Chapter 18 - Gifted Days

By May, clinic visits had become less frequent.

My counts were in a good range for my stage of recovery, and my kidneys were happy again.

That is an official medical diagnosis, at least in my book.

I had gone from approximately thirty pills a day to six or seven.

It felt like clearing a small pharmacy from the kitchen counter.

The Battery Meter

The biggest challenge was not expecting more from my body than it could give.

I was stronger.

The battery still drained quickly.

People could see me standing, smiling, or perhaps mowing the lawn and assume I was back.

They could not see the battery meter falling in the background.

I had to respect the meter before it reached zero and the system shut down.

Returning strength needed to be spent wisely, not immediately.

Twenty-Five Thousand Days

As of May 11, I had lived 24,995 days.

Five days later, I completed 25,000 days of life.

The number carried weight because I was truly living gifted days.

The days did not all feel dramatic.

Most were ordinary.

That was part of the gift.

Treatment had not been fighting only for major milestones. It had been fighting for mornings, meals, conversations, music, walks, naps, and ordinary days no one would photograph.

When the Colour Was Muted

I found myself in a strange space between what had happened and what would come next.

My body was healing.

My emotions felt flat.

It was as though joy and passion had gone on holiday without leaving a forwarding address.

I did not believe I had lost my faith. But some days felt as though someone had turned down the colour saturation on my soul.

The flatness bothered me because it did not match the story I wanted to tell. I wanted to overflow with gratitude, purpose, and joy.

Instead, every day felt muted.

Inside me, I could see the situation unfolding.

Those who interacted with me, Leslie in particular saw apathy, lack of caring about the things I previously enjoyed, and how I made them feel unloved.

It was the most difficult phase of this whole journey.

I asked God to restore colour to my inner world and help Leslie understand that muted emotion was not a lack of love.

Numbness is not faithlessness.

Sometimes the body and brain continue healing long after the dramatic part of the story has quieted.