I went to bed on January 31, 2018, exhausted and in tears. After putting in a full days work and attending Bible study, I was wiped out. Twelve days earlier, I had been hospitalized briefly and received 2 blood transfusions and IV diuretics. This resulted in a nice rally and 20 lb weight loss over a 3-day period. I knew I wouldn’t be able to work full time much longer and dreaded having that conversation with my manager. A living donor had come forward, was vetted and waiting in the wings; however, she couldn’t do the surgery until April 15th at the earliest. I was so sick I didn’t feel like I had that much time. My MELD score had risen to 28 and I was still #1 on Piedmont’s transplant list for an O blood type liver. I prayed that night asking the Lord to help me get through the week; five and half hours later, the answer came!
On February 1, 2018 at 3:08 am, the phone rang and I immediately thought: did I oversleep? Has something happened to a family member? I put on my glasses and saw the number was from Grand Prairie TX. I answered the phone and a woman, identifying herself an employee of Piedmont Hospital, told me that an offer for a liver had been made and asked if I was still interested. She spoke at such a casual, slow pace that it almost seemed like a prank. The first words out of my mouth were “Oh My God” and then I nearly yelled “YES!” I immediately started asking questions at the same time she was trying to give instructions (each time we spoke at the same time, she would stop talking and then S-L-O-W-L-Y begin speaking again). She asked how long ago I had eaten and how far away I lived. She told me not to eat or drink anything else and head to Piedmont Hospital’s Emergency Room where I’d be admitted to the transplant floor. She told me not to rush that I had plenty of time.
Stan and I stood in stunned silence with “WOW…this just got REAL” tears in our eyes as I hung up the phone. We hugged each other and began running around hastily packing the “go bag”, getting dressed, feeding the cats and putting a key under the mat for whoever was going to feed them later that day. I didn’t get overly excited because I knew it wasn’t a guarantee I’d get the liver and didn’t think I could survive the disappointment if it fell through. When we got into the car, the first thing I did was send an email to my manager. Then I called my mom (thankfully her husband answered the phone – his calm, collected voice was just what I needed at the time). I sent texts to my 3rd floor office peeps and then nervously chatted with Stan the rest of the way in.
Bag is packed…Let’s roll!
Flying through Downtown on the Connector
I reiterated to Stan that I wanted him to take pictures of everything (the good, the bad and the ugly) to help document the process. 45 minutes later, we pulled into the ER parking lot and bolted from the car. Before we walked 10 steps, a man materialized out of thin air, advising we couldn’t leave the car in the lot (he was the parking attendant). I was in such a hurry to get into the hospital I felt like yelling “you can have it!” and throw the keys at him. But I calmly produced the $10 required to valet and paid the man.
When I walked into the ER, there were admitting orders waiting for me. As I signed the form, I noticed it had the name “Harrison Pollinger MD” on it. My heart skipped a beat because he was the doctor I had hoped would do my surgery since hearing him speak at a liver transplant support group meeting 3 years ago. I didn’t get my hopes up since he’s a Program Director at the Mason Transplant Clinic and I assumed his name was on all the admitting forms for transplant.
Checking in at the ER…I’m so nervous I’m shaking
Registered and waiting to go upstairs when reality hits…LOL
I think we waited 5 minutes before I was taken to the 6th floor. Once we were in the room, nurses came in and started an IV, took blood samples, weighed me, told me I would be having a chest x-ray soon and said “a doctor will be by shortly to talk with you about the surgery” They also said an “OR was scheduled for noon” and I’d need to bathe before I went. I had the chest x-ray and was returned to the room and we waited. The doctor never came by and I was beginning to worry the liver was not a match.
The first of MANY vials of blood that would be pulled this week
The Golden Lion weighs in
Nearly 5 hours later, a nurse came into the room and said transport was on their way to take me to the OR. She looked at my street clothes and said “you haven’t bathed yet???” and I told her that no doctor had spoken with us and I wasn’t 100% sure surgery was happening today. She said “transport is on their way and you need to go now” I jumped up, stripped off my clothes (in front of the two nurses and my husband) and took the world’s fastest bath standing on a towel in front of the tiny sink in my room. My husband and the nurses were helping me into the gown and gathering my clothes when the gurney arrived. Stan followed us on the elevator as far as the pre-op area and was then diverted to a waiting room.
Once in pre-op, I spoke with a nurse who took my vitals and explained that the anesthesiologist would be by to talk with me. I asked if I would be speaking with the doctor prior to surgery and she said “oh, you haven’t spoken with anyone yet?” After speaking with the anesthesiologist, a PA from the transplant clinic came in and explained the transplant process at a very high level and asked me if I understood the risks. I told him I was going to die without a transplant, so this is my only option and signed the consent form. I asked if I was actually going to have surgery that day and he said “I hope so, the OR is booked for noon” I asked the nurse to get my husband and he was brought back just minutes before Dr. Pollinger walked into the room. To say I was happy he was my surgeon is an understatement. As he walked into the room, I literally heard the “angels singing” sound effect in my head (the one you hear when a bright light shines down from heaven) – I watch too much TV, it’s evident from that last comment.
Dr. Pollinger said they had a really nice liver and the size of the organ was a good match. The donor was also a petite woman (up to this point I had never considered myself petite) and that the size of our rib cages and internal organs were very similar. That is the only thing I know about my donor. Up to that point, I wondered whether I would get a liver from a man or a woman (apparently sex doesn’t matter with livers), but secretly wanted one from a woman.
Once the doctor left, Stan and I said the fastest good-byes ever. Stan started to cry as they wheeled me out and that scared me. It hit me that my diseased liver was going to be permanently removed and there was no guarantee the new one would work. As the medicine started to kick in, I saw my entire marriage flash before my eyes (17+ years of love, gratitude, happiness, apologies, thanksgiving, shared sorrow and joy, the life we built). The last thing I remember is an overwhelming feeling that I needed to tell Stan all of those things.
My original liver
My “new” liver
First day in ICU in a medically induced coma
First Day in ICU – scars and all
So I encourage you to say the things that go through your mind, especially as they relate to your spouse or children. Tell them you love them, how nice they look, how funny they are, how much you enjoy doing things with them. Don’t ever assume they know how much you love them or how wonderful you think they are. If you need to forgive them, do it and let them know. If you need to apologize, do it today. Nobody knows how long they have. When I was 7 years old, I didn’t think I would die sometime in my early 50’s. Even with the knowledge of a terminal illness, the “end” crept up on me like the proverbial thief in the night. My takeaway: Live your life, love your people, take care of your body – it’s an amazing evidence of God’s handiwork second to none. Be honorable, be decent, be kind, and leave the world a better place. Infuse grace and mercy everywhere you go – be the light and the salt of the world. And please, please, please consider being an organ donor.
As always – thanks for walking this journey with me.
All Hail the Queen