Seven years and counting

Seven short years ago this week I was wondering if I was going to make it to Spring Break before I would have to stop working.  I would come into school about 8:45 and leave by 2pm, with a short rest during lunch.  I was barely eating a cup of soup for lunch and couldn't hold out to fix dinner when I came home.  To walk from my car to my office inside the school was less than a football field, but I'd have to stop twice to get there.  Once I got home, I'd lay down on the couch and watch Paula Deen, dreaming of the wonderful dishes she was making as I fell asleep for a couple of hours.  I'd be in bed for the night by 9pm. 

My parents and brother and wife would come to help me with groceries, laundry, housecleaning, and anything else that needed to be done.  Friends would offer to help in any way.  I was making frequent doctor visits and monitoring blood pressure and chemistry, often giving 12-18 vials of blood at the visits. 

And during these last few days I lost a cousin to cancer and saw the death of a co-workers daughter to domestic violence.  Attending those funerals was like preparing for my own.  I'd already typed up information for my funeral and what I wanted done with my personal items.  I prepared...I still do.  I had a phone tree to contact people and thought I'd had plenty of arrangements to get to the hospital if the call came.

I'd just arrived at school, the day before the State Writing test, when my phone rang in my office...it was the transplant clinic telling me they thought they had a match.  They didn't want to make a big deal at the clinic since others were there but they needed me to come in and give even more blood so they could verify the chemistry match as other transplant teams made arrangements to come to OKC.

But, those carefully made plans were up in the air.  My dearest friends at school were in class and couldn't leave, my principal was out of town and one assistant was at an administrative meeting, so another friend had to stay and run the school.  My counseling friends were involved with kids and parents and couldn't just up and leave.  My parents are an hour away.  My sister in law was on her way to Arkansas.  And my brother was tied up at work...but he was able to bail and meet me at my duplex and drive me to the hospital.

It was a very, very long day of waiting after I got there.  They took me up to Cardiac ICU around noon and began hooking me up to monitors, etc. in preparation, although they felt sure it would be late afternoon or early evening before anything would happen.  Family began to arrive, followed soon by friends and co-workers.  And we continued to wait.

Now, it was going to be after 8pm at the earliest.  Anyone and everyone was allowed to come back because once the transplant happend, severe restrictions on visitors would be implemented.  And we waited.  And waited.  And waited.

Finally, about 10 pm we were told that due to weather (major thunderstorms in February in Oklahoma can turn into anything) it would probably be early morning.  They were going to Lifeflight the team to OKC when all the other transplant teams (who were having trouble getting into OKC) arrived.  They had tested and felt that this heart was going to be the one.

But, shortly after midnight a major thunderstorm came over Tulsa and Lifeflight couldn't take off.  I was supposed to be sleeping but all I could think of was this might be my last night on earth.  I'd made my peace with the world and with God long before, but it was still a strange feeling.  Finally about 3am the nurse told me that the team had taken off in an ambulance to recover the donor heart and I begin to finally believe it was going to happen.

In the meantime, my father and uncle had found old family friends in the waiting room as well and were having a great time visiting with them.  Later, one of these individuals would be the one who reviewed all my biopsy tests and determined rejections issues for me.

My friends from school took a day off and were there early morning, along with my family.  My principal, who made it back into town and stopped by the hospital before he went home, came back by before heading to work and making sure the writing test was set to go, which was going to be ran by my counseling buddies.  Ministers from my church and others began to drop by.

Suddenly, things were ready to roll.  Nurses began to scramble, voices begin to hush, hands began to be held.  Then, that wonderful medication was injected and I began to struggle to make sense.  I do remember the ICU nurses and the surgical nurse getting into it on where my family and friends were to wait, all the while leaving me on the gurney thinking, "I don't care where THEY wait, get me down for this transplant"!

As they finally settled that, I attempted to wave to my family as I was rolled down the hallway toward surgery.  I never remember getting to the OR.  I've been told that as the ambulance got within 3 miles they called the operation room.  By this time I was split open and about ready to go on bypass.  From the time they rolled me down until they called my parents and told them things were fine....less than 2 hours....actually closer to 90 minutes.

I don't remember waking up until the next day, but my parents said I opened my eyes and the blue was finally back...in fact, that is what my father said to pass along to everyone when people called to ask how things progressed.

That was Wednesday.  By Friday I was sitting up in a chair.  By Sunday night I walked out in ICU for a short time.  By Tuesday of the next week, I was walking hallways and talking at the same time...a trick I hadn't been able to do in months.

And who do I owe the happy ending too?  My donor, Tiffani, her family, my God, and the many prayers that were lifted for me from a great many people...some I knew personally and some I've never met.  It could have been so much different, and in may cases it is.  I know I've been blessed.

If you've never thought of being a donor before, please do so.  Be sure and tell your family of your desire.  You never know what may happen, and you never know when you might be the one needing the transplant.  I never thought I'd be in the position I was, and I know I can't thank Tiffani's family and Tiffani herself for the blessing they've given me.  I've been given extra time, and I am grateful.  I have no idea for how long...transplant patients typically have an additional 10-20 years of life...but I want to use this time to help others.  I hope I am.