Things went well today – my random knee ache has gone, and J has confirmed that it wouldn’t be related to the treatment anyway.
I’m also feeling quite alert and chirpy, which is impressive, given that I only had three hours sleep (one of those nights where you’re always either too hot or too cold).
My only issue is that despite going to the toilet fairly regularly, I felt ‘full’ this morning. Even with J transplanting the minimum amount of poo, I was still pretty uncomfortable, so she had me lie on my right side for a further 15 minutes after I’d completed my massaging to give the poo more time to move away from ‘the door’.
Speaking of the massage, I was much less grumpy today, now that I have a book to read. It actually felt quite luxurious, reading a book whilst reclining, at the same time everyone else was starting their working day!
Anyways, the extra 15 min was helpful, but I still felt like I needed to ‘go’. Fortunately, as a veteran freeway commuter, I’m good at holding on, and managed to do so all the way home (1.5 hours).
In fact, driving was such a good distraction, that I made a further 50 min round trip to Yarramalong, a beautiful lil town in the middle of nowhere. I love it out there; so much space and natural beauty that you are kinda forced to think of the ‘bigger picture’ instead of the typical petty daily concerns.
Ryan and I were actually considering buying a house there, but it was slightly over our budget (hmm…nothing that couldn’t be fixed by saving $680 per month on fricking stomach expenses, but anyway!)
By the time I eventually arrived home, the need to poo had receded, so driving might be a good tip for any fellow transplantees – assuming, of course, that you are at the ‘need to go’ stage, not the ‘going, going, gone’ kinda urgency stage.
Anally retentive thoughts: “The New Me!!”
Sometimes reality TV can be entertaining for all the wrong reasons, but I lurve it anyways! During the first Australian series of The Biggest Loser, the contestants underwent a ‘treetop climbing’ challenge, which was hell for Adro, who was scared of heights.
Adro ended up clinging to this treetop ledge, refusing to move, as his trainer Bob stood below, calling up something like “Adro, leave the old you behind – this is the new you! Say it with me; it’s the new you!” And Adro replied “It’s the new me!”
Bob was like “No, say it like you mean it, it’s the new you!” Adro shouted “It’s the new me!!”
They then went into this kind of trance of “It’s the new you!”/”It’s the new me!” for ages, and it was just fricking hilarious. (Although, um…maybe you needed to be there.)
Anyways, Ryan and I thought it was a crack-up, and every time one of us gets so much as a haircut, we’re proclaiming “It’s the new me!!”
The point of this lil story, is that if the poo transplants work, it really will be the new me.
I’ve been sick for 8.5 yrs, so any significant improvement is likely to have flow on effects; I’ll have to start getting to know myself all over again.
For example, from ages 18-27, I’ve maintained roughly the same weight (within a three kilo range, anyway).
Is my natural healthy weight at 35 yrs old the same as it was when I was 27? Generally I think people start to gain a bit of extra padding in their 30s. Who knows?!
And what about my skin? It’s always been dodgy, but underneath the acne scarring and stuff, should my base complexion actually be healthier looking? I look fairly drawn for someone of my age – is that the illness, or am I just aging badly?
Then there’s my personality. If my health improves, will I lose the mood swings, irritability and impatience altogether, or have they been around so long they’re like a habit I’ll need to work on kicking?
Will I be noticeably smarter, or will my brain just not have to work as hard, to get the same result?
Without a doubt, though, the biggest question is, what will I eat? About 18 months into my illness, I suffered a head injury that severed my olfactory nerve, meaning that I can’t smell anything anymore, and the vast majority of my sense of taste has gone, too.
About six months post-injury, my sense of texture increased (KB calls it my ‘Wolverine power’), so that I’m much more aware of the different food textures in my mouth.
Given that my diet is so restricted, the textures I’ve experienced to date are pretty limited – dry rice toast, anyone?! But I’m guessing my food choices will change significantly – bring on the creamy dairy products!
Whilst its fairly easy to predict what I will like, it’s not so easy to guess what I won’t like. I used to love mushrooms, for example, but when I decided to have a ‘diet free’ day a while back, I noticed that fried mushrooms have a texture like I imagine sautéed slugs would. Bleurgh!
Anyway, I’m probably jumping ahead of myself here, speculating on a whole new world that may not even eventuate.
Back to crossing fingers and toes for me!