Tis' the Season

I love the Seasons. It's a huge part of why I love living in the MD/VA area. In order of preference for me - Fall, Spring, Winter then Summer (I hate heat - sweating while doing nothing does NOT appeal to me.). When Fall comes, I sometimes wish it could go on forever. When Summer is here, I feel that I could be done with it almost immediately. But the fact is, even though I wish my favorite seasons were longer and my less favorites shorter, I wouldn't want to completely rid myself of any of them.

This is also true with the Christmas Season, which brings wonderful things as well as some not so great. We all have our Christmas Season loves and hates - things that are joyful (family, food, lights, traditions, etc.) and things that bring stress (um family, shopping, travel, traffic, etc.). Today in our MOPS meeting, we were discussing this Christmas season. Stories filled the room. Great memories of Christmas traditions, neat ideas for things to do with the kids and advice from more seasoned moms about how to navigate some of the more stressful holiday situations. During one of the discussions, our Pastor's wife said something that struck me...

"This is a season, enjoy it and let it go." She wasn't talking about Christmas, she was talking about life.

Enjoying certain seasons can be difficult. I'm ready for certain seasons to end once they begin (like Summer). But letting go is difficult too. Even though Summer isn't my fave, I don't like letting go of certain things that come with Summer...like going to the pool, wearing flip flops, thunderstorms, and long days (I'm missing those right now).

And I LOVE Fall, but even Fall has it's challenges, like my allergies and shorter days. And try as I might to hold onto Fall and those beautiful colors, the leaves turn and end up on the ground all the same.

It's sometimes hard to remember to enjoy the current season we're in. To embrace it. To make the most of it. For example, as a mom, I have times where I think to myself, "Boy, I can't wait til Jackson is done with _____", or "Things will be easier when Jackson is older and can ___."

Yet, as much as it is difficult to enjoy the current season, it's sometimes even more difficult to let go. One day, Jackson will be all grown up and I'll REALLY not want to let go. I'm sure to be nostalgic about the times when he did depend on his momma more. But this new season of life will be here all the same, and I'll need to embrace it.

A friend of mine gave me some really good advice recently when we were discussing past seasons of life and I was wishing to get back to how I felt during one of them. She told me something a friend had told her once, "You'll never succeed if you measure your progress in terms of how far backwards you can go." How true. On a somewhat similar topic, C.S. Lewis wrote in Mere Christianity, "It is simply no good trying to keep any thrill. Let the thrill go - let it die away - go through that period of death into the quieter interest and happiness that follows - and you will find you are living in a world of new thrills all the time.

So whatever season you are entering, exiting, or in the midst of I hope you can embrace it and enjoy it...and then let it go.

Ode to Alpha Kidney - A Donors Story Part 3

Read Part 1 of the Story

Read Part 2 of the Story

WAKE UP!

The next thing I knew I was in the recovery room. The first memory I have was trying, in a complete daze, to rub my eyes and turn over on my side, which they wouldn't let me do. Then I don't know how much time passed before my next memory. I remember then talking to a male nurse that was taking care of me.

After a little bit, Aaron was in the same recovery area on the other side of the room. When he was more awake, we gave each other a thumbs up.

Shortly thereafter I was out of the recovery area and on my way to a normal hospital room, where I saw my parents, received a visit from my best friend Kristine, had some calls from my friend Sonja (I think Sonja said later that I seemed a little "high" to her...maybe she can contribute that story in the comments) and my then boyfriend and now husband David, who was fishing in Montana and unable to be there.

I didn't feel really bad at all. I had tubes everywhere, but even that didn't freak me out as much as I thought...maybe that was due to the drugs. Anyway, I just remember being pretty tired and eventually, a little nauseous. They gave me some "miracle" drug (or at least that's how it felt at the time) called Phenergan that took that away but made me even more tired. I conked out.

JELLO AND CHICKEN BROTH SUCK!

As surgeries go, I have very few complaints. In fact, most of my complaints are not related to the pain of surgery at all, but the miscommunication of nurses and doctors related to feeding me solid foods instead of Jello and broth. The thought of Jello and broth still makes me mad as I write this!

The nurses kept telling me I had to "move things" (if you know what I mean) before getting to eat. In my head I'm thinking, "I would, but there's nothing there because you people made me drink that stuff last night!!" (TMI...well, deal!) I was hungry.

The surgeons came in to check on me and I told them of my plight and asked if I was allowed to eat regular food (by the way, I had been told by my Dad that Aaron had been eating full meals the entire time). The surgeons said I could absolutely have "real" food. Thank goodness! My next meal should be substantive...

