My husband got his new liver on Wednesday the 25th February.  Somebody, somewhere, died that morning and that person’s family bravely offered the organs for transplant. This is a huge thing and I am moved almost beyond words that a family could make that decision in those appalling moments of loss and grief.

The surgery went well at first but then J suffered a catastrophic bleed out and the operation couldn’t be finished. He was kept sedated for two more days until he could safely undergo the second half of the surgery. He then stayed in an induced coma for six more days. There were two days where things looked grim. The rest of the days in ICU weren’t great either but he finally woke up and is now recovering on a ward and waiting to come home. It is not an understatement when I say that this has been the hardest two weeks of my life. I can’t imagine how he feels. I have watched J constantly and worried about how we will go on if we lose him. How will our daughter accept the loss of her amazing, wonderful, talented dad? The dad who has been the better parent, the one she bonded with most and who she adores? I hope these are questions that I don’t need to think about for a while now.

I am exhausted. Selfishly, I am very frightened of how things will be when I have to care for him constantly over the next months. I feel tired already and I want to lie down and sleep all the time. I can’t plan anything; I can’t manage more than one thing each day because it all feels too much. I think that will lift as I get used to having him home and can see him getting better. I’ve been listening to music a lot and having a little dance when I feel shitty. It’ll be okay I think. Today when I looked in the mirror, an older, sad-faced woman looked back. But she winked.


About pippa

40-something, yogi, gardener, reader and writer. Not great at any of those things but more than happy to be average. I'm anxious, depressed, chaotic, boring, delighted, excited and often foolish. It's all good. And cake.
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