Breathe, Have Faith, Be Joyful

NOTE: This post is a special post to be read in conjunction with the Sunday, July 18 story on organ transplants. Next week this blog will return to its original format and content.

Last October 6, at around 9 am, I awoke to my phone ringing. Annoyed, I answered it only to be more irritated that it was St Mary's Hospital in Grand Rapids. I assumed they were doing their regular check-ups on me, as they had done for several years, ever since my name was added to the kidney transplant list. They would ask a few questions about my state of health and my insurance, to keep records updated in case a kidney came through for me. Most of the time, I would not return their calls or ignore the call on purpose, since I didn't really think they would ever call me to have a transplant. That Tuesday, though, instead of firing off the round of questions, they said, "Anna, we have a kidney for you- we need you to come to St Mary's right now."

Much of what happened after that was a big blur; I called everyone I could on the 60-mile drive to the hospital to let them know what was happening, leaving a few bomb-shell voice mails. I tried to breathe deeply and to not let myself get hysterical or panic, which were both things I was dangerously close to doing. I felt like I was in a dream, and had a very difficult time wrapping my brain around what was actually going on. Jake, my long-time boyfriend, was silent in the car as he drove, occasionally squeezing my hand- he had seen me go through 5 years of peritoneal dialysis up to this point, along with every gritty, nasty detail that included drug reactions, Emergency Room stays, and the constant reality of living with a chronic disease. Needless to say, we were both terrified.

I will never forget walking into the hospital and going up to the floor where I would be prepped for surgery. I used the bathroom out of sheer nervousness, and took a few minutes to talk my reflection out of a panic attack. It's interesting to me how things in our lives can happen so fast- I had an idea about who I thought I was to this point, and it was hard to imagine adding 'kidney transplant recipient' to my personal description list. Events occur all the time that force us to re-invent our ideas of ourselves; it challenges us, I think, because we are creatures of habit, and change is scary.

I was very scared up until the second they put me out completely with the anesthesia. Things got even more blurry after that, as I recovered on extremely high doses of pain medications. Like in a dream, bits and pieces of things float back to me now, but the 10 days I spent in St Mary's after my transplant continue to grow fuzzier still with time. Certain things I will never forget, like the smell of saline or of the plastic IV tubing. Occasional, even nearing 9 months after my surgery, I will catch a whiff of something as I am having blood drawn, and it will put me right back in that hospital bed. 

I fought to be released home, as hard as I could. A hospital is no place for a person to heal- I knew I had to get home to get better, but massive surgery like a transplant often leaves the patient exhausted and in a great deal of pain, and I was no exception to these, but I was determined to walk out of St Mary's the same way I had walked in: On my own 2 feet, with my own power. On my arrival home, I couldn't help but notice that during my stay in the hospital, it had become Fall. The leaves were brilliant fall colors, the air was crisp and clean, and the sky was a stunning clear blue. I became full of gratitude and joy, for being alive, for having an opportunity to get a second chance at my life, for that gorgeous afternoon as my mom and I flew down I-96 towards Lansing.

I suppose I could call the rest history. If I look back on November, Christmas-time, the New Year, the Spring, and today so far, my recovery seems like a slippery, rocky slope. The top plateaus in Optimal Health, the bottom signifies the throes of my worst days after I came home. Many people who do not understand what it requires to have a transplanted organ taken from another person's dead body and grafted into your own believe that it is some type of magical fix- somehow, all your problems and health troubles will just disappear. This could not be further from the truth. I continue to climb upwards from the bottom of this slippery recovery slope, many times needing to cling to the barest scraps of hope and light, always looking upward, always moving forward. One of the most important lessons I have learned from the past 6 years of my life is that I cannot dwell on the past. I absolutely must live in the present, and continue to move towards health, towards, joyfulness, towards Life.

                

Comments

[Nancy Murrell]

Just found you and linked your blog on my site. Continued good health to you. I donated a kidney last year and I know that I had the easier surgery of the two!

Get well and enjoy being dialysis-free.