We are now just over eight weeks post transplant. That time has just flown by in such a whirlwind. We’re over the initial, really crucial first six weeks, and Hugo is doing so well (touch wood, fingers crossed etc. As always.) We’re not yet in a position to relax the rules though; following those is what has got him this far. It’s been over two weeks since Hugo’s last hospital admission, which is just incredible. I can’t remember the last time we’ve been this long in our own environment! Life in general continues to get better, more ‘normal’ (urgh), but that’s not to say we haven’t had our struggles.
The boys had their scheduled liver reviews at the start of the week (I don’t count this as a hospital admission). Hugo had the usual – bloods, ultrasound and examination. The ultrasound was vastly improved; the amount of fluid in the abdomen around the cut surface of the liver is now tiny, and the blood flows are even better than before. There were no concerns from the doctor, and we’ve still (seven days on) not had his blood results. I’m taking no news as good news on this one; something I hope doesn’t prove to be naivety on my part. We also had Hugo’s weigh in, and the little man has done amazingly well. He’s now just shy of 9kg, and is on the 43rd centile for his age. For a liver kid, that’s pretty awesome. We saw the dietician, and she was full of praise; she said that the work that we put into weaning Hugo before his transplant has really paid off, as he’s eating really, really well. It was a massive relief for both of us.
Ross’s review was straightforward. He had his blood tests and a chat with the surgeon, and was sent on his way. He’ll need one more appointment and an ultrasound within the next few weeks, but then it’s pretty much a case of “see you in a year”. His liver will be pretty much back to full size now. Looking back, it really feels like transplant day could have been yesterday, not two months ago, and the fact that his liver has regenerated already is mind blowing. Ross has done amazingly with his recovery. It’s not been easy; he started doing a bit too much too soon, so he got a bit of a telling off at hospital and was told to take a step back to get a bit more R&R in. I think he’s (understandably) got a bit of cabin fever from being at home so much; he’s not been at work, and been physically restricted by his recovery so not been able to get back to his social life quite yet. But he’s nearly there now. He’s been far more patient than I could have been!
At the moment I’m finding life quite surreal. I’ve ended up seeing the last few months from different perspectives, which has been a bit eye opening. I spent one lunchtime while Hugo was napping scrolling back through my photos, enjoying all the happy memories we’ve created since being home… And then I hit the pre-transplant photos. They really shocked me. That probably sounds weird – I was there the whole time, so I knew how ill Hugo was, what he looked like. But that’s the thing. I was there the WHOLE time. I witnessed the progressive deterioration and saw the change gradually, over a matter of days, weeks and months. Unlike others (including Ross) who weren’t there 24/7, and would see a big change in his colour or belly size when they came up to London, I didn’t experience that. I never really had that shock while he was poorly. So when I was scrolling back and saw just how massively distended his stomach was, and how yellow he was – particularly his eyes – I was in shock. I could finally understand why people would sometimes be visibly affected by seeing him. I’m glad that I didn’t see him that way when he was that poorly; I don’t think I’d have coped at all well if I had. It makes me even prouder of how far he has come.
Then, on Thursday, we caught up with a BBC documentary called Transplant Tales. It really hit me hard, actually. I didn’t expect it to; I mean, we’ve lived it after all. But seeing it from the outside in was very strange – the wait, the uncertainty, the fear, the nerves of being taken into surgery. It all resonated very deeply. They even had a cancelled living donation transplant due to illness! I’ve done a fair bit of campaigning, of raising awareness, of the organ donor register since we were thrown into this – something that has been really well received through the blog, with friends, family and strangers all signing up (thank you, everyone!) – and this programme just highlighted yet again how important it is. In the last year the amount of people on the waiting list was higher than ever, but the amount of suitable organs available had fallen. People are dying on the waiting list. It just doesn’t add up. I get that people will have their reasons for not being on it, but I’ve also heard people say that they don’t think their organs would be usable. My response to that is – let the NHS decide! Sign up, and give them the option. You never know what you have that might save someone’s life.
Anyway, it’s been a bit tough. I think I’ve had a bit of an adrenaline crash – the massive high of being home has slowly petered down to just being in normal life, and as amazingly wonderful that is, during the high I wasn’t really conscious of the massive adjustment period I was in. Adjusting to being back home, living with Ross again, getting used to Hugo’s new routines, being both back in control again but now also having to share the control and responsibilities with Ross – all of them have taken their toll a bit.
I’m also on a mission to try and lose the weight I gained in hospital, and have found weaning myself off the diet I had up there has been harder than I thought; in theory, I want to go back to healthy, home cooked food, but in reality all I want is chips, pizzas and burgers. The carb withdrawal hasn’t been great for my mood, and I probably (definitely) haven’t been very nice to live with, but nine days in now and I think I’ve passed that period of grumpy hunger. I’ve also started exercising at a place called Boost (run by a friend) with my sister. It’s bloody hard work (especially since it’s been about 18 months since I last bothered to get off the sofa for anything other than a snack), but so far it’s also been really enjoyable. I’m getting a kick out of knowing that I’m doing something positive to help myself. None of that takes away from the fact that diets pretty much suck though, and I do spend a fair amount of time each day (and night) dreaming about pizza.
I guess it’s just life taking it’s course again. For pretty much this whole year, I didn’t have my own life; I had only one focus and that was getting Hugo a new liver. Now that’s happened, and we’ve had a really good stretch of him being stable and well, life has cropped back up again. It’s unsettled me a bit.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not unhappy. Yes, it has at times been harder than I thought. I’ve been stressed and not the best company. But I’m LOVING being home. We’ve had some blooming wonderful days together, and a few firsts for Hugo. He had his first go on a slide on a family day out in Canterbury (he LOVED it!), he rolled over properly, he nearly said his first word this morning (“dadda”. There goes my determination that his first word would be “mumma”. Or “liver”), he went in his big boy car seat, and he met his (now four month old) cousin for the first time (he couldn’t keep his eyes off him!) We’ve spent lovely, long, lazy days at home, and had meandering family days out; just enjoying being together with no restrictions. I’ve caught up with friends over a few beers (and been gifted one or two hungover lie-ins), and we’ve spent some lovely days in the sunshine with sisters, babies, grandparents. Hugo continues to giggle and gurgle, and smiles his way through his day. It just takes one look at him to remember that actually, everything will be ok.