Jump Start

The holidays came and went with no health surprises.

We even went to New York to visit family and see some sights for a few days.

I was lucky to have my dad there, he did ALL of the driving and I did ALL of the sleeping.

Tiredness is my biggest concern of late. It's been three months since my transplant and I'm still exhausted all the time.  I do most regular things, but I just don't have the energy or stamina to make it through the day without a nap (or two). When my kids go to their dad's house, I sleep for almost two full days. And I still have deep-set, tired, sunken eyes each day. I need to catch my breath after walking up a flight of stairs or running to answer the phone.

At my clinic appointment, my lab results are the best they've ever been.  My only issue is that my once ultra-high blood pressure is now ultra-low. No big deal; Dr Wali prescribes a salt-retaining medicine to keep my blood pressure up.

I ask about my overall exhaustion, expecting to hear something like, "All in due time, have patience" or "Everyone recovers differently, take it easy."

Not today. Dr Wali tells me I need to "get off the couch," that I will get stuck if I don't push myself. I'm confused and taken aback. I feel like I'm pushing myself every day. I'm quiet for a while, chewing on his surprising opinion.

He continues and even decides to prescribe me an anti-depressant. Whoa! Color me alarmed. I'm concerned about side effects and taking unnecessary medicine. He tells me my body is physically depressed, needs an energy "jump start" and he believes this might do the trick. I take 15 daily medications already; am I really ready to add another that "might" work?

I leave, still at odds with his conclusion. I drive home, debating with myself over the situation. At the end of my one-and-a-half-hour drive, I am physically, mentally and emotionally spent.

On paper, I am healthy and vibrant. I certainly do not feel this way. And my doctor thinks the difference is disparaging enough to prescribe an anti-depressant. 

I really want to spend the evening resting and researching, but I get a call from a coworker who needs me to cover his evening classes. I immediately "get up of the couch"(not literally, I don't have time to sit down), grab my son and drive a couple of  hours to teach a couple of karate classes.

Just my luck, for the first class, we're working on fitness! I'm a pretty interactive instructor, and I demonstrate and do everything right alongside the kids. I pause between drills to tell parents the benefits of what we're working on. I feel really tired, but I'm aware I can speak without being short of breath.

The second class is much of the same and goes without a hitch. At the end, a couple of moms come by to thank me for the wonderful class. I am, again, surprised. As they talk, I see myself briefly from their perspective; they are impressed and have no idea about my recent history and no clue how my body feels right now. I smile, simultaneously gracious and proud, and wish everyone a good night.   

My muscles(where my muscles used to be) are aching. The walk back to the car feels much longer than the initial walk in. On the way, I relish in the burn of raising my now-very-heavy feet with each step. I refuse my son's pleas to be picked up and make him climb himself into his car seat. I sink into my own seat, drained and limp and proud and excited. My son demands, "Eat! Eat!"

He's right....Eating is a good idea.
 

And so is pushing myself physically, mentally and emotionally.  

I decide right then:

Tonight's experience, not an anti-depressant, 

is the "jump start" I need.