We have settled into a very unroutine (for us) routine. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, he has to be at the lab at 7 a.m. for a blood draw so they can see what his antirejection drug levels are at their very lowest point. After that, he takes the Prograf and a dozen other pills. Every day, so far, we've been called with an adjustment before the evening dose. He consistently gets too much. The result of that is headaches (diminishing) and trembling that is unbelievable. It shakes the bed as much as a small child bouncing on it would. I can't even describe it. Wow. That's a sign of too much drug and reaction to it -- both will diminish over time, we're told. But it's startling. And that many tremors also burns a lot of calories, so his needs as he heals are high. Just to maintain his weight (and we're not, he's losing) requires about 3600 calories a day. Yikes. That's a lot of food to stuff down a man who has no appetite. Fortunately, I'm not feeling called upon to match him bite for bite.
When he was diagnosed, I instantly packed on 30 pounds. My doctor said they were stress pounds — "your body thinks it's winter and that's what it calculates it needs to survive" — and would not leave until he got a transplant. I snickered. The week after transplant, I was within 7 pounds of my pre-diagnosis weight. It's odd to drop the equivalent of a large bag of potatoes without doing anything. Sadly, though, he's dropping weight, too, which is a not a good thing for getting healthy in his case.
We went for a walk today. About a half mile or better. It taxed him; sidewalks are different than hospital hallways. But he did it willingly.
And spring is blooming, which matches what's in my heart.