This blog has documented a large portion of my journey toward my second transplant (liver #3), but the story of my first transplant is one that many people do not know, so here is a short version of how it happened;
One day, during November of my senior year in college, I spiked a temperature of 104+. Needless to say I needed to get to a hospital and was in no shape for driving. I called my girlfriend at the time (Spoiler Alert: I ended up marrying her), and she drove me to the ER. We left a few hours later after some IV antibiotics and no answers. A week later, I followed up with my GI doctor, and he mentioned something about the blood work they drew in the ER being abnormal, specifically my liver function numbers. We spent the next 5 months trying to determine exactly what the cause of the abnormalities. We slowly ruled out one diagnosis at a time. Finally in March, I was diagnosed with PSC. PSC is so rare especially in younger people(I was only 21 at the time), it was one of the last things they looked for.
At the time we were told that I would eventually need a transplant, but likely not for 10-15 years. That changed in May after a biopsy when I was diagnosed with stage 3 (out of 4) PSC. This meaning that my time frame for a transplant was closer to 3-5 years. Think about that one for a minute. One week before graduating from college, and being told that I may only have 3-5 years to live. INTENSE...
Two weeks after graduating, we moved to Florida and started to see the doctors at Lifelink. By August I had started the testing, and by October the wait began. The wait was different then however, at that time the MELD score was not used for placement on the list. Of course the blood tests were a factor, but so was the amount of time you spent on the list. So if somebody was really sick, they were still placed at the bottom of the list because they were newly diagnosed. Not until they were really, really sick would they start moving up. On February 27, 2002, that changed. It was a Wednesday and we'll never forget it.
On that day UNOS changed the placement criteria to the MELD score. I went from not even being on the list because I wasn't waiting long enough, to the top. That night, the very first day I was on the list, I got the call. It was around 10:30, and I had just fallen asleep. The phone rang and a woman on the other end of the phone asked for me by name. Although you may find this hard to believe, strange women do not usually call me late at night, so I immediately shot up in bed. The coordinator explained to me that I was "on deck" for surgery the next morning. They had a surgery scheduled for someone else, but there was a possibility that they would not be able to perform the surgery on that person. The last thing she said to me before she hung up was "try to get some sleep". And somehow, I did.
Just one hour prior to the phone call as I was driving home, I said a very simple prayer; "I surrender to You" I prayed. I gave up control of what was happening to God. I was willing to accept whatever was His will. It worked out pretty well for me.
Not only did I sleep that night, I went to work the next morning. I was teaching second grade at the time. I taught on a team with three other teachers and had contact with close to 100 students a day. That morning, I stood in front of 100 six, seven and eight year olds and tried to explain to them that I needed a liver transplant. I told them that I was sick but there was no medicine that would help. I told them that part of my body was broken and the doctors needed to replace it. I told them that I would be gone for a long time. As I was telling them this, my phone rang. "Get here now" the coordinator told me. I turned to see tears streaming down the faces of a room filled of Kindergarten , First and Second graders. I grabbed my bag, told them all that I would see them soon, and I was off.
My wife and I both raced to the hospital from our jobs. We had both just filled our bosses in that we were 'officially' on the list and the call could happen anytime. Within minutes we were both racing to the hospital. We made calls on the way, and talked to each other to keep the nerves down and the driving safe. Coming from different counties, she beat me to the hospital and was in a nervous panic. She was waiting for me outside the main entrance as I pulled in, all the while still talking to her on the phone.
My arrival at the hospital was met with much anticipation. The nurses had been waiting and immediately began my prep for surgery. Within two hours of my arrival, I was alone with my wife (fiancee at the time) in the hallway outside the OR. We gripped each other tight and wiped tears out of each others eyes, waiting for the inevitable. It came sooner then we wanted, and with a kiss I was wheeled away. "Have Faith" was the last thing I said to her as our hands were torn apart.
In the OR, I starred at the bright lights above the table and watched as no less then 15 people moved hurriedly around the room. You would have thought that it would have been a loud chaotic scene, but that is not not how I remember. Maybe some of was the drugs beginning to take effect, but I believe it was something more. I said one more prayer as I was wheeled into the OR, and an instant wave of serenity washed over me. As the drugs did take full effect, and my eyes lids became heavier, I knew that I was going to be alright. I knew that God had more planned for me.
And here I am. Six years later and still going strong.
P.S. Yes, that was the short version.
1 comment:
Thanks for sharing that. I can't wait till my husband and I can share our story of his transplant.
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