Hi from the land of one kidney!
I'm still groggy, so this will be quick. But the surgery was successful. Me. Bean is out of me, in Howard, and is producing urine like there's no tomorrow. Yay!
Friday, June 12, 2015
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Liquid Diets & Pre Op
... just sayin', liquid diets suck.
The Pre Op appointment went better than the liquid diet. It was fairly straight forward -- they took blood one last time and left me with a souvenir armband. The blood was for some last testing, and the armback identifies my blood, in case I need a transfusion. I'm glad they are taking care of every last scenario, but it makes you remember the risk involved.
I met my surgeon, Dr. Pollinger. He was very friendly and answered all of my questions. He even gave me a big hug at the end and said thank you for doing this. That's the attitude I've had from everyone. Most of the time, you go to the doctor or get a surgery because you are sick. This is about the only time I can imagine that you are volunteering to put yourself into harm's way medically, to help someone else.
I also met with a nutritionist, the social worker, the pharmacist and the outpatient nurse that will be available to me during my recovery at home.
The strangest part was with the surgeon, when he asked me a question -- if something should happen and Howard can't accept the transplant on the operating table, do you still want to donate? Thank goodness my living donor, Nancy, had prepped me for this question! When Nancy mentioned it this morning, my jaw dropped. I can't imagine saying no at this point. I still think doing a blind donation would be strange, but I've gotten this far -- if something were to happen with Howard, someone is getting that damned kidney!
So here I am, appointments done. Nancy told me today would be a marathon, with my emotions going through every possible iteration. They have. Tonight I have chosen to just be alone and hibernate. I'll get what rest I can, and build up strength for tomorrow.
The Pre Op appointment went better than the liquid diet. It was fairly straight forward -- they took blood one last time and left me with a souvenir armband. The blood was for some last testing, and the armback identifies my blood, in case I need a transfusion. I'm glad they are taking care of every last scenario, but it makes you remember the risk involved.
I met my surgeon, Dr. Pollinger. He was very friendly and answered all of my questions. He even gave me a big hug at the end and said thank you for doing this. That's the attitude I've had from everyone. Most of the time, you go to the doctor or get a surgery because you are sick. This is about the only time I can imagine that you are volunteering to put yourself into harm's way medically, to help someone else.
I also met with a nutritionist, the social worker, the pharmacist and the outpatient nurse that will be available to me during my recovery at home.
The strangest part was with the surgeon, when he asked me a question -- if something should happen and Howard can't accept the transplant on the operating table, do you still want to donate? Thank goodness my living donor, Nancy, had prepped me for this question! When Nancy mentioned it this morning, my jaw dropped. I can't imagine saying no at this point. I still think doing a blind donation would be strange, but I've gotten this far -- if something were to happen with Howard, someone is getting that damned kidney!
So here I am, appointments done. Nancy told me today would be a marathon, with my emotions going through every possible iteration. They have. Tonight I have chosen to just be alone and hibernate. I'll get what rest I can, and build up strength for tomorrow.
Morning Before -- Random thoughts
Today is prep day. Liquid diet but avoiding dairy (what can I even eat? *sigh*). I'm going to have some oatmeal this morning, assuming the liquid diet is for 24 hours prior to surgery -- yay for 11am surgery times! After that, it's lots of water, some juice smoothies, broth and ice pops. It turns out the Otter pops I had as a kid are good for me! Whoo hoo!
I saw David and Howard last night, along with Dan's friend Devon. It wasn't the emotional mess I was expecting, but no question about it -- this experience has brought us closer together. I can't wait to visit Howard in his hospital room!
For my recovery, I am staying at our friends Anne-Caroline and Dick's house. She was so generous to offer her guest room. I know it's disappointing to my brother that we aren't staying with him, but my brother is going to be busy taking care of Howard and Howard may want the guest room on the main floor rather than the stairs. Dan and I will be very comfortable in AC's king-size bed, and it's very reassuring to be staying at Dick's, since he is a doctor at Piedmont.
I think the Piedmont transplant clinic staff were blown away by how connected we are here, considering that we live in Seattle. Dan is from Atlanta, and I lived here for so long that we both have very deep friendships and networks. It's a good place personally to have the surgery and start my way back to 100% health.
Our plan is to stay here for two weeks post-op, and then fly back to Seattle for two more weeks of recovery before I go back to work. I will be bored, but don't want to go back to work until I can give at least 80-90% of myself. I plan to walk as much as I can, which is the best thing I can do to take care of myself. Fortunately I don't blink at walking -- I'm the person who walks to/from vanpool (1.25 miles each way) and will walk to/from restaurants, grocery stores and any other errands I can. It's my normal form of exercise. And I have my secret weapon -- my friend Dana, who is recovering from foot surgery and also needs to walk. She walks even more than me and is good at pushing me (in a good way). I will be back before you know it.