....Next meal - JELLO AND CHICKEN BROTH...

....And the next - JELLO AND CHICKEN BROTH...

...ANGER BOILING!!...

...Next meal - JELLO AND...drum roll please...CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP

Ok, this is a cruel joke now. A couple noodles and pieces of chicken SOOO don't count! Give me a sandwich before I go postal on all y'all!

...Next meal (the one right before I was allowed to leave the hospital) -

JELLO AND CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP

"That's it! This is ridiculous!"

At this point I was angry and frustrated almost to the point of tears. Since I couldn't really walk that easily, my mother went out in the hall and managed to stop the lady handing out the food and commandeered me a sandwich. About a half hour later, things "moved". Imagine that!

GET BACK HERE WITH MY DRUGS RIGHT NOW!

I think it was Friday afternoon after the surgery that a nurse came in and wanted me to try to get up and walk a bit. They put a novacaine patch on my abdomen to possibly help with any pain and started to help me out of bed. It was NO FUN! It was pretty painful and I got pretty nauseated. So I sat on the chair beside the hospital bed and told the nurse I needed some of that magical drug Phenergan ASAP.

The idea of vomiting after you've had any type of abdominal surgery (or coughing, sneezing, or even laughing) is the worst. So there I sat on the chair thinking, "I am not going to throw up...the nurse will be back any second...I am not going to throw up...hang in there...hang in there..."

A minute or more passed and I was still feeling awful and in need of some drugs for nausea. I actually can't believe I managed to hold it in. But the nurse had not yet shown herself. "Crap, I don't even have a bucket...this is horrible," I thought.

My parents were with Aaron in his room, so I just had to call out in a feeble voice, "help...someone...help!"

Finally, minutes later a DIFFERENT nurse came in. Guess the other went on her lunch break. I got my Phenergan and was helped back in bed. Crisis adverted - barely.

Just so you know, later on that evening I walked - hunched over at about a 90 degree angle - but I walked. The next morning I walked all the way to Aaron's room and around the halls.

KICKED OUT

Gladly, I left the hospital the Saturday afternoon following surgery. Guess all that walking convinced them I could handle the "real world" now. I did think it was amazing how early they kick you out! Surgery on Thursday, out on Saturday. I was in the hospital longer after a normal, no complications childbirth!

I immediately got a sub from Jimmy John's which was right beside the hotel where I stayed with my parents that night. The next day my dad drove me home to Salem, VA where I planned to stay until I was cleared to return to work in Maryland.

Aaron got out of the hospital that Monday. We both were home.

I luckily didn't have much pain at all. And I wanted to do my best to get off the hard pain killers (in my case, percoset) as soon as I possibly could. After about a week, I was taking Tylenol only. Which reminds me...there are some restrictions after donation. My personal least favorite restriction is that you should not take any Motrin for the rest of your life. I mean, a few here and there is ok, but never on a regular pain regulation basis. So, Tylenol it is - and you ladies know that Motrin is way better when "your friend" visits. You also want to be sure you watch your risk for becoming diabetic, which would obviously be problematic. And, perhaps you may want to reconsider activities that could cause injury like rugby, jousting, cage fighting, etc.

Immediately after the surgery, there were a few only a couple restrictions - no driving and no lifting anything over 10lbs. Other than that, I didn't feel very different at all. Sure I had some discomfort, I still walked semi-hunched, and had less energy. But I was doing great. In fact, I was back at work in less than a month.

JOKES HURT!

I remember sitting here at home while recovering with Aaron and he began to joke that my kidney required more food - and more bathroom breaks. The joking along those lines continued to a point where both of us were laughing - HARD! It hurt to laugh, but we couldn't stop. We would laugh and say "ow" at the same time. I think I finally had to leave the room to collect myself enough to stop causing pain.

We still joke to this day. Some of my favorites are asking him to give it back...like, "Hey Aaron, some unload the car or give me back my kidney." It's good times.

THE BEST PART
I think the scariest part of donation for me was the idea that Aaron and I could go through with all this and it may not work. His body may reject it. Anti-rejection drugs have gotten much better, so the rejection rate is down to about 15%, but it happens. But somehow I knew everything would be ok. I mean, he was getting my super-mega awesome Alpha kidney!

It was better than ok. Aaron's creatinine levels (a measure of kidney function) were down to normal levels in the hospital (1.1), which was amazing. He also had much more energy, a renewed appetite, etc.

