Wind Song Journal

The doctors came by this morning with the latest prediction that I will need to spend six more weeks in the hospital before they take the gall bladder out. This is much more time than I expected. I might as well get comfortable here. Friday, I had the pleasure of many visitors. Carrie came and showed me a video of her son’s play and taught me a card game. We talked about the boys, and I gave Yuri a climbing goal chart for his birthday. Then Stephanie came, which was special since she lives in Seattle and I haven’t seen her since the climb-a-thon time! She stayed several hours, and we enjoyed the homemade Japanese food Isa had brought the day before. Ana, who had a transplant almost five years ago, stopped in to say hello during Stephanie’s visit, and lastly, Mark came by in the late afternoon. I was happy I had enough energy to visit with people. I am feeling a little better. Usually, I have only a couple visitors per day (including Dave) so it was a pleasant surprise on Friday. Thursday, Isa visited for a couple hours and brought delicious miso soup with rice and edamame beans. Unfortunately, I have not been able to keep food down, but it tasted good and so thoughtful of her! Also, later that day I got a visit from a very cute and calm dog in the PAWS program. The owner set her on the chair, and then dragged the chair over to my bed. (You should have seen the look of trepidation on her face as the chair moved under her.) She was very beautiful, and reminded me of our childhood dog, Emma. She was soft and sweet, and took her job of getting petted very seriously, making sure to hold her head still for me. Later on Thursday, the art therapist stopped by, but I wasn’t feeling well enough to do any projects. I hope to do something today on my own. Stacey, from Stanford Hospital

Miki, great to hear from you again. As much as the reunion sounds like a lot of fun, I already have a daunting amount of trips and goals on my plate related to my health, and visits to those who have sacrificed so much to get me through the Nov. 22 transplant and my two years of illness prior and after. I have been completely humbled, dependent on machines for breathing, the nurses for daily care and later under the full-time personal care of my mother and Dave for four months. Many friends have generously supported me (like yourself) financially and emotionally while I was on the decline and now as I struggle through illness. It has been a complicated challenge in teamwork, and I want to make sure I do my part to show my appreciation when I get better. When my health gets better, I will have to attend to financial challenges of supporting myself and maintaining a lifestyle that is extremely healthy to avoid months in the hospital again. I used to scoff at the doctors who couldn’t believe I was thinking so much about climbing goals, when their goal was “keeping me alive a year from the transplant.” The statistics are 70%…and 50% after five years. I was too brash to believe them but I now know that I’m as mortal as any transplant patient; as much as I’d like to believe otherwise. Of course, I still have my high hopes. My dream is to become strong enough to go ice-climbing with pro Abby Watkins, who just wrote to say she is committed to the trip when I am ready. I was just starting to get back into easy climbing at 3-months post…this set me back another 3 months to be sure. But I have to stay focused, one step at a time, for now. It was an accomplishment to take a shower today, get dressed, and walk down the hall to sit up at the computer. I do want to say I have been very touched by the concern and kindness so many of the class of’85 has shown me since you sent out the notice. I am so glad to hear from everyone even though I have not had the energy to write everyone back. I have many happy memories of high school (even though it might have looked like I was asleep at the parties.) Among my fondest were our walks, talks, gymnastics, track, softball, soccer teams, math team, UW-O classes,and Mrs. V’s class. And our meeting in the cold city of Minneapolis a couple years later! I am truly touched by those of you who remember me 20 years later! Stacey, from Stanford Hospital

The past few days have been difficult, but today I am feeling better again. I managed to take a shower standing up, dry off, get dressed and avoid throwing up due to the exertion! Then I ate almost all my breakfast. In the hospital, small things are accomplishments that I must appreciate. But there are good things about being here, too. The best thing is that my family and friends have been so supportive, and I have had many special visits with people in the last month. Last weekend, Cindy, Rene and Carrie stopped by. Cindy brought sushi and we had a special lunch in my room…Carrie came in the evening and gave me a nice foot massage! Monday evening, Dave and Lorraine came, and today, Julie popped in for a visit and we took a walk down to the beautiful fountains at the front entrance and passed through the tulip garden. Being here make you appreciate people for their compassion, kindness and patience…qualities sometimes hard to see in the fast-paced culture of the SF Bay Area. Stacey, from Stanford Hospital

Hello everyone, Denise and Mom, thanks for keeping in touch. It was nice talking to you on the phone recently, too. I seem to be only able to access my “[email protected]” account right now. I’ll tell you all when I get the hotmail account working again. Progress is slow. Yesterday I walked around for about an hour by myself, pushing my IV pole. I have discovered a new hospital challenge. Now I have to worry about the huge INTELLIBOT, a robot floor cleaner the size of a baby elephant roaming the halls, coming straight towards me with no intention of changing its pre-programmed course. I walk when I can, through the same hallways every day…trying to go a little further. Will it be a record day, 45 minutes, or like today, only 10? I walk to stay moving, to be a part of the world outside my hospital room, with a purpose, but no destination. I remember Lance Armstrong writing that he only felt alive when he was moving– walking, and eventually cycling again. The walking also reminds me of the movie, “Forrest Gump” in which Forrest just starts running, for no particular reason, for years and years. In the end, he marries his sick girlfriend, takes care of her, and raises their son. “Life is like a box of chocolates,” he said. “You never know what you’re going to get.” I think the real trick is to deal with what you DO get, and make a life of it. Here, it is one day at a time. Stacey, from Stanford Hospital