The more observant among you may have noticed that I haven’t exactly been on the ball with the ole blog-posting lately, and this is because it’s turning out to be a very long December indeed. Why is it, I wonder, that so many people choose the week before Christmas to embark upon complex new projects, which mostly revolve around sending me emails and asking me to, you know, do stuff? Why can they not just let me wind down gently, and sit around the house eating the chocolate from my advent calender and drinking the wine Terry bought for that party we’re going to on Saturday? WHY? And is is STILL not Christmas yet? Seriously? Because, I don’t know about you, but I am DONE with this whole “not yet being Christmas” thing. This time next week I’ll be passed out on the sofa, having eaten more food than I normally eat in a week and IT CANNOT COME FAST ENOUGH, is all I can say.
Yeah. I had no idea I was going to write all of that. What I meant to do was post more pictures because, well, it’s easier than writing actual words. Shut up. Anyway, here they are, the pictures I meant to post on Saturday, December 15th, 2007 – or “T-Day” as it’s known in our house – Transplant Day.
December 15th, 2003: This is the exact spot at the Grand Canyon where Terry and I got engaged.
December 15th, 2005 – Just a few of the pills Terry had to take weekly after his transplant – and I really mean “a few” – there were lots more back at the start. This picture wasn’t actually taken on T-Day itself, because, funnily enough, I didn’t have my camera with me that day. Terry has often asked me why this was, and my answer has always been: “Are you on crack, Terry?” Actually, the reason for the lack of photographic evidence of T-Day is explained by my total phobia of hospitals, illness and operations, and, of course, the fact that it was major surgery. And was SCARY. Just not really the kind of thing you feel like photographing, y’know?
T-Day 2007 passed far less eventfully than its predecessors, anyway. I spent it lolling around in bed, for the most part, enjoying a rare few hours when I didn’t have to work, and Terry spent it playing short tennis, which I guess is a good sign of how far we’ve come. (Not the me-lying-in-bed-until-noon bit, obviously. Because that’s just exactly the same as ever it was).
Anyway: happy belated T-Day Terry, John and the kidney you share. If you could pretend that you read this on the actual anniversary of the transplant, that would be great…