Of course, I’ve known that for years! But before that, let me recap this last week. (I’m taking over the keyboard while Brenda rests from her harrowing week.)
Before anyone even thinks that I shouldn’t share some of this, I do it with Brenda’s blessing. After dealing with this disease for so many years, she’s come to accept the physical eventualities that come with it – some not so pretty, many painful and yes, some that just bruise the psyche.
<cue the bad dream music> Last Sunday, the 21st of January 2018, was a day that Brenda had dreaded for years. Ascites, the physical accumulation of fluid in the belly, is not a fun symptom of liver failure. When we actually found out just how much fluid had accumulated, it was a shocker, but more on that later. Anyway, there is no road around ascites. If you have liver failure long enough, it is going to happen, even if you obey all the dietary restrictions (this will come as no surprise to ANYone who knows Brenda, she is a stickler!) So, on that fateful Sunday afternoon, we found ourselves at a Motherhood Maternity shop, perusing the shelves for maternity pants.
Brenda has maintained a rather svelte figure, but when her white hair and “4-month pregnancy” belly held in with an extra rubber band around the button of her pants, stepped into the store, the young salesclerk was at a loss, but to her credit, handled it with aplomb. Hey, Brenda even scored some “freebies” that ALL of the expectant mothers receive when they make a purchase! I later told Brenda that the actual shock of purchasing the maternity pants was the deciding blow that sent her to the emergency room later that evening, breathless, fatigued, pale and with eyes the color of candy corn.
Long story short, after removing 23+ lbs. of fluid weight from her belly and transfusing two units of packed red blood cells she was allowed to go home three days later, in possession of a stricter diet and fluid restrictions. What fun!
All of the above is just to bring you up to speed. I’m sure she will cover some of this ground in her next post, as only she can!
The real reason I’m writing this is to say things that Brenda can’t or won’t admit. In short, Brenda is one tough, and I might add, beautiful, cookie. As I write this, almost exactly 18 years has elapsed since Brenda shared the tearful news with me about her disease. You see, we had only known each other approaching 4 weeks. (Insert story of how we met here…believe me, it’s a GREAT story!) But what a joyful and exhilarating 4 weeks it had been. And yes, when you know, you know and we knew that we knew.
I will never forget the tears in her hesitant eyes as she took my hand and told me that she was dying from a liver disease whose only “cure*” was a liver transplant that she was unsure would ever happen. She was not even thinking five years. (*) – cure is such a nice term don’t you think, suggesting forever, “out with the bad, in with the new,” disease gone, kaput. In actuality, once the offending liver is removed, her body, still harboring its autoimmune ill will, will start attacking the new one immediately. But talk about a do over! Turn that liver clock back and pray for 20+ more years of life pampering the new one!
Well, as I said, when you know, you know. And I knew that I wasn’t going anywhere. I wiped my tears (I’m prone to that – ask my kids) and told her that I was certainly NOT going to bypass even 6 months of getting to know her better for fear of her liver giving out on her. So, 18 years later, almost to the day, here we are. Let me tell you, even I (Mr. Pollyanna, as she calls me) underestimated what joy and love and laughter and living and tears and challenges and victories those 18 years would hold! I’m not about to miss the rest.
I wanted my time at the keyboard because I want you to know that Brenda is the bravest person I know, and I’m not even referring to hinky livers. I’ll try not to get all sappy (fat chance!) but as the days and months unfolded, I was awestruck as I learned of all the adversity that Brenda had faced and stared down in her lifetime. I am NOT making light of it at all when I say that it would make a good book. But those stories are solely Brenda’s to share.
Perspective…that’s how I described it to her. Her roller coaster life had provided her with unabridged volumes of experiences, trials and yes, plenty of danger. And yet, she sought help, she learned and she won! She ran through the potholes and came out the other side, with clarity and purpose and victory. Perspective.
When I met Brenda for the very first time, she was seeking truth, THE truth. That’s a big admission on a first date. Back to that bravery thing – she embraced the truth when she found it and that has positioned her in the best place of all, full of love and boundless fellowship, prayers and yes, even more perspective.
Did I mention that my wife is # 1? I thought I did. In my life, she holds that distinction for life. In liver transplant circles, she’s # 1 on Piedmont’s transplant (type O blood) list for at least 24 more hours. Her score may rise or fall but by faith and a literal globe-circling array of people praying for her, this is going to happen. Thank you for reading. Thank you for caring. Brenda has described this fight as a journey and that is exactly what it is. It’s been uncertain at times… just how long would it take to arrive…exactly how bumpy would the road be…will it get worse? How will it end? In all likelihood, the next few turns bring us home. Thanks for riding along.
Stan