Eight years ago, I received the call that there was a potential donor for my liver transplant. Today I am taking some time for celebration and reflection of the day a selfless donor saved my life.
Eighteen Hours
At 6 am on Sunday, July 14, I answered the phone in my hospital room. A transplant coordinator told me they had found a potential donor for my transplant. Since my transplant was scheduled for midnight on July 15, I had 18 hours to wait.
A lot of things happened in those 18 hours. There were numerous blood draws. I talked with doctors and nurses and visited with family. I shared my news on social media. My abdomen was marked with initials by two separate people. Yes, that is in fact the side of my body where my liver is and where the surgeon should cut.
I also spent time thinking about my donor and his family. I knew my donor was 20 and a man. I felt sadness for the loss his family was going through. I felt moments of guilt that my life was going to be spared while somewhere people were saying goodbye to a vibrant young man. I felt the highest level of gratitude for his gift.
There were moments of fear about the surgical procedure itself. I looked at pictures of my kids and thought about the things I would be able to enjoy with them again. I listened to music that inspired me and helped me feel strong.
Just before midnight, I was transported for surgery. I signed the necessary paperwork, talked to my surgeon and anesthesiologist. I gave hugs to my mom and dad and off I went. The last thing I remember was rolling into the operating room, seeing all of the people hard at work, and saying, “this is so cool!”
Seven Hours and Eleven Days
Seven hours later (or so) I woke up in ICU. At least I think that’s where I was. I wasn’t exactly with it. My mom was there and I remember thinking, “I am so stinkin’ thirsty.” I tried to talk and when that failed, I somehow gesticulated that I wanted to write something. I wrote that I needed water so that my mom could get me some. Nope. What I wrote was a mess of pen marks. Not words. No matter. I was sleeping most of the time, and I received a second surgery to control bleeding somewhere in there.
On day three after my surgery, I moved to a standard room on the transplant floor. Although I was in pain, I was already feeling so much better. My appetite was starting to return and, despite my discontent with walking (hey, it really hurt!), I was getting stronger.
On day 11, after my training about my medications and things to watch for at home, I was discharged. I was far less yellow and I was able to ring the bell as I left the transplant floor three times. I rang it once for my donor and his family, once for myself and for everyone who was with me on my journey, and a final time for all of those who continue to wait.
Welcome Home
When I got home that afternoon, I was greeted by my kids, my sister-in-law, and my niece. They had created a giant banner and my heart was filled with so much joy.
I slept for a few nights on a hide-a-bed in the living room until I could manage the stairs to get down to my bedroom. I went to my clinic visits and gained more strength every day.
About a month later, we had a small get-together to celebrate my transplant. I felt so lucky to be able to spend time with my family and friends and not be so sick and weak. I thought of all of the times pre-transplant where my mind would be distracted with thoughts of “this could be the last time.”
A New Me
Transplant changes you. Um, duh! The changes are not all physical though. It changes who you are as a person. Not because you have a new organ, but because going through something like a transplant is a massive ordeal. It would be pretty dang difficult to go through the transplant journey without being changed. It changes your outlook, who you are emotionally, and how you interact with others.
Every day I wake up and I am grateful that I’m alive. Even when I feel gross, grumpy, or tired. “Normal” events are special. Those close to me would tell you that I cry a lot. I cry, not because I am sad, but because being able to attend something like my niece’s first birthday is a huge gift! I cry because a movie in the park with my husband and daughter is something I could have missed!
Do I still get angry and irritated? Sure I do. But going through a transplant has taught me that life is far too short to get bogged down with all of that. I am not perfect and I do get complacent. When that happens, it’s time to think back and recall all the pain, the worry, and the joy.
A Whole New Life
Three months after my transplant, after some coaxing by a good friend, I joined an online dating site. Two weeks later I started talking with the incredible man I am so happy to now call my husband. I have an amazing 20-year-old step-daughter.
My kids are smart, caring, beautiful people who understand how precious our lives are. The children who were 13 and 8 when I received my transplant, are now 16 and 21. I get to see them grow, fall, pick themselves up, and thrive.
I’ve had the privilege of being here for the passing of my grandparents and one of my brothers. Because of my donor, I’ve been here for the birth of two nieces and a nephew, several family weddings, and even an adoption!
There has been laughter, pain, loss, and life. It may seem odd to celebrate all of the things life brings, including loss. But stress, life changes, challenges, failures, and loss are all part of what makes our lives whole.
Before my transplant, I remember hoping for one more hour, or one more day. One day to experience all life had to give. I wanted to spend more time with my kids, my family, and my friends.
The thing is, though, you can’t take only the good life has. I know that life can be good one minute and slipping through your fingers the next. So, I’ll willingly take all it has to offer. The good and the bad.
Celebration
Tomorrow I celebrate eight years of new life. The hope for one more hour or one more day has become so much more. I have seen more than 70,000 hours and 2,900 days. Eight years of seeing my kids grow. Eight years of love and companionship. Eight years of challenges, pain, and loss. I celebrate every second of this time I’ve been given.
Today and every day I am grateful to my donor for his gift. I am grateful to his family for honoring his decision. I am grateful for my family and friends who were with me through my journey.
It doesn’t take going through a transplant to be grateful and celebrate though. Take a look at those around you. Your spouse or partner, your kids, your family, and your friends. Remember how incredibly fortunate we all are to live our lives each day. Close your eyes and soak in every moment you can. There are so many to celebrate.
