Waiting in Vain

If you’ve ever ridden the New York City subway system, you know the constant agony you experience waiting for your train. Slowly edging beyond the yellow line, you peek to see if there are any headlights coming in your direction. You check your watch, your phone, your i-pod, hoping that the anxiety you feel will somehow bring the train earlier. And then there is the constant questioning of your decisions; If only I would have skipped breakfast, ran instead of walked, jumped the turnstile…who knows, I could be riding the train this very instant.

As I approach eight months on the waiting list for an upgrade, I’ve become keenly aware of the trials and tribulations of waiting. Every day I feel a little more tired, a little less healthy, and a lot more itchy. And just like waiting for the subway to arrive, there is nothing I can do about it. My doctors keep telling me that I’m high on their radar and that I can realistically expect a call any day for a liver. Three months ago that answer got me excited. A month later, it kept me satisfied. By now, its barely keeping me sane. In all honesty, I feel like my doctors give me a timeline just to keep me from going crazy waiting.

Statistically, the average liver patient waits a year before getting his or her transplant. In New York that number is closer to two years. A year really doesn’t sound that bad. But when your mind and body both feel the agony of waiting, that time feels exponentially longer. I’m sure when I’ll get the call for my new liver, I’ll be excited, scared, and anxious all at the same time. I don’t even know if I’ll be prepared for the call. But until that moment arrives, there’s nothing I can do except wait.