I saw David and Howard last night, along with Dan's friend Devon. It wasn't the emotional mess I was expecting, but no question about it -- this experience has brought us closer together. I can't wait to visit Howard in his hospital room!
For my recovery, I am staying at our friends Anne-Caroline and Dick's house. She was so generous to offer her guest room. I know it's disappointing to my brother that we aren't staying with him, but my brother is going to be busy taking care of Howard and Howard may want the guest room on the main floor rather than the stairs. Dan and I will be very comfortable in AC's king-size bed, and it's very reassuring to be staying at Dick's, since he is a doctor at Piedmont.
I think the Piedmont transplant clinic staff were blown away by how connected we are here, considering that we live in Seattle. Dan is from Atlanta, and I lived here for so long that we both have very deep friendships and networks. It's a good place personally to have the surgery and start my way back to 100% health.
Our plan is to stay here for two weeks post-op, and then fly back to Seattle for two more weeks of recovery before I go back to work. I will be bored, but don't want to go back to work until I can give at least 80-90% of myself. I plan to walk as much as I can, which is the best thing I can do to take care of myself. Fortunately I don't blink at walking -- I'm the person who walks to/from vanpool (1.25 miles each way) and will walk to/from restaurants, grocery stores and any other errands I can. It's my normal form of exercise. And I have my secret weapon -- my friend Dana, who is recovering from foot surgery and also needs to walk. She walks even more than me and is good at pushing me (in a good way). I will be back before you know it.
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
Top Myths about Kidney Donation
This is not anything official, and I haven't researched any facts so take it at face value. This is just what I have learned from sharing my news with so many people these last two weeks.
1. "But don't you have to be blood relatives?"
Nope. Anyone can donate to anyone else, as long as the blood type and cross-match line up. If Howard and I are blood relatives, then mom was sleeping with someone other than dad!
2. "Will you need to be on medication the rest of your life?"
Being a kidney donor leads to very few restrictions for me. I won't have to take any special medications. I will need to take Tylenol, instead of Ibuprofen or Aspirin. The latter two -- NSAIDS (it's on the bottle even!) -- are hard on your kidneys. I tend to take Ibuprofen after a hard workout for sore muscles, but eliminating that is a very small thing compared to the good I'm doing.
3. "What foods won't you be able to eat?"
I will be able to eat anything I want, as long as I follow a healthy diet and exercise regularly. The biggest things I need to focus on are avoiding high blood pressure and diabetes, and -- if I get them -- get them treated. Some people recommend following a healthy kidney diet as a preventative measure, but it's not required.
4. "OMG, you won't ever be able to drink alcohol again!"
Thank goodness this is a myth! It's right there in my packet -- avoid drinking alcohol for the first 48 hours after surgery. 48 hours. 2 days. After that, my liver will do it's normal job processing alcohol, and my kidney will still have nothing to do with it. :-)
5. "Don't you need both kidneys?"
No, in fact some people are born with one kidney and still live perfectly normal lives. That "some people" could be you -- have you ever really had a doctor check the # of kidneys in your body? Our bodies are blessed with an abundance of kidney function. You only need 30% full function. So even going to 50% immediately post surgery, my body will be fine. And the remaining kidney strengthens, so I will get to 65-70% of function. I will still live a full life, even with one kidney.
6. "I could never do that."
I bet you could. If it was your child, or your husband/wife, you would find strength you didn't know you had.
7. "You're a hero."
This is a weird one for me. I tend to be self-deprecating, so I'm not about to stand up and yell "I'm a hero!" to the world. I'm not a hero, but if others want to see me as that, that's ok with me :-)
8. "You're saving Howard's life."
Another weird one for me. Technically Howard won't die if I don't give him a kidney. He can have dialysis and still live. But it would be a very unpleasant, hard life. My surgeon said that dialysis patients age faster than healthy humans -- 2 1/2 years to every one. That makes more sense to me. Dialysis is ugly and time consuming and depressing, and it is hard on the body. So technically I'm not saving Howard's life; I'm saving his quality of life and doing everything I can to ensure that I will have him here for longer.
Thank you to everyone I have spoken to or heard from in the last two weeks. I was very afraid of people's reactions, but I have no reason to be. Every single person has been so supportive and loving and caring, and I'm glad people are asking these questions. Your love has kept me focused and going so far, and will be incredibly important to me in the next few weeks when I'm cursing or getting depressed (a common side effect of the anesthesia) or wondering why I willingly put myself through surgery. I love you all so much!
1. "But don't you have to be blood relatives?"
