October 3, 2012

It's Wednesday, and it's afternoon so I'm performing my normal taxi service, picking up kids, dropping them at practice, preparing quick dinner, and everyone eating on the run. Transplant Center calls. I am the primary recipient eligible for organs from an almost-deceased donor. He was 38 years old, healthy kidneys and pancreas, and he died from a brain hemorrhage. The nurse tells me he had a history of pot smoking, but that there is no effect on these organs. Will I accept his organs? Because I obviously have nothing else on my mind, I briefly wonder if in the future I'll be up late with the munchies because of my potentially new pot smoking organs. YES, I'll accept the organs. 

What next?

Cross match tests. The nurse tells me to eat immediately and then nothing else to be sure my stomach is empty for potential surgery. I decide the best thing to do is to eat the least healthy food I can think of as it could be the last food I eat for a while. My son is shocked and excited when we pull into Kentucky Fried Chicken parking lot. He gets to receive the trickle down benefits of my "last meal" choice, and he is so excited for fried chicken and French fries. I order the worst possible meal for a diabetic, a KFC mashed potato bowl. It's mashed potatoes, gravy, chicken nuggets, and corn. And, as luck would have it, there's a water shortage today and the only drinks they have are regular, not sugar free, canned sodas. My son enjoys his fried food and Sprite. I top off my meal with a very thick, sugar-laden Dr Pepper. I devour all 1000 calories and 134 carbohydrates without blinking. I don't forget to pick up more unhealthy food for the kids I've yet to pick up. 

I start the countdown process again, call kids' dad, he'll take over after school tomorrow. I let my employers know, and this time, there's a lot more that needs to be taken over in my absence. Ugh. I pack the kids' bags, get my stuff ready, and, of course...WAIT. The house is clean, all laundry is done. I can't find anything else to keep me busy, and it's only 10 pm. No call yet. I still can't sleep, and I try. A lot. I refuse to start dialysis tonight as it feels like I would be giving up on the potential call. Emotionally, I can't afford to do this now. I think I drifted off a few times, but I was wide awake at 4 am when the nurse called. 

"Michelle? At this point, you are eligible to receive the organs we've checked via cross match. Are you able to come to the hospital right now?"

YES! I kiss my daughter goodbye, remind her how proud I am of her for getting her brother up and on the bus in the morning, and head off to the hospital for a kidney and pancreas transplant. On the drive, I'm figuring in a few hours I'll be out of surgery and living a life without kidney disease or diabetes...Yay!

An hour an a half later, registration takes an amazingly long time at a barren hospital at 5:30 in the morning. We are given terrible directions on where to go, and end up in the pre-surgical check in(makes sense, right?), but that was wrong. We eventually find our way to my room on the 10th floor. I have to wait in a hospital bed.

It seems so strange to me as I don't feel sick; I feel excited. Although the nurse on the phone made it seem important that I come right away, no one at the hospital shared that same sense of urgency. 

Eventually, a nurse came in and suggested I put on a gown(There's nothing like a hospital gown to make you look sick.). A resident came by and asked some health history questions. An hour or so passed. I was carted off on a stretcher for a chest x ray. More hours passed, just waiting. The resident came back and asked some more questions. A tech took some blood. More waiting. The surgeon came, told me we wouldn't get started for a few more hours...geez. I signed a bunch of paperwork and...waited. On the surgeon's second visit, he let me know, by the way, we'll be removing your appendix too, as it gets in the way...hmmm. And, surgery is now scheduled for 1pm.