can all be summed up as expectation management and frustration with a lot of things, especially what the future could look like and how food may become a significant hurdle to overcome.

Some people think of food as an arbitrary means to an end for sustaining life and energy. Still, most people associate food with memories of holidays, family, traveling, seasons, likes and dislikes, significant milestones in life or careers, celebrations, and passions like baking and cooking. Food can bring so much joy, especially for Tasha, when it is one of her love languages and ways of showing appreciation for those she cares about and wants to thank.

Culturally and familiarly, food is huge in Korea, and the joy it brings is immense. And it doesn’t help that Korean food is absolutely amazing. So, Tasha’s current stomach issues are mentally and emotionally taxing.

On the front of transplant healing, everything is going great, and it’s absolutely incredible to say that.

We both feel slightly upset at ourselves because we didn’t know how hard this would be. The naïvety of that is epic because we are both intelligent and thorough researchers and thought we had it figured out. Well, I’m here to say we most definitely did not.

We have several outpatient follow-up appointments scheduled for the next 45 days, which will keep us busy and hopefully resolve the stomach issues once and for all.

To my original point, it has been a rough week of highs and lows for many reasons. I won’t get into Tasha’s feelings because when she’s ready, she will share them. She has been journaling a lot to capture them for future unpacking.

It has been hard getting back to work these past few weeks. It has been overwhelming, and I struggled to feel connected and gain momentum. Juggling everything to support Tasha and try to be my best has been a lot. I can feel how this journey has changed my priorities, how I feel about previous positions on things, and how my empathy has grown, but my tolerance for ineptitude has lessened.

Those who know me know I love being outdoors, doing yard work, washing the car, walking the dogs, and simply feeling the sun and wind on my skin. I missed the summer here in Ohio, but it’s been therapeutic to be outside daily doing things that help me connect to myself and our life here.

I share all this because it’s essential to capture that even though we are home, we still haven’t left Cleveland Clinic. It’s never far from our minds, and the reminders are everywhere. Time heals and softens all. We know that, but patience hasn’t been a virtue we have been good at lately. We both feel the urge to go and make up for lost time. We feel the road calling us. We feel the world tugging at our adventurous side. We feel those memories within our grasp, and that is exhilarating and frustrating at the same time.

Caution and systematic planning are the name of the game for everything, from getting groceries to lab work to just taking a walk outside. Life has changed as we know it, but it’s wondrous as we relearn how to live in our environment.

As we take each day on, it has been nice to reconnect with those in our circle of life. The conversations and reflections have been therapeutic. I won’t lie; it isn’t all roses and butterflies here at TM Warner’s headquarters, but we are strong, resilient, and determined to get through it all.

Until next time, thank you for your continued support.