The Sober Widow

Chapter 18

I’ll keep this brief because there’s no need to draw it out. I can sum up the months of recuperation fairly easily: follow-up doctor visits, removal of the drains hanging off me, blood/urine draws once a week with 77 tests performed on them, eating a very lowfat diet and waiting around to be able to drive again.

I have to shout out to my brother, Mike, my friends Suzi and Lucia, my brother-in-law Russell for driving me places when I couldn’t, and the multitude of friends and relatives who checked in on me, visited me and basically cheered me up. I am so very lucky for so many reasons, and that’s certainly one of them. Mike even stayed with me until March when we both decided that (a) he was sick of me, and rightly so, and (b) I would be fine on my own. I had interrupted his life quite enough!

I officially came home from the hospital on December 18, 2023. It was probably earlier than the doctors wanted me to, but I was determined to be home for Christmas. No way did I want to miss it from the comfort of my own home, bed, dog and good food. They made me work for it, though. I had to prove that I could handle walking and taking the stairs, since my bedroom is on the second floor. With the help of the nurses, aides and PT people, I did it. I already posted about that part, so I’ll skip to the drains.

After surgery, I had three plastic bulbs inserted and hanging off me to drain out the excess fluid. They filled up very quickly and had to be emptied often. Before leaving, I was able to have one of them removed, but that still left two that I was now responsible for emptying and changing the dressing. Unfortunately, they both started leaking because there was a little room around each incision, and I had to change the dressing every couple of hours. Of course, I had nothing else to do, but that’s not the point! I couldn’t believe how much gauze, bandages and tape was wasted. The visiting nurse did it when she came (twice a week) and arranged for more supplies to be sent to me. They sent so much that I still have some a year and a half later.

I had to go back to the hospital right after Christmas anyway, and persuaded them to take out one drain that had slowed to a trickle, and then they put in a stitch to make sure the incision stayed closed. They asked me if I wanted a Lidocaine shot to numb me up, but knowing how much that shot hurts, I figured why bother when the stitch itself probably won’t hurt any more than that? And I was right, but poor Suzi was there for the appointment and is likely scarred for life (sorry hon!).

That left one drain, which isn’t so terrible except for when I had to go out. For doctors’ appointments and blood draws, I could just wear sweats, but during this time, my uncle Al died (bless him, he was 91 and lived a good life) and I wanted to go to the funeral. Since Mike was living with me anyway, and he would be going as well, he drove us the hour it took to get to Norwood where the services were held. But that meant I had to wear something nice, which was challenging! But I made it, and here’s a picture of me and my cousin Judee to commemorate it. I was SO HAPPY to be out of the house at an actual event, but I wore a mask most of the time and used a cane. Nevertheless, my family was thrilled to see me as well. I’m glad I went, even if it was slightly dangerous, because I wanted to pay my respects.

Fast forward to about two weeks after that when I was able to get the final drain removed. Another two stitches, more pain. Totally worth it. Then I browbeat them into letting me drive because I was sick of making other people have to take me places. This came about because they wanted me to hightail it into Boston because they didn’t like a reading on my kidney and needed me to have an ultrasound. With such short notice, I had no one to take me, so I told them it was me driving myself or not at all, and they said okay. Don’t worry, it turned out to be a false alarm and I was okay.

Looking back, it’s kind of like a dream now. Based on the odds, and the incredible hurdles I had to leap, the fact that I recuperated so well is damn near miraculous, and my doctors told me as much. This was largely due to the fact that I am a rules-follower and I did exactly what they told me to do. And unlike other liver transplant patients, who to my dismay do start drinking again, I was determined that since I had a second chance at life, I would honor that (and also honor the sacrifice my donor family made). As I write this, a year and half later, I haven’t and will not ever drink alcohol again. I know at least five people that would kill me themselves if I ever started to kill myself this way! (You know who you are! 😊)

Over the next few months, I slowly started to get back into the swing of life. Of course, now the grief settled in firmly and I found myself sobbing at the least little thing: a song we liked, another season coming out of a show we watched together, stupid stuff that happened that only he would laugh at with me). All of the inside jokes no one else will ever get. A look across the room, a touch, a smile – no one to share that with. I miss him still, more than I can possibly put into words.

I received permission to exercise and I joined a Pilates studio, which I still attend. I love it. It’s perfect for me with my back and shoulder issues. The instructors all know me and know that if I’m not doing a move their way, it’s because I’ve modified it for myself and they help me with that. An amazing place. Ask me if you want to know, I’m happy to share!

I was considered fully recovered and able to go back to work in August 2024. But, I decided that I loved being retired, and that I would finally start working on things I’ve always wanted to do, like stage managing a play (so much fun, and many new friends as a result), volunteering at the Marblehead Council on Aging (where I serve lunch to the seniors on Tuesdays and help the office with their monthly newsletter) and in the fall, I contacted the organization HAWC. HAWC stands for Healing Abuse, Working for Change, and is a place that provides support, shelter, legal advocacy and sometimes advice to domestic violence victims. It’s something I’ve wanted to do since law school and I am now a volunteer legal advocate. I’ve spent most of my time at Salem District Court but next week I’ll be going to Lynn, then Peabody. And in the fall I’ll sign up to be a SAFEPLAN advocate (a more advanced version of what I’m doing now). We offer assistance in completing the applications for and obtaining a temporary restraining or harassment order and then create a plan for safety for after the opposing party receives a copy of said order, because there’ll be a hearing in ten days to make the order permanent or to disallow it once the other side has their say.

The only thing currently missing in my life is Tony. Otherwise, I’m happy and healthy and doing what I love. And being retired affords me the time to see my friends and family much more frequently. The new friends I’ve made in the theatre are often performing in other plays and playhouses in the vicinity, and I’ve seen many great productions over the past few months. I went to Sicily in October (and ended up in the hospital for two weeks there, courtesy of a UTI, but am fine now). I also went to Egypt in April 2025 and visited relatives in Alabama in May. I have trips booked to Hawaii and Southeast Asia in 2026.

I almost died, and didn’t. I’m determined to live life to the fullest.