Had things gone as I planned,
I would be celebrating my one year kidney birthday. But plans change and on the 20th
of June 2011 mine changed in a big way.
The weekend prior to my transplant I had begun the dialysis
countdown. For those of you unfamiliar with this, think of countdown to the
last day of school, except instead of looking forward to summer vacation, I was
looking forward to the rest of my life dialysis free. I was being extra careful connecting my
treatment bags, even going so far as to scrap a set-up on more than one occasion
just to make sure I wasn’t contaminated.
I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of this transplant.
My bags were packed, I’d bought all the anti-rejection meds,
and I was already dreading my bowel prep (if you’ll remember I had a practice
round when the transplant was re-scheduled in May). The Saturday before transplant I began getting lower right quadrant pain and was
unable to find any comfortable position.
I passed it off as nerves – I mean a transplant is a big deal – maybe with
that comes big-ol butterflies that aren’t just stationed in the tummy. My plan was to ignore, ignore, ignore – this transplant
would happen! Sunday came and I
pretended the pain was better, but the small little hypochondriac within me was
whispering all sorts of ill-fated diagnoses.
When I started running a fever I chalked it up to ummm… excitement, sure
- big butterflies and
hyper-excitability. But if any of you
have ever suffered from hypochondria you know its whiny and persistent as a fat
kid on a diet.
I finally dialed my docs on call & gave them my
assessment of my condition – sans the butterfly diagnoses. As I’d
feared, they wanted to see me in the office.
Had the pain been more tolerable I probably would have called and
cancelled the appointment the next day, but
later on Monday, June 20th 2011 I consulted with my
transplant surgeon. My WBC’s were
scarily high, indicating an unknown infection and all tests were
inconclusive. It was at that point all
hope of having my transplant the following day went out the window. The disappointment was brutal, kind of like
ordering steak and getting the tofu burger or no prize at the bottom of the
cereal box – totally disappointing.
The events that followed led to the longest summer of my
life.
I had exploratory surgery, which resulted in the removal of
my remaining transplanted kidney, my peritoneal catheter and my appendix (A
real bargain really, 3 surgeries for the price of one anesthetic). I woke up several hours after surgery minus a
few organs, not at all the transplant scenario I had been planning.
My hospital recovery went smoothly and I dazzled doctors and
staff alike with my aptitude for hallway laps and the breezy-bum shuffle.
Unfortunately once home my progress subsided. One week post-op I went to my surgeon and he
confirmed my suspicions – my incision was infected.
This is where things get a little messy and not for the
faint of heart – Infection is bad, but I was sincerely hoping for a script for
kick-butt antibiotics, an encouraging word, and a suggestion to eat lots of ice
cream – a girl can dream can’t she? By
the end of the visit I would have settled for even just a
kick-in-the-butt. Ouch, doesn’t even
begin to describe the events of that clinic visit. Taking his gloved finger, my surgeon ‘unzipped’
my incision manually and without any anesthetics, pain relievers or ice
cream! He instructed me on wound care, I tried to
regroup and regain my composure and I left the office. I returned a week later with cautious
optimism, for all reports from my wound care provider were positive. This visit proved to be far worse than the
first – some healing had taken place, but not in the manner pleasing to my
surgeon. It’s a little complicated to
describe, but wounds have to heal from the bottom up, rather than the top down,
otherwise, unwanted bacteria or void spaces an occur underthe healed tissue –
apparently it can cause many many adverse issues, including muscle necrosis –bad
news bears! My tissue had begun to heal
on top, not the bottom. So, again with
the finger and then the hand – by the time he was satisfied that none of my
muscle was involved , his hand was petting my pancreas – okay, not really, but
his hand was in my open incison tugging on my innards – and I was
non-anesthetized and totally FREAKED-OUT!
I’ve had a few procedures since and I always remind myself when I get
nervous – nothing can be worse than having a hand inside my stomach – I sure
hope I’m never proved wrong!
The following weeks proved less traumatic, but
frustrating. I required 2-4 dressing
changes a day and later toted around a wound vac for several more weeks.
