An unreasonable lack of fear

Something occurred to me last night: I'm taking this whole transplant thing rather lightly. It almost never hits me how very serious my condition is; I almost never acknowledge that organ transplantation is about as serious as it gets, medically.

I can't; I think I'd be too scared to move. The thing is, I feel fine. Now that there are no tubes sticking out of my neck I look perfectly normal. I can go out, I can walk around the city and carry my own groceries home, I can get on a train and go to New York for a couple of days with no ill effects provided that I mind my treatment and eat my protein.

There's a comparative amount of freedom, and transplant seems like a long way off. In the mean time I should prep for going back to work; I should do a lot of things.

It just seems wrong to me that I look on this life-disrupting surgery, which involves taking parts from a dead person and putting them into my body and then making them work as just another thing that's going to happen to me.

I am not bloodless, really, but I don't think I could function if I were scared; which begs the question "how well are you functioning now, Koog?"

Not badly, except that my sleep cycle is righteously screwed. With no good reason to get up early, I sleep until 1 or 2 in the afternoon on a good day. I need to start giving myself tasks, I guess. Actually, tomorrow and Thursday I have to get up at a normal time for appointments.

I'm trying. Really.

before - after