I have loved roller coasters since I was born. Literally. There are stories of me crying from my stroller when I couldn't go on the bigger rides at various theme parks when I was barely old enough to talk. The day that I was tall enough to go on Space Mountain for the first time was one of the highlights of my life. And now I am on the ultimate emotional roller coaster: Dad waiting on the liver transplant list.
I have to say, like any other stressful situation, you can never truly be prepared. I have been through some tough times with my parents, yet the past month has been something I have never experienced before. Some days I'm feeling hopeful (even excited!), other days completely terrified, and others completely exhausted. I explained in my last post a little about how the national transplant list works, but this process is painful. Period.
The past week has been about as extreme of a roller coaster I have ever been on.
Early last week we learned that Dad was near the top of the list at IU. We were excited, nervous, and scared. I started thinking through all of the ways I need to start preparing to go out to Indianapolis for a longer period of time. Dad must have been going through even more emotions knowing that he would be undergoing such an enormous surgery so soon. We were thinking somewhere from a few days to a couple of weeks and we would be past this very [lonely and] tense waiting period.
On Wednesday, Dad took himself to the hospital emergency room for the first time since out in Indiana. For Dad to do that, it must have been bad. He seemed to bounce-back from that episode, though.
By Friday evening, we learned that the top of the list right now at IU means something very different than what we assumed. There is still a possibility that Dad can be waiting months (MONTHS!), even though he's very near the top of the list. Hope turned to despair: how can Dad continue to be miserable by himself in Indiana even though there are no plans to transplant him any time soon? If he goes home, can he lose his place on the list? How is this possible after everything else that we have been told?
I don't have answers to all of this, but I'm trying to stay hopeful. I honestly can't understand the logic of how Dad has the most common blood type, age group, sex, and body type combination that I am aware of yet he could still wait months. The Mayo Clinic prep list for liver transplant candidates cannot begin to prepare you for this emotional roller coaster, though--that much I know.
I think eHow's How To Ride a Roller Coaster is much closer to the truth (replace instances of "rollercoasters" with "liver transplant lists"):
My mazel.
I have to say, like any other stressful situation, you can never truly be prepared. I have been through some tough times with my parents, yet the past month has been something I have never experienced before. Some days I'm feeling hopeful (even excited!), other days completely terrified, and others completely exhausted. I explained in my last post a little about how the national transplant list works, but this process is painful. Period.
The past week has been about as extreme of a roller coaster I have ever been on.
Early last week we learned that Dad was near the top of the list at IU. We were excited, nervous, and scared. I started thinking through all of the ways I need to start preparing to go out to Indianapolis for a longer period of time. Dad must have been going through even more emotions knowing that he would be undergoing such an enormous surgery so soon. We were thinking somewhere from a few days to a couple of weeks and we would be past this very [lonely and] tense waiting period.
On Wednesday, Dad took himself to the hospital emergency room for the first time since out in Indiana. For Dad to do that, it must have been bad. He seemed to bounce-back from that episode, though.
By Friday evening, we learned that the top of the list right now at IU means something very different than what we assumed. There is still a possibility that Dad can be waiting months (MONTHS!), even though he's very near the top of the list. Hope turned to despair: how can Dad continue to be miserable by himself in Indiana even though there are no plans to transplant him any time soon? If he goes home, can he lose his place on the list? How is this possible after everything else that we have been told?
I don't have answers to all of this, but I'm trying to stay hopeful. I honestly can't understand the logic of how Dad has the most common blood type, age group, sex, and body type combination that I am aware of yet he could still wait months. The Mayo Clinic prep list for liver transplant candidates cannot begin to prepare you for this emotional roller coaster, though--that much I know.
I think eHow's How To Ride a Roller Coaster is much closer to the truth (replace instances of "rollercoasters" with "liver transplant lists"):
1. Understand that rollercoasters are constructed with different performance goals in mind. Some coasters feature steep drops that challenge your fear of heights, while others feature lightning-fast movements to challenge your fear of speed. Assess the name of each roller coaster for a clue about what to expect. For instance, it is logical to conclude that a rollercoaster named after a swift animal will be faster than the average rollercoaster.
2. Assess physical health concerns. Ensure that you meet established height and weight standards before jumping in line. Realize that there will be a final compliance check before being allowed to board the rollercoaster. Certain conditions including pregnancy, hypertension and skeletal injuries can make rollercoaster rides unsafe. Read and follow the safety guidelines associated with each rollercoaster. Some coasters may have additional restrictions.
3. Choose your ride carefully. Merely meeting the physical requirements for riding a rollercoaster won't prepare you for the ride itself. Riding a rollercoaster that frightens you too much can make it difficult for you to ever try another rollercoaster. Starting on a small rollercoaster isn't shameful, and is highly encouraged. Avoid succumbing to outside pressure to try a ride that is too intimidating for you
4. Grab a friend and get in line. Store small items in a locker to prevent losing them on the ride. Enjoy the wait for the rollercoaster ride by talking with other guests and calming your nerves. Gain reassurance by watching the rollercoaster safely depart and then return riders to the bay. Asking riders "How was the ride?" can give you added encouragement to take the plunge.
5. Strap into your seat and take a deep breath. Follow the safety instructions and wait to be cleared by the ride attendants. Gather courage as the final countdown ends and the ride begins. Wave to the waiting riders as you finally get to experience the thrill of speeding down a roller coaster track. Continue to follow safety instructions during the ride by keeping your hands inside the car and not getting out of your seat."Strap into your seat and take a deep breath".
My mazel.
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