Aaron will take immuno-suppressant medications for the rest of his life which keep his body from rejecting the kidney. Because the drugs purposefully weaken his immune system, there were precautions right after surgery we had to take. For example, when people came to visit, we offered them hand sanitizer right away, and if they were sick at all, they were not allowed to visit. He couldn't go out in crowded areas yet either. In addition, right after the surgery he was having to take approximately 15 pills a day.

Now, he takes probably half that amount...and the limitations on his freedom are pretty much gone. There are precautions he still has to take, such as not swimming in lakes, staying away from sick people generally, never owning a bird, etc.

TODAY

It's been over 3 years now and things are still going very well for both of us. Aaron is married and working. I am married and have a beautiful baby boy (Quick note: I talked to my OBGYN before donating about donation and pregnancy/childbirth, since I wanted to consider the risk factors with the knowledge that I wanted to have children someday...she said there would be no reason not to donate. I have a healthy baby boy to show for it.)

The bad news is that Alpha kidney won't last forever for Aaron. A kidney transplant today lasts for about 10-12 years on average. However, living donor transplants tend to last longer. I've heard of some lasting 20 years or more. I pray that's the case here!!

DO IT!

For me, becoming a donor was a complete no brainer. I would do it again if I could. Are their risks? Sure! Do I have scars, absolutely (they did the surgery laproscopically, so I have about 5 small scars on my abdomen and one large one below the belt line similar to what someone would have after a C-section). Do I care...NOPE!

I want to encourage everyone to think about organ donation. If you are ever in the process of considering donation as a living donor to a family member or friend, feel free to talk to me. It's a decision you should make with much prayer and education. It's a decision only YOU can make. And make sure you check to be an organ donor in the event something did happen to you. Think of the lives you can affect!!

I want to end this series with a few stats on organ donation that hopefully will make you think.

1. 104,748 U.S. patients are currently waiting for an organ transplant; more than 4,000 new patients are added to the waiting list each month.
2. Every day, 18 people die while waiting for a transplant of a vital organ, such as a heart, liver, kidney, pancreas, lung or bone marrow.
3. Because of the lack of available donors in this country, 4,573 kidney patients, 1,506 liver patients, 371 heart patients and 234 lung patients died in 2008 (the same year I donated) while waiting for life-saving organ transplants.
4. Nearly 10 percent of the patients currently waiting for heart transplants are young people under 18 years of age.
5. Acceptable organ donors can range in age from newborn to 65 years or more. People who are 65 years of age or older may be acceptable donors, particularly of corneas, skin, bone and for total body donation.
6. An estimated 12,000 people who die each year meet the criteria for organ donation, but less than half of that number become actual organ donors.

Thanks for reading our story! To God be the Glory! Whoa, that rhymed...

Ode to Alpha Kidney - A Donors Story Part 2

Read Part 1 of the Story

AND SO IT BEGINS
I began my testing to see if I could be a live kidney donor for my brother Aaron. I had already done a blood type test and knew that we were the same in that regard. The rest of the testing continued off-and-on for a period of about 6 months. I'm going to outline what I remember in as much detail as possible about the testing process. Maybe it would help someone...

January 2008

Collect urine for 24 hours straight. Yep, it's not sexy, but you have to do it.

February 2008

Minor Testing. I can't remember/don't have a record of what this involved, other than a reference to it as "minor" which probably means it was a little blood work or something. (Though I can't believe I referred to blood anything as "minor").

March 2008

Lots of Tests and Meetings. I went to UVA to meet with a physician, a social worker, and a psychologist. That day I also had a lot of lab work done (*See following story*), had an EKG and an ultrasound of my kidneys.

*Ok, so this blood work was pretty major. They had to draw something like 14 vials. For someone who faints at the prick of a finger, I knew I was going to be a gonner. I told the nurse before she started that I needed to lay down during the procedure and that I would likely faint. I held out as long as I could, but started blacking out around vial 12. By 14, I was gone. Hey, but at least she finished. I woke up and EMS had arrived. Apparently, since the lab is a separate area and there are not doctors present, only lab techs, they have to call EMS. As I became more conscious, I told the EMS guy just to give me 5 minutes and I'd be fine - besides, I've been here and done this (fainting) MANY times in my life - more than I could count. He didn't seem to want to listen. I had to laugh when he took my blood pressure and said, "It's pretty low"! I know I shouldn't say this, (and I didn't at the time) but honestly the words "NO SH?T" came to mind first. "I JUST HAD 14 VIALS OF BLOOD TAKEN YOU IDIOT!" Then he asked me if I wanted to be taken to the emergency room. Again, snarky comments came to mind, "Seriously, so you can poke me with more needles that started this in the first place?!" I kept quiet and managed to simply say "no thank you" and explained this was common for me and that I'll walk away in 5 minutes like nothing ever happened. I was right. I left and went on to my next appointment, grabbing some juice on the way - or maybe it was a Dr. Pepper - anyway, it was good!*

