self portrait

The world has body image issues. I have come to some peace with mine. It is about time. I now weigh ten lbs less than in university forty years ago: 225 vs 235.  I dropped the weight I had piled on to prep for open heart surgery. I have kept it off. The chest line hanging out of my chest is for hemodialysis. Tubing connects me to a machie which cleans my blood. I go three times per week for four hours of blood cleaning. The chest lines are problematical. No swimming and artful acrobatic partial showering.  With a kidney transplant the line will go. With line gone, I will be able to swim and shower.  You can see my surgical scar where they cut my sternum to open my ribs to get at my heart. It is the vertical line centre of my chest.  I am 62. I am at the top of the transplant list after 7.5 years of dialysis. I am filled with joy at the prospect.  There will be many changes. Almost all of them will be for the better.  The end of the chest line will be huge.

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