An Update on our “Bucket List” Makeover
Many you have asked for updates on Lynn, our “Bucket List Makeover,” performed last xxx. If you are a new subscriber, just passing by, or didn’t have the chance to watch the story, here it is:
I’ve gotten updates from Chaz, her husband. An articulate and elegant writer, his emails give me pause not only to think of Lynn and her bravery in this battle, but the love and commitment that we could all hope for in times of trial. Here’s his update:
“I haven’t sent a message for some time. Isolating the median between superfluous, newsy chatter and the rigorous detail of life on the edge; therein lies boredom. Easier to retreat into the daily routine, the 24/7 symphony of this medical high wire act, and remain quiet.
Without the aid of predjudice or custom, and barely able to find my way across the room, here is the latest on the Minnesota patient. The clinic ‘team’ has attempted to evict us, three times within the last 60 days, to no avail. Twice, life threatening reversals (details to be spared) intervened, like a fresh pothole on a county highway, but we are again on the cusp of returning ‘home’, although neither of us is quite certain where that might be. Recall that on the day Noah built the ark, it wasn’t raining, so we, too, have prepared for any consequence.
Aside from being weak, short of breath, and emaciated by pharmaceuticals, the 115 lb. patient has a cheerful outlook and tells everyone in person or on the phone, ‘I’m just fine’, which has all the depth and substance of a wad of blue pocket lint in your favorite pair of levi’s. Receiving a new set of lungs builds character but does not make one virtuous.
For those of you who express concern for the caregiver, rest easy. Confused is the right word for my state. Too much has happened, too fast, both interior and exterior, that silence is the painless retreat. I’ve been too busy living the strange adventure to organize it mentally for your benefit or mine, hence, the raw mental lava. Forced to take a polygraph, I would pass, for all I know is that I know both less and more than when we left, but remain uncertain as to which is which.
Today, we’ll have a quiet Easter dinner at the transplant house, reveling in the bond of shared tissue. It will be delicious.
And if the weather permits, join with our friend, Joe Johnson, in a bit of flag waving.
A happy Easter to all of you.”
Lynn Spiher, a testament to tenacity