Nope. Anyone can donate to anyone else, as long as the blood type and cross-match line up. If Howard and I are blood relatives, then mom was sleeping with someone other than dad!
2. "Will you need to be on medication the rest of your life?"
Being a kidney donor leads to very few restrictions for me. I won't have to take any special medications. I will need to take Tylenol, instead of Ibuprofen or Aspirin. The latter two -- NSAIDS (it's on the bottle even!) -- are hard on your kidneys. I tend to take Ibuprofen after a hard workout for sore muscles, but eliminating that is a very small thing compared to the good I'm doing.
3. "What foods won't you be able to eat?"
I will be able to eat anything I want, as long as I follow a healthy diet and exercise regularly. The biggest things I need to focus on are avoiding high blood pressure and diabetes, and -- if I get them -- get them treated. Some people recommend following a healthy kidney diet as a preventative measure, but it's not required.
4. "OMG, you won't ever be able to drink alcohol again!"
Thank goodness this is a myth! It's right there in my packet -- avoid drinking alcohol for the first 48 hours after surgery. 48 hours. 2 days. After that, my liver will do it's normal job processing alcohol, and my kidney will still have nothing to do with it. :-)
5. "Don't you need both kidneys?"
No, in fact some people are born with one kidney and still live perfectly normal lives. That "some people" could be you -- have you ever really had a doctor check the # of kidneys in your body? Our bodies are blessed with an abundance of kidney function. You only need 30% full function. So even going to 50% immediately post surgery, my body will be fine. And the remaining kidney strengthens, so I will get to 65-70% of function. I will still live a full life, even with one kidney.
6. "I could never do that."
I bet you could. If it was your child, or your husband/wife, you would find strength you didn't know you had.
7. "You're a hero."
This is a weird one for me. I tend to be self-deprecating, so I'm not about to stand up and yell "I'm a hero!" to the world. I'm not a hero, but if others want to see me as that, that's ok with me :-)
8. "You're saving Howard's life."
Another weird one for me. Technically Howard won't die if I don't give him a kidney. He can have dialysis and still live. But it would be a very unpleasant, hard life. My surgeon said that dialysis patients age faster than healthy humans -- 2 1/2 years to every one. That makes more sense to me. Dialysis is ugly and time consuming and depressing, and it is hard on the body. So technically I'm not saving Howard's life; I'm saving his quality of life and doing everything I can to ensure that I will have him here for longer.
Thank you to everyone I have spoken to or heard from in the last two weeks. I was very afraid of people's reactions, but I have no reason to be. Every single person has been so supportive and loving and caring, and I'm glad people are asking these questions. Your love has kept me focused and going so far, and will be incredibly important to me in the next few weeks when I'm cursing or getting depressed (a common side effect of the anesthesia) or wondering why I willingly put myself through surgery. I love you all so much!
Two days out: Heading to Atlanta
In two hours I leave for the airport, and in two days I donate a kidney to Howard.
Everyone has been asking me if I'm feeling scared. Until last night, the honest answer was no. I was a cauldron of emotions -- excited (with odds of 15%, it's like winning a lottery to get to be a donor), happy, a touch of nervous at the unknown, and mostly at peace. It sounds strange to say "at peace", but that's really the dominant feeling. I made my decision, and now I'm ready for it to happen. The last two weeks have been filled with paperwork (for leave), spirit-lifting conversations with friends and coworkers ("wow, that's incredible. you're a hero"), and running around trying to transition everything so I can take a quiet and uneventful 5 weeks off.
So that was until last night. Adrenalin took me through dinner and saying goodbye to neighbors. But when my head hit the pillow, it didn't sleep well. I can't even say that fears were running through my head (even though there are small risks, I am very confident and positive about the outcome). It just hit me, the enormity of what is to come. The easy part is over -- telling people. The hard part is about to start. I'm going to go from feeling 100% healthy to sick, and even though I know what others have gone through, my recovery will be unique. Will I be nauseous for a month? Will I lose weight (I have some to spare!) Will I be walking a mile by the end of the second week, or will I need a wheelchair at the airport when I fly home? I don't know yet, but I will very soon.
Today I fly to Atlanta and see David and Howard. It is going to be such an emotional reunion, filled with stakes that none of us could have imagined a few months ago.
I have learned so much about myself these past three weeks. I know how strong I am, and I know how positive I can be. I'm determined to fight through this and face anything head-on. Let's just get through the next three days, ok?
Everyone has been asking me if I'm feeling scared. Until last night, the honest answer was no. I was a cauldron of emotions -- excited (with odds of 15%, it's like winning a lottery to get to be a donor), happy, a touch of nervous at the unknown, and mostly at peace. It sounds strange to say "at peace", but that's really the dominant feeling. I made my decision, and now I'm ready for it to happen. The last two weeks have been filled with paperwork (for leave), spirit-lifting conversations with friends and coworkers ("wow, that's incredible. you're a hero"), and running around trying to transition everything so I can take a quiet and uneventful 5 weeks off.
