The Renal Transplant Journey

Writing about a renal transplant journey is not easy.

It means reopening chapters you carefully folded away.

It means remembering the darker side of your own life — the blood, the bandages, the endless vials drawn for tests. The shivering during dialysis. The occasional fainting. The swings between high BP and low BP. The slow erosion of modesty. The feeling of being exposed — not just physically, but emotionally. Powerless.

Strangely, it wasn’t just the surgery or the recovery that haunted me.

It was the time before the surgery.

Those months were heavier. Darker. Filled with uncertainty. That phase planted seeds of self-doubt — questioning every decision I had made, and then questioning the questioning itself. At times, I allowed others to make decisions for me because I no longer trusted my own clarity.

Even now, as I sit down to write this, the same questions resurface:

Should I write this?

Why should I write this?

Am I seeking solace? Sympathy?

Will this make me look weak, helpless — or worse, like I’m begging for validation?

These thoughts are real. They don’t disappear just because you survive.

But the decision is made.

So here I am.

This is not just a story about illness.

It’s not just about surgery scars or hospital corridors.

This will be a documentary of resilience.

An exercise in reflection.

A diary of transformation.

Over the last few years, I didn’t just go through a medical journey — I went through a psychological, professional, and existential reset. This space will blend my lived experience with the insights I gained along the way.

It won’t always be comfortable.

It won’t always be polished.

But it will be honest.

So I genuinely ask you —

Fasten your seatbelt.

Because this is going to be one hell of a ride.