July 9, 2008

CT Scan and Meeting. I cried like a baby when they were about to give me the IV (first IV ever) for the CT Scan, but I actually did okay. Never cried before, but turns out crying actually relieved a lot of the anxiety and kept me from passing out. The CT Scan was actually kinda cool....no pain involved with that at all. When they inject the dye, it feels pretty funny...warm all over, and quite frankly, makes you feel like you wet yourself...but wears off quickly.

After that test was over, I headed to the transplant clinic to meet with the surgeon. Their initial peak at the CT Scan looked good, and the surgeon, Dr. Sawyer, talked me through the surgery, risks, etc. I had to lay down because even talking about it made me a slight bit queezy, but again, I made it through fine (with some help and distraction from my best friend Kristine, who took some time off work to be with me). Dr. Sawyer explained that the risks associated with living with one kidney are not THAT much higher than living with two. However, as the he put it, "you certainly won't be healthier after the surgery than before." He also explained that if something ever happened to my remaining kidney, I would go to the top of the transplant list to receive a kidney since I was a living donor. Very ethical process I believe.

Because of the CT Scan, I also found out that I indeed had an Alpha and a Bravo kidney (a large and a regular size kidney). My left kidney was normal size but my right was quite noticeably larger, a couple/several inches in fact. This did lead to a debate among the surgeons over which kidney they would take. One surgeon said to leave me with the larger one. However, they also saw that my diaphragm was resting on the artery leading to my right kidney, compressing it. So another surgeon thought it best to take that one since they didn't know if that compression would lead to any issues later in life. To help decide, I would have to come back in for testing.

July 16, 2008

Split-Function Test and More Blood Work. This Split-Function test is basically done so that they can determine if both kidneys are working at similar levels (it should usually be about 50/50). The test was done at the Department of Nuclear Medicine at UVA. Basically they inject you (yep, another IV, but I did MUCH better with this one...no tears) with some sort of radioactive stuff (it doesn't hurt at all, and there are not any side-effects) and then you lay there for 30 minutes while they are taking pictures. The nurse turned on the classic rock music station while I was waiting so I was in pretty good spirits. I got to watch the monitor as the testing was going on - meaning I got to see Alpha and Bravo kidney in all their glory (well, a black and white fuzzy picture anyway)...Alpha was definitely larger.

I also had all my pre-op blood work done (10 tubes) and amazingly enough, I didn't get light headed or pass out! Looked like I was FINALLY getting better at this stuff...just in time too!

The Next Day

The test results were all in and everything looked "super great" according to the nurse. Each kidney's function was very normal - 47% left, 53% right - a fairly typical split. So, they decided to take the right one - ALPHA - due to the diaphragm compression factor. They would be correcting the compression before giving it to my brother.

They explained that initially, my kidney function would be cut in half (obviously), but that over time, the remaining kidney (BRAVO) should compensate up to about 80-90% of my original function.

The surgery that had been penciled in for July 24th was now officially a go!

Tuesday, July 24, 2008

GO TIME! My family all packed into the hotel room the night before the surgery. Aaron and I both had to drink some stuff to "clean us out" that night - fun times. I don't think I slept extremely well, but that was to be expected. Aaron and I were both nervous, but still in good spirits.

Early the morning of the 24th we headed to the hospital, got into the surgery prep room, and began getting ready. The anesthesiologist came to talk to us about what was going to happen, IV was put in - ugh, socks put on, etc. Before you knew it they were telling my mom and I that it was time. We both got teary eyed then. They took me in first. Aaron's room was right beside mine and as I wheeled past I made some joke and gave a thumbs up.

The operating room was so sterile looking...a good quality for an operating room I suppose...but I don't remember too much. Before I knew it, I was OUT!

Read Part 3 of the Story

Ode to Alpha Kidney - A Donors Story Part 1

For those of you who don't know, I only have one kidney. The other resides in my brother, Aaron. This is our story.

