Sure enough, the boss said, 'you're going nowhere'. Musical beds was played, a bed was found, and Joc was back in the ward, saying hi to everyone and admiring the frightful before-and-after photos of livers on the wall of a fellow-transplantee. Slightly to my surprise, J shows no interest whatsoever in her old liver (I was curious to see if it was indeed green). 'Time to move forward', she says, munching the last slice of chocolate cake.
Nothing shows up on the tests, but it doesn't seem to be more rejection. In fact the LFT numbers are mightily improved. Big sighs of relief all around. Evening arrives and with it dinner. We lift the lid and our eyes meet. You must understand we have been out in the real world for three days. We put down the lid, and manage to walk three hundred metres down the street to an Italian restaurant and enjoy a nice meal. Joc even walks back up the hill :)
I go home and have to get a machete out of the garage to get in the door. A friend in Brazil has sent a heap of flowers which have been left on the doormat. It seems strange already to sleep alone.
Friday morning saw more tests, results were even better :) J was allowed home again in the evening with enough dope to last until Monday. We tucked into bed and watched a funny show on TV for the first time in weeks.
Saturday and I am woken at 5 a.m by the sound of munching. Normality returns, and Joc is starting in on improving that 49 kilogram number. It is now 9.11 am and a second breakfast has vanished. There is talk of morning tea. Dare I say things are looking good again?
Love, JH.