Surviving Liver Transplant
To tell the truth, I never thought it would happen. When my ex-mil called to tell me my ex-fil had liver cancer and was going on the transplant list, I never thought he'd actually get a liver.
He's not young. He's been struggling with high blood pressure, liver disease and various skin cancers for quite some time. He's had open heart surgery. He's a candidate for a liver transplant? Apparently, he is.
When I got the call yesterday morning that he had gone into surgery, I wasn't confident that he was going to survive the surgery. He did. I wasn't confident he would make it out of ICU, it looks like he's going to prove me wrong - he's breathing on his own, talking, taking in liquids without problem.
The man seems bound and determined to prove me wrong. How typical. And for once, it isn't driving me to want to throw things through the wall or stomp out of the house vowing never to return again. There isn't a more headstrong, stubborn, egotistical man in the whole world. He's driven me nuts for 25 years, why I ever doubted he'd get a liver is beyond me. I've stopped doubting and started hoping that he really is going to make it through this.
I went off to search liver transplant blogs after the most recent telephone update and there are some interesting and inspirational blogs out there.
Look at this, June is a Weird Month... I would have to agree.
Joy, terror, grief, loss of control, vivid recalls of heroic generosity and careless insensitivity, all-abiding love mingled with pain that shocks me with the way it seeps down into my bones. (I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint: my heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels. My strength is dried up like a potsherd; and my tongue cleaveth to my jaws; and thou hast brought me into the dust of death) It is probably too much to deal with except in those little violent flashes. So every June becomes double-track time, and it ALWAYS takes me by surprise. For some reason, I am always astonished and a bit ashamed when the house deteriorates, whenI start sleeping more and staying up at night more, and have to pause a second or two (struggling up through deep water) before I can say things that make sense.
Miss Poppy is shellshocked:
Then he sent me into mega shock when he said I have decided to refer you to a liver specialist at another hospital as it may be time we put you on the TRANSPLANT LIST!!!!!! WHAT????!!!!!
'It can't be true, it can't be true,' I cried. I admit I reacted badly, I saw this death sentance being passed, I turned to my friend and took hold of her hands, I couldn't look at my consultant. 'Tell me what this man is saying isn't true' I cried. 'How can you say that' I then said to my consultant, 'you have insisted there is nothing wrong with me, I have even been to see a neurologist because you have maintained my symptoms were not related to hep c!'.
And last month, someone died...
Well, yesterday, someone died. And, because they died and because they were an organ donor, my Aunt Bubba gets a second chance at life.
Here we are elated that Aunt Bubba is recovering after a 10-hour-transplant surgery - and there is some family -- somewhere that is grieving a death of a loved one.
But, I thank them. My entire family thanks them. We will forever be in your debt. You saved a wonderful woman. A woman I've loved my entire life. A woman who is truly a decent woman. I thank you.
Take a few minutes and read through those blog entries and take just a few more minutes to comment on those blogs. Those are good, strong people and I appreciate that they have taken the time to blog about their experience this way. It helps.
Daily Dose of Denise