So that was until last night. Adrenalin took me through dinner and saying goodbye to neighbors. But when my head hit the pillow, it didn't sleep well. I can't even say that fears were running through my head (even though there are small risks, I am very confident and positive about the outcome). It just hit me, the enormity of what is to come. The easy part is over -- telling people. The hard part is about to start. I'm going to go from feeling 100% healthy to sick, and even though I know what others have gone through, my recovery will be unique. Will I be nauseous for a month? Will I lose weight (I have some to spare!) Will I be walking a mile by the end of the second week, or will I need a wheelchair at the airport when I fly home? I don't know yet, but I will very soon.
Today I fly to Atlanta and see David and Howard. It is going to be such an emotional reunion, filled with stakes that none of us could have imagined a few months ago.
I have learned so much about myself these past three weeks. I know how strong I am, and I know how positive I can be. I'm determined to fight through this and face anything head-on. Let's just get through the next three days, ok?
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Five days out
This last week has been amazing, as people learn about what I'm doing. I knew people would be supportive, but I had no idea how much love people would surround me with. I've heard so many personal stories -- people who have considered donating, who have a relative who has struggled with renal disease, or who have a friend who is a living donor now thriving. Once again, I'm reminded what a gift going through this is to *me*.
To be honest, this afternoon I'm feeling a mix of emotions -- excited to be getting on with it (the waiting is the hardest part!); nervous (it's getting *real* now); a bit melancholy (the excitement of telling people is over). My leave is set -- I'm taking 5 weeks off in total -- and I am wrapping things up at work.
After two months of reading about other people's living donations and their recoveries, I'm just a few days away from seeing how my own personal tale will play out. Wow.
To be honest, this afternoon I'm feeling a mix of emotions -- excited to be getting on with it (the waiting is the hardest part!); nervous (it's getting *real* now); a bit melancholy (the excitement of telling people is over). My leave is set -- I'm taking 5 weeks off in total -- and I am wrapping things up at work.
After two months of reading about other people's living donations and their recoveries, I'm just a few days away from seeing how my own personal tale will play out. Wow.
Monday, June 1, 2015
Tests, tests and more tests
This morning I have my final test -- a retest of the crossmatch and bloodwork to ensure that I am still healthy and a double check that I'm a match with Howard.
When I started this process, I was very afraid of needles. I did not get my flu shot this year because it would involve being stuck.
By now, I'm so familiar with it that I'm using the lingo.
I still cringe when the needle is going in. But after being "stuck" 9 times in one day, you get over it. And some fears *should* be overcome.
Here are all the tests I've had done during the evaluation process:
- Blood type check
- Blood pressure checks
- Crossmatch (my blood & Howard's)
- Urine test
- Full blood analysis
- Glofil test (measures the kidney function, and requires you to drink Herculean amounts of water)
- Lower chest CT scan
- Chest Xray
- Upper chest CT scan
- 24 hour blood pressure monitoring
- one last blood analysis & crossmatch today!
When you start the evaluation process, they tell you that the testing could uncover something wrong with you. I vowed to myself that I would rather *know*, so I could deal with it.
The flipside of that is that finding out that you are in good health feels incredible. All that healthy living has really paid off. I'm at the age where things start breaking down, but so far, I have held that at bay. I may not be able to run as well as I used to (well, run/walk -- let's be honest here!). But I'm still healthy enough to donate a kidney!
When I started this process, I was very afraid of needles. I did not get my flu shot this year because it would involve being stuck.
By now, I'm so familiar with it that I'm using the lingo.
I still cringe when the needle is going in. But after being "stuck" 9 times in one day, you get over it. And some fears *should* be overcome.
Here are all the tests I've had done during the evaluation process:
- Blood type check
- Blood pressure checks
- Crossmatch (my blood & Howard's)
- Urine test
- Full blood analysis
- Glofil test (measures the kidney function, and requires you to drink Herculean amounts of water)
- Lower chest CT scan
- Chest Xray
- Upper chest CT scan
- 24 hour blood pressure monitoring
- one last blood analysis & crossmatch today!
When you start the evaluation process, they tell you that the testing could uncover something wrong with you. I vowed to myself that I would rather *know*, so I could deal with it.
The flipside of that is that finding out that you are in good health feels incredible. All that healthy living has really paid off. I'm at the age where things start breaking down, but so far, I have held that at bay. I may not be able to run as well as I used to (well, run/walk -- let's be honest here!). But I'm still healthy enough to donate a kidney!
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