T is for ...
T' is for thank you, time, treatment, transplant and trams ... trams?
Forget Freud, I'm thinking Stevie Wonder, rhythm and lyrics to Higher Ground. I'm so glad that I know more than I knew then ... gonna keep on tryin' ... 'til I reach my highest ground.
Skirting along Hobart's silvery dock-side tram tracks to regular pathology testing. Syncopated steps to the distinctive sound and smell of Melbourne's trams.
Staying for six weeks treatment and recovery.
World keep on turnin' ... cause it won't be too long.
Fellow travellers and gowned drivers rattling and swaying together en route, stops and connections ... testing ... monitoring ... dialysis ... transplant waiting list ... doors swinging into theatre ... or the end of the line.
The ultimate journey, a one way ticket to the terminus with a capital 'T'. Buzzers and bells, snagging cannulae snaking along the grips above: The 'T' signal flashes ... Hang on ... we're going around the corner!
Shouldering each other's hopes and dreams of renal therapy. Faces cinematically flicker by.
Lovingly supportive family and friends past and present. Patients and pioneers of medical technology.
Hosts of hospital staff, hovering around and alongside. Our trust in their skill and compassion, so many to show our appreciation and thanks for their time and talent.
I'm so glad he let me try it again ...'cause my last time on earth I lived a ...
Humming along beside me is my brother Richard, my wonderful living donor. He's been studying the tram time-table.
Enduring the testing and waiting, experiencing what Charles Morgan so beautifully expressed, One cannot shut one's eyes to things not seen with eyes.
We sense our Dad's loving spirit giving us strength.
Our stop approaches. A future bright and renewing filled with energy and joy!
Alighting the tram with Richard, this humbling journey allows us time to reflect and wish our fellow travellers well.
We turn together to meet our family waiting for us on higher ground.
I'm so glad ...
Heather