I Just Knew
My brother Aaron found years ago (after what turned out to be a rather providential bicycle accident) that his creatinine levels were really high. We discovered that he was born with smaller kidneys that couldn't keep up. So began the monitoring. Doctors mostly agreed that someday he would require a transplant.

I remember when my parents sat my brother Jason and me down to tell us of this possibility. They hoped, obviously, it wouldn't come to that, and they hoped we wouldn't have to think about being donors, but they wanted us to know just the same. I knew right then and there that it would be me.

No, seriously, I did. Partly because I knew how bad I was with needles, the idea of surgery, etc. (i.e. I pass out when they prick my finger for a cholesterol test!). The irony was just too convincing. But even beyond that, I just knew somehow...as if God was preparing me long long before the event so that I wouldn't be surprised.

Alpha & Bravo
One day my mom said something to me that she thought was "interesting". She told me I had an X-ray when I was about 1 month old which had showed that I had one "abnormally" large kidney...perhaps with 2 lobes or something. I had never known this. All this time a magical kidney!! Ok, not really - but it made me know all the more that it would be me that would donate.

I started joking about my 3rd kidney all the time. But I didn't have names for them until one night at Silver Diner with my then friend and now husband, David, his friend Mike, and one of my best friends, Sonja. I was explaining the larger kidney thing to them. Mike cracked us all up when he said, "So you have an Alpha and a Bravo kidney! Make sure they take Bravo and leave you with Alpha". From then on, my kidney's were referred to as Alpha and Bravo. Of course, I hadn't had an x-ray or any other procedure to determine whether I did, in fact, STILL have a larger kidney or if I had outgrown it over the years. I guess we'd find out if it came to that!

No Really, It's Me...Right?
Anyway, time passed and Aaron's creatinine levels continued to get worse. Finally he was at about 20% function when he was put on the transplant list and testing for donors began. My father had had heart surgery, so he couldn't donate. So my mom began testing.

My mom's donor testing went very well. SO well that one day I found myself driving down to UVA to be there for the transplant surgery. I wasn't going to make it in time to see mom and Aaron before the surgery, but I was going to be there with the family afterwards for several days. Then I got a call.

PAUSE - let me explain to you how crazy this was. Thirty seconds before the phone rang, I was literally talking out loud to God in the car saying something like, "Lord, this is so weird, I really thought it was going to be me." ........RING!

Sadly, my father explained that the surgery had been called off - the transplant was not going to happen. The doctor had somehow missed something on my mom's CT Scan which wasn't a problem for her physically, but could become one if she were to donate. They didn't want to take the chance. (FYI - Even WE could see the issue once it was pointed out...obviously someone dropped the ball and it was rather upsetting to the family. That being said, the UVA team is still AWESOME, fyi).

I felt especially bad for my mother who had been seconds away from anesthesia. At the same time, I couldn't help but laugh at my words just seconds before finding out...I KNEW it was me! Telling my family this story when I arrived to UVA seemed to be comforting to them in this time of disappointment.

Well, I really didn't KNOW for sure yet. Still much testing to be done!

Read Part 2 of the story

First Halloween

It's been years since I cared at all about Halloween. For some of us, once we are too old to "trick-or-treat" and we're relegated to handing out candy to the neighborhood (when we really just want to be vegging on the couch), Halloween is just not what it used to be. Sure, you have the occasional party with friends but then you have to go through the hassle of figuring out what you are going to wear. Anyway, not the same...and then I had a baby.

Jackson has made Halloween fun again. Seeing him all dressed up and remembering how fun it was when I was little (and how much he'll love it when he's a little older and can actually eat the candy) just made me love this holiday again. And now, I get to eat the candy, so win win!

I was home in Salem, VA for Halloween this year, which made Jackson's grandma and great grandma VERY happy. We went over to great grandma's (aka Nanu) to trick or treat in that neighborhood. Nanu wanted to show Jackson off to her neighbors and enjoy seeing the costume she bought for him months ago. Of course, he grew so much that while we thought the 9mo costume would still be ok, it was a tight fit. But we managed.

Just got his costume on, barely zipped, but he seems happy!

My shy lion with daddy.

I just like this picture for some reason :)

First house for trick-or-treat...the Overrackers next door to my grandmother. Jewel is so sweet and walked around the neighborhood with us afterwards.

Nanu gave Jackson a light to trick-or-treat with. He was quite amazed!

Seriously, do you get any cuter than this!

ROAR!

I already can't wait until next Halloween. Now we have Christmas to look forward to.