Things escalated since the transplant.
First, the complications arising just days after the surgery—fevers, pain, bruising.
Then the limited visits to my husband, each time getting a bit worse.
A nurse mentioned ‘rejection’ cautiously; the doctor avoided eye contact.
I overheard fragments of hushed phone calls between them, too technical to fully understand.
Two days ago, they delayed his discharge indefinitely.
Each day feels heavier with uncertainty.
Now, I’m dreading the follow-up meeting with the lead surgeon scheduled for tomorrow morning.
I’ve been putting off calling the hospital for updates, afraid they might give me more bad news.
This meeting feels like an impending verdict.
The uncertainty is suffocating, and the weight of what the doctor whispered that day still hangs between us, unspoken but undeniable.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
