One the definitions of 'acceptance' is: the mental state of taking reality as it is. Reality, and how it is. Almost a year ago, I started learning more about acceptance. When I was diagnosed in early September that I had a diseased liver, and if I didn't stop drinking, it could kill me literally at any moment. The percentage of my liver that was still able to function (and not destroyed by cirrhosis) was pulling some major overtime, which was not helping anything at all. The staff in the ER that first visit gently said I should contact my PCP, and get appointments with a GI, and a liver specialist. When I saw the PCP, she added on a general surgeon, as I had an umbilical hernia already going on as well.
All of that was pretty much in the first two weeks. I have been thinking hard about what was going on; what are my percentages of dying if I do nothing; what will I go through if I do nothing, or yet, if I do start with orders from the doctors. Yes, the morbid thoughts of dying were forefront in my mind. I had stopped drinking voluntarily back when the basic diagnosis came in, and actually a few days before that, because I wasn't feeling good. What if I didn't stop? I knew that if I had one, it would turn into a hundred. The only time I said no to alcohol was when I ran out cash on me, or closing time, it seemed.
Though I have joked for years with bar buddies about being a drunk, because Alcoholics go to meetings, I started thinking about that. Doctors were asking if am going to join, if I was going to stop drinking. I had to tell them honestly that I did not know. I was contemplating my life, and realizing how bad I had lived mine for around 35 years. It's literally sobering. I didn't want to be going to meetings (had a bad couple encounters at AA before - story for another time), so I decided I would do it on my own. By this time, I was seeing doctors, starting a medication regime (to stop symptoms so they could find the true problem). I did not need the surgery for the hernia - as long as it wasn't leaking fluid, and caused no pain, that Dr. said they would fix it during my transplant.
That was the first definitive time I heard anything about a transplant. Before, I was under the impression with decent medical care, I may not need that extreme. I also was STILL waiting to see the liver specialist. When I finally saw him (in December - 4 months later) more medication was added to my list. I returned for a follow-up in January, and though some things had improved, others had not. HE adjusted a dosage of the medication he had prescribed. In February, the specialist admitted it was time to call in the big guns. He reached out to Banner's transplant facility, for them to call/evaluate me for transplant. Banner called, and denied the opportunity as the costs related to the procedure and years of after-care would be extensive and financially draining to me (they were not on my plan - but their hospitals are - the transplant works separately of hospitals and has it's own rules I guess). I became depressed. What do I do? A few days pass, and I get a call from Mayo Clinic and they complete a basic phone medical history. They needed to pull reports on my ER visits, and all the doctors I had been seeing. They stated I need to stop drinking (still had not drank since 9/6) and to stop taking the THC gummy I did at night to help me get to sleep. In March, they took me on as a patient for the transplant procedure.
In one of those early consults with a doctor on my transplant team, they went over the odds both ways, of having versus not having, the transplant. We discussed basic life with after-care. Again, reminder to not drink, stop taking the gummies (no probs) and since I was a light smoker, they said I may be able to get through it all without having to quit (that turned out to be false). It was at this time that a decision had to be made to do the transplant route, suffer through symptoms and live out my days, limited though they would be, or do nothing and die at an undetermined time.
Death does not scare me by any means. But what does is my family and how they would go on without me. How much hurt and pain I would cause with my death. I had young grandchildren ... I wanted to see them grow up. I didn't want to leave my Wife alone. I thought long and hard, then decided to toss in the proverbial towel, and follow the transplant route - NO MATTER WHAT.
A couple requirements were needing to be completed prior to even being considered for the waiting list, was an Intensive Outpatient Program (IOP) minimum of 8 weeks. The next day I had found a place, and started the next day. Another was I had to attend an AA Meeting a minimum of one time per week, for the next three years minimum. I went to AA, found out there are Zoom meetings now versus in-person (though they still do those as well). I threw my attitude into the trash, and went to a meeting (online) three days after being informed of the requirement.
Where am I going? Well, I accepted it all. Accepted the chances of dying. The chance of recovery (better than the dying ones). Lowered my walls and accepted the IOP. By the end of my 8 weeks, the fellowship of group had felt so good, and I learned quite a bit while attending. I had been attending one AA meeting a little more than others, and started joining more often, then asked to join as my Home Group. I know go an average of 5 days a week for learning, experience sharing, fellowship. Though I don't cravings, and really have not had any since I quit in September, I still am supposed to follow the program steps.
So many other things I have had to learn to accept: How I wronged others in my drinking years. How bad did it destroy my body, other than my liver. This is ALL going to be Lifetime Changes, and there is no turning back, just failure and death. I accepted it all. And now I am working hard at accepting Christ again (my Higher Power). I lost faith and now am filled with doubts about me and God. I'm reading help books, I am trying to glean knowledge from the Bible. I'm praying. Many in AA said that their Sponsors would tell them of their struggles, to 'fake it until you make it'. I'm not doing that with my relationship with God. I'm trying to correct ME to be the person I should have been all these years I wasn't.
Wow, that was a bit more than I wanted to throw out there, but I guess I felt the need. I am not worried about people knowing about this medical stuff. I've accepted it, they can too!
And with that, I am out of here before I ramble more ...
PeacE
