From Michelle!

Well, here I am at 11:15pm. I’m well enough again to have my day night reversal. I took a hot bath and spent 20 minutes next to my snoring husband before heading downstairs to attempt to write.


I have not read the blog in many days. I have wanted to write to you. But my fingers would not coordinate against the keys. I wanted to weep into your fingers and thank you for reading, for caring, for praying, for donating, for your words, your gise, your true intent, your sweetness to me, your care of my husband and your tenderness towards my son.


I don’t have any tales of triumph or heroism. In fact, I have needed to lean on my solids to be reminded that the pain will ease, my stomach will let me eat, I will walk with my son, be able to function again. Each fall is coming faster than the last and I lose hope that I can be a mother to my baby, a wife to my husband and a friend, employee, all the titles I hold so dear. I hate to be unable to get out of bed. I toss myself around in it and claw at the walls.


My son has bonded with the nanny now. They have their own beat, their own dance. I am happy but it hurts. He doesn’t cry for me anymore when I am home. He lets her bathe him, feed him and care for him in every way that I do. I told him mommy is sick again. He offered me a "bamp-aid". He got me an ace bandage and wrapped it around me. My heart aches. I have to let it go. I can’t hold onto the ideal in my head. When I relax I see that he is in a house that is constantly full of love. Whether it’s the nanny, my dear friend from California, my big brother in from Kelowna, my step-dad in from Fiji or my faithful, steady mama from California and of course, me in whatever shape and daddy who can do no wrong in his eyes. They got up early this morning and watched Elmo before hauling out the Rock Band gear and jamming. I grinned in my half sleep this morning. His story will not be typical. Mine isn’t either. I pray that my love is soaked into him. That he always feels it and knows it even when I cannot be there to walk, play, paint, sing and dance with him. I am proud of his strength. Every day I hear his joy.


I have had many talks with the transplant clinic and my specialist over the last few days. It seems I have “hit the next level” of liver failure. In other words, I can expect to basically always feel quite unwell and often unable to function. Of course, I will be pedal to the medal even at this level. I will not lie down and wait for this happen to me. They are talking about me at their weekly meeting. I am moving up the list on priority. There are 3 of us at the top each sicker then the next on any given day. When the next liver comes up it will go to whoever is sickest on that day. Transplants are way down this year for some reason.


My live liver donor has made many pleas that they fast track her assessment. She doesn’t want to run out of time. She completes her testing in early April. It looks like, if all goes well and there is no cadaver liver by then we may be side by side on the operating table sometime in May. This is by no means certain. She still has many tests to go through. She called me breathless with the news. She heard it first. I asked her to tell me if she’s questioning her decision in any way. She said she was excited. She wants to save my life. She will be cut in the shape of a Mercedes emblem covering almost her entire torso. She doesn’t care. She is absolutely accepting every aspect of the surgery and aftermath. All she needs is to make sure her animals are fed while she is unable to care for them. My grandfather has agreed to help with the costs of supporting my donor and friend while she recovers. Thank you grandpa. Thank you blessed friend. I pray that I will get the liver of a soul who has already lost their life so I don’t have to scar you.


I’ve asked my doctors and the clinic, what can I do to prolong my life, avoid further progression of the process? They said, “don’t start playing football or go bungee jumping. Nothing else I can do”. Check. Just in case you were going to invite me- I can’t make it. But, ask me again with my shiny new liver. I’ll be there with bells on and a bottle of wine! : )


Much love and good night friends,

Michelle