Wednesday, August 3, 2011

The Girl Who Cried "Transplant"

There once was a girl who lived in a small town.  This town was pretty boring, and most days were pretty uneventful.  This girl had been dealing with health problems for the majority of her life, including some major circulation problems as a result of the radiation treatments she had as a child.  She tried and tried to have them resolved in a non-invasive way, to no avail. 

Her vascular surgeon suggested that she have a major operation to correct this issue.  She would have an artificial graft put into her abdomen that would bypass her damaged aorta.  This was done in December 2009.  Two days after her surgery, her surgeon informed her that her kidneys had shut down and she would need to start dialysis.  He assured her that this happened on occasion, and often times the problem would resolve itself after a couple of weeks of dialysis treatments.  When she began treatments on December 25, 2009, she also was informed that she had Hepatitis B, which she would find out later causes some other complications.

After being released from the hospital in Phoenix, she began dialysis treatments in Phoenix three times a week.  These treatments made her very sick.  She ended up in the hospital several times over the next year or so...often times to deal with extreme dehydration and high blood pressure.  She even had a couple of seizures as a result of the extreme blood pressure.  (Her highest was 190/120.)  She lost 50 pounds, (something she needed to do anyway, but not THAT way!) and was very weak.  She was given several priesthood blessings, including one from her bishop that promised her that she would be restored to health.

After about six months of treatments, her nephrologist asked her if she wanted to be worked up for a kidney transplant.  She decided to proceed with the testing at Mayo Clinic and was approved to be a transplant candidate in July 2010.  Her brother and sister both offered to donate a kidney to her, and it was decided (by means of "Rock, Paper, Scissors") that her sister Michelle would get worked up first.

Meanwhile, the girl had been taking anti-viral medications to get rid of the Hepatitis B virus.  The medicine made her very sick, and she doubted that it was working at all.  It took five months, but the virus was finally undetectable and she was good to go for transplant.

Michelle came to Mayo Clinic and went through all kinds of testing.  The girl stayed with her sister the entire time, and was so grateful that she was willing to go through this for her.  Her sister was approved as a match, and the transplant was scheduled for November 19, 2010.  The girl went in to Mayo for her pre-surgery testing, which included a CT scan of her kidneys, as she had had kidney cancer in 2008, and they wanted to make sure she was cancer-free.  While her kidneys were deemed cancer-free, they discovered that her aorta and bypass graft were once again blocked, and would need to be repaired before the transplant could occur.

The girl was devastated.  She felt she had gone through the entire last year of dialysis and being so sick for nothing.  The surgery that started this whole thing was a failure.  The vascular surgeon at Mayo agreed to do a stent procedure on November 18, so that the transplant could occur as planned on November 19.

The stent procedure was successful, and she was in ICU recovering and making necessary preparations for the next day's surgery when she woke up with severe pains in her right leg.  The surgeon came in around 3:00 a.m. and took one look at the bottom of her feet (which were black and blue) and said that she had what is called "trash foot."  It turns out that all of the crud that was blocking my aorta came loose when the stent was placed, and it sent all of it--the plaque, clots, and other materials--down my leg and to my feet.  They would need to do emergency surgery to "roto-rooter" the artery in her leg.  The surgeon also told her that the transplant could not take place.  She called her husband, cried so hard, and told him to tell her sister that everything was off. 

She ended up staying in the hospital for several days while they monitored her circulation for any other blood clots.  They told her that the transplant would need to be postponed for at least three months to give her arteries time to heal and grow stronger.  Meanwhile, she was given Coumadin and Plavix to thin her blood and avoid any dangerous clots.

In February, she saw the surgeon again and was cleared for transplant.  The transplant was rescheduled, and plane tickets were bought.  When she went in for her pre-surgery tests (again) she was told that they would do another Hepatitis B check, just to be sure.  When she was called and told that her levels were higher than they'd ever been, she was confused.  She was under the impression that once the virus was undetectable, she was good.  She didn't realize that she'd need to be on these meds for the rest of her life.  So, the transplant was postponed yet again.

March, April, May and June came and went.  Surgery dates scheduled, hopes were high, only to be dashed time and time again.  She was beginning to wonder what she had done wrong, why she was being punished, and what she could do better.  Fast Sunday in June was a special day.  Her whole family, and a lot of friends fasted for her and that the transplant could finally take place.  She felt completely at peace, and felt confident that the surgery would take place on June 14.  This was also her final chance for the transplant if she wanted to return to teaching in August.  She went for her pre-surgery testing AGAIN and was so confident that all would be well.  When she was called on June 11 and told that her level was still at 10,000, she was--once again--devastated.

The liver specialist increased her dose again, and she was tested on July 12.  This time her count was at 1,300...a huge improvement, but not where it needs to be.  (It needs to be at zero.)  She feels so silly, and doesn't even know how to respond to her sister when she calls to tell her the bad news.  She's just numb.

She will get tested again on August 12, and is so hopeful that things will be good.  If the count went from 10,000 to 1,300 in one month, surely it can go down to zero in another month.  But, as one of her nurses told her, "Well, it is YOU!"  Who knows.

She is sure people are tired of hearing that the date is so close.  She is sure people just don't even know what to say anymore.  She feels very much like the boy who cried wolf, just to get the attention of his small town. 

She goes through times in her life where she is fine.  She is grateful for the opportunity she has to go to dialysis, for she knows it keeps her alive.  She is so grateful for her sweet husband and amazing children who have stood by her and taken care of her through all of this.  She is grateful for all of her family who pray for her and love her.  She is able to keep going and keeps her chin up, even though things are tough.

She also goes through times where she gets down.  She wonders if the transplant is ever going to happen.  She can't stand sitting in the chair at dialysis for one more minute.  She counts down the minutes until she can go home.  She dreads the thought of going, smelling the bleach/vinegar smell, and the headache that will follow treatment. 

She is sure that there is a reason for all of this.  She just wishes she knew what it was.  Band camp started last week, and she is so sad that that part of her life is over.  Someday she will understand.

