Scary

Yesterday afternoon, my packet arrived from the Johns Hopkins Transplant Center.

Its scary.

Its not scary because of what's written on any of the information. Its scary because if this happens, and is successful, a core part of my being will go away. I've tried explaining this to others - without much success. Most people only see the bright side, and that's a wonderful thing don't get me wrong.

Its just . . . So much of my life has revolved around the fact that I'm a diabetic. Some of my choices regarding life have been shaped by this fact. Big choices. Choices that I would not have made otherwise. Suddenly, to have all those years of life, all those choices made irrelevant by a surgery - that's staggering to me. I'll admit, I'm a bit angry on one level that this couldn't be contemplated earlier in my life. Who knows what could have been? I don't, and I don't plan to dwell in this place, or let this anger take root - but its there, and to deny that would be just plain foolish.

So, I'm a little angry. And I'm a little scared. I'm afraid of what might be. If I'm not a diabetic, what will I be? Who will I be?

I don't know. That's what's scary.