I’m on the home stretch of making it to a year post transplant. The first year feels like such a big mile stone! So much has happened! I tell people it has been a roller coaster ride, and I’m not kidding. I’m at a stage where I think I’m experiencing post transplant PTSD. Actually, I wonder if the psychological world needs to come up with another term for the emotional fallout from traumatic medical events. For me, at least, it isn’t the same as what I read about in people who have experienced PTSD from combat, assault or other types of trauma. I don’t startle easily. I’m not worried about what might be around a corner. What I am is emotional. I know some of that could be the medications. I can cry at the drop of a hat. Little things bring back memories and the waterworks just starts flowing. This time last year I had the transplant clinic appointment where they told me I should start thinking about coming into the hospital. It was one of those mile stones I had prayed I’d never reach.
Stories from the battle to cure Hermansky-Pudlak Syndrome, and other observations about every day life