Yes, 2 years ago this very weekend, my life changed forever as I was prepped and poked, spliced and diced by a surgical team for 8 hours. Two years or 730 days have elapsed since I gained my two magnificent organs..
As time progresses and my post transplant life becomes the new normal, it sometimes slips the mind exactly how much of a drag diabetes and renal failure were.
As George Michel, the lyrical equivalent of Shakespeare puts it;
"Every day I hear a different story, People tell me that you're no good for me"
He also asked to be "waked before you go go", an excellent premise, and worthy of the Ivor Novello award on its own.
For diabetes is not all fun fun fun. Yes you can get sick notes to excuse you from PE (apparently frowned upon on now, but standard practice in the 1970's. I dont recall ever having done a "cross country" lesson in PE, and having my sick note laminated certainly saved my parents the chore of having to write one week after week....
In an early morning HR meeting a few years ago, I recall slipping in and out of consciousness thanks to a lack of sugar. After a few minutes of babbling (quite normal in HR meetings), my boss leaned across and asked if I needed to take some sugar. I sort of burbled and waved at her, and managed to extract myself from the room and back to my desk, where informed colleagues laced me with sweet orange juice.
These signs of variable sugar levels appeared more regularly: in interviews, in shops, and once whilst at the wheel of my MX5.
These episodes were the final signs of complete renal failure, as the rate of insulin absorption became irregular and were a clear sign that dialysis or a transplant were needed.
This culminated. in the operation two years ago.
And the rest is history
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