They say there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but for someone navigating the tunnel of life for a long time, it is not the light that provides hope. Instead, it’s the trickling water, the fresh breeze that blows, and the occasional light streaming through cracks in the roof that bring immense joy.
There are days when we cannot walk through the tunnel and must crawl, simply because we refuse to give up. My mind questions today: will I be sane enough to recognize that I walked out of the tunnel? Does it even make a difference if I do? By then, I am a changed person—my desires, wishes, and wants have withered away during this endless journey.
In the end, small things are enough to keep the day moving, and the big things no longer hold much significance.
As I navigate the world of dialysis once again and grapple with the questions and ethics of undergoing another transplant, there is so much for my mind to process and my body to endure. This journey through dialysis makes me feel like I am back in the tunnel.
When a friend asked me, “What is the one thing you want to do or that immediately comes to mind now?”—while the question is relevant, I found I didn’t have any single desire or wish I could articulate in the next few minutes. It felt as though I have already done so many things in life and have most of the comforts I could ask for.
I can sense the weight of uncertainty and exhaustion that comes with navigating dialysis and transplant decisions. It’s like being in a tunnel with no clear exit, feeling overwhelmed by the physical and emotional demands of this journey. Your honesty about not having a clear desire or wish is refreshing, and it’s okay to not have all the answers. Remember that you’re not alone, and your strength and resilience have carried you through challenging times before. Keep moving forward, even when the path ahead is unclear.