In July, during one of my tri-weekly hemodialysis therapies
I began to feel an odd sensation in my chest, events get blurry for the next
few minutes, but I’m told I called for a nurse, stopped breathing and then
required defibrillation. I required
further defibrillation upon my arrival to the ER and was told in no uncertain
terms by my ER doc that I’d had a heart attack.
Following a heart catheterization this diagnosis was scrapped and after
several days in the ICU the conclusion was reached that my electrolytes were
severely unbalanced.
I can categorically tell you that none of the above events
were plugged into my ‘To Do’ list. And
while I’ve learned a lot from my entirely-too-long summer, I wouldn’t wish to
go back, ever!
So where am I going with all this? I haven’t rehashed last year’s events just
for the sake of boring anyone that reads this to tears. Actually, I’ve been doing a lot of
self-reflection today. Its easy to get
lulled into a false sense of security when things are going smoothly. But life’s events, along with my most recent
upheaval have reminded me of a few things.
I hope you’ll bear with my ponderings.
·
Life might be like a box of chocolates, but even
those horrid jelly-fruit filled ones have a little something sweet about them –
ie. – Life is a gift, even in the midst of sticky situations God has gifted us
with life, how we live it and how we respond to the good, the bad and the
jelly-fruit filling are all up to us. I
haven’t always had the best response to my situations. Following my death-defying act in July I had
awful night terrors and struggled with my feelings towards life and God. I didn’t know how to pray. It was during that time of tumult that God
used the prayers of others and the persistent encouragement (not always
appreciated, but persistent) of my family to shower me with love. God never left my side and even in my disappointment,
fatigue and pain, He continued to remind me of His faithfulness to me. It is in the darkness that his light truly
shines the brightest, and eventually, my physical body healed as well as my
spiritual.
·
Life isn’t just about the journey, it’s about
the pitstops along the way – I think so often we become so very fixated on one
thing in our lives. The worries or plans
for our future, or even become bogged down my the mire of past regrets. In doing this we lose out on the
present. I once heard a preacher say
that the one gift God has gifted each
one of us with equally is time. Its
true, my 24 hours is no less or greater than yours, but how I use it now that’s
what sets us apart. I often get caught
up in the whens….. when I get transplanted I’ll… when I have more energy I’ll…… when I’m a
super model I’ll… oops, ahem, I digress --- but what about right now? The quality of my life may improve if and
when I receive a transplant, but what if that doesn’t happen, what if
does? How I live my life right now and
the present are all I am promised and after last summer it is increasingly clear
that there are no guarantees. I am
making it my ambition to live now as best I can and to God’s pleasure and
glory. If I have the blessing of another
kidney, I will do my best to live with gratitude and to His glory still. I guess what I’m trying to say is that for
me, living a God-pleasing life shouldn’t be influenced by my circumstances –
the secret to un-wavering contentment is revealed in Philippians 13 – its letting
God take the reins and trusting in the truth of Romans 8:28.
·
Romans
8:28
And we know that in all things God works for
the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
·
Philippians
4:11-13
I
have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 12 I know what it is to
be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of
being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether
living in plenty or in want. 13 I can do all this through him who gives me
strength.
·
Finally, and this one’s probably the lesson I
continually have to be reminded of… My best-laid plans…. pale in comparison to
the plans God has for me. (Jeremiah 29:11
·
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares
the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and
a future.) This one is fairly
self-explanatory and scripture aside, perhaps Carrie Underwood says it best – ‘
Jesus take the wheel’. So if its
absolutely necessary to plan, plan to be amazed by how God works, our wildest
imaginings can’t prepare us for how He’ll work things out.
I wasn’t able to celebrate the one year anniversary of a transplant
today (and I’m still waiting for someone to recommend an all-i-can-eat ice
cream diet), but I am thanking God for how He uses life’s disappointments,
obstacles and unexpected events to refine me, bless me with friendships and
remind me of His steadfast love and never-changing faithfulness. May He surprise and dazzle you with His
awesomeness!
God Bless,
~V
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| My life's journey has it's own road map :) Scars are proof that wounds do heal! |
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