Didja ever notice the cold indifference that sets in, oft times, when you get what you want? Maybe my case isn't typical, after all, it's a life and death issue thinly disguised behind a series of choices and decisions that all must remain within strict tolerances to insure my survival. Still, that initial first step, the one that paves the way for the progression of more dramatic steps has been met with a cynical rejection, as if to say, sure, I've finally been re-listed for a second transplant but am I up to the task and whole heartedly willing and capable of taking that chance? Just as importantly, are the doctors?
Although I've considered death as a viable alternative to suffering, the mortality rate for dying in surgery having a second transplant is high. The second time around the myriad of tiny blood vessels needing reconnected are more brittle and delicate and recovery is always difficult.
Complications arise and while some can be dealt with, some amount to nothing more than a crap shoot whether or not they heal.
I know, in the end, if I'm eventually next in line to receive a 2nd new liver, that I'll take the chance, but not awakening on the operating table isn't the way I ever fancied going. It's too passive a death and I've been anything but passive most of my life.