It’s been a week since the kidney transplant and I am absolutely thrilled to let everyone know that the transplant went, and continues to go, amazingly well for both Brian and me.
He looks terrific and I’m getting there (although he’d probably reverse that statement!).
We’re both back at our respective homes (me – the next day – if you can believe that…and him after only 3 days), and we’re both getting up and around and eating and sleeping well…and healing day by day.
The time we spent in the hospital is all kind of a blur for me. From the moment we got to the hospital (with side by side pre-op rooms where we all ran back and forth visiting one another) to waking up later that day to be told that Brian was already in the ICU, looking and sounding great, with a fully functioning kidney (going gangbusters from what they told me). I must admit, I really didn’t comprehend where I was or what had actually happened earlier that day (a testament to the quality of drugs that they were giving me) until hours into the night, although others told me that I was sitting up carrying on conversations with visitors not long after they brought me to my room.
The next day I had only one thing on my mind from the moment I woke up. I wanted (no – NEEDED) to see Brian. It was kind of a mission for me. I HAD to see him with my own eyes.
And everyone involved worked to make that happen.
The nurses got me all unhooked from my various IV’s and tubes. Matthew made sure I was comfortable and looked presentable. Disa (Brian’s Sister) placed a bejeweled tiara on my head (because she knows I love jewelry) and several of our friends and family (thank you all more than we could ever express!) surrounded me in their “Team Carrillo” T Shirts, as we strolled (me in a wheelchair) through the halls to see Brian.
Then I saw him…sitting in his bed…looking INCREDIBLE.
His eyes were white (I never realized how dull and grey they had gotten) and his coloring was dark and rich again.
When I rolled next to his bed his smile could have lit up the entire room. We held hands. We checked out each other’s conditions. We couldn’t believe our eyes. I was fine. He was fine.
WE DID IT!
It felt like everything around us stopped. Everything we had talked about for so long…everything we had been working toward for the last few months…the idea of Brian finally getting a kidney so that he could feel good again…was here…and now.
It was…UNIMAGINABLE.
Words can simply not express the emotion that came flooding into both of us. And, I think, those around us.
But the thing that amazes me today as I sit here and write this post…is that we really live in a time and place where they could put me under, cut me open, take out my kidney, cut him open, put it in his body, hook it up…and it make it work!
I mean – OMG! Can you believe that they can do that!?!
Don’t get me wrong…everyone explained to me what would happen beforehand. I signed on the dotted line. I logically and rationally understood that this is what we were working toward, but I’m not sure I really fully comprehended that it meant a living part of me was going to be living inside of him, doing what it should be doing.
I mean – OMG!
How do you get a handle on that!?!
It is f—king amazing!
So, I think it’s important to stop and take a moment to thank all of the doctors and nurses and researchers and technicians who have EVER worked on any part of making kidney transplants possible. You all have done a hell of a job!
You’re all f—king amazing!
And to everyone out there who sent their warm wishes and positive thoughts/prayers our way during this entire process…we both thank you from the bottom of our hearts. It has meant more than you’ll ever know.
Now…my job is done, and Brian’s work is just beginning. He has a long road ahead of him of getting back into shape while managing all of the medicines that will keep him thriving. But ya know…I have no doubt that he’s going to do it with as much gusto as he can muster.
After all, amazing as it seems, he’s got my kidney to help him do it!
We did it.
I know that I didn’t actually have to get a kidney removed or get one put in, but I still feel like it was all of us who got through the surgery.
And let’s face it: my parents got to sleep through the whole thing.
The surgery was quicker than I thought it would be, and the waiting wasn’t too terrible. A group of us sat in the hospital doing various art projects (because that’s apparently what we do in these situations… or when a four-year-old is waiting with you) and having fun. We all (almost) had on our Team Carrillo shirts so we sort of looked like some sort of bowling team while walking around, but it was nice to feel (and look) like a group.
Another thing that helped was being able to share what was happening online.
Which leads me to the most important part of this post:
To all of you who followed along on Twitter and Facebook, and sent words of love and encouragement: THANK YOU. YOU are probably the biggest reason that I didn’t spend hours throwing up in the bathroom all day. YOU made me feel like the ground was still under my feet as we waited to hear that my parents were OK and that the kidney was good.
I had strangers reaching out to me on Twitter and telling me that they were rooting for us. I had a girl I’ve never met outside of the computer who messaged me on Facebook and said she was following #divorcedkidneys in New Jersey.
Of course I appreciate the friends who checked in, and the family who sent kind words, but knowing that someone across the country who you’ve never met is thinking about you, and thinking about your parents, is a pretty crazy feeling.
It was amazing.
Since my dad doesn’t have a blog (loser), I figure I’ll tell you all how he’s doing.
In a word: incredible.
It’s amazing what a new organ will do for someone. Like I said in my last post, I’ve never thought of my dad as a “sick person”, so it’s kind of shocking to see the difference that a working kidney has already made. I don’t think any of us expected it would be such a drastic change, let alone so quickly.
Of course he needs to rest and recover from the surgery, but overall he’s doing extremely well.
My mom is in more pain because I think her body kind of misses her kidney. I feel bad for her so I’ve been trying to make her feel better by making her laugh because LAUGHTER IS THE BEST MEDICINE…
(In fact, I think this is the reason my dad is doing so well.)
But I guess laughter isn’t the best medicine when you’ve just had your stomach cut open to remove a vital organ.
So Mom didn’t really appreciate it when I told her that she should stop being lazy and help me off of the couch when I need to go to the bathroom. Or when she was painfully trying to sit up on some pillows and I yelled “PILLOW FIGHT” and then went to hit her with one.
(Don’t worry: I wasn’t actually going to throw it at her.)
It’s like she totally doesn’t realize that I’m trying to help.
(PS: A few days following his surgery I asked my dad if he had named his new kidney (because I have this thing about naming inanimate objects). Without missing a beat he said, “Rebecca the Little Pisser”, because he’s awesome. So three cheers for Rebecca, yes?)
(PPS: I called my dad and asked if he’d like to say anything to the people reading our blog. He said, “Thank you to everyone who called or sent messages or supported us,” which is really sappy for my dad. I think my mom’s girl kidney is totally having an effect. I’m just hoping he wants to take me shoe shopping soon.)
(PPPS: Next week we’re going to write about something that has nothing to do with vital organs. Promise.)
- << next topic
- Kidney A-Go-Go: The Results
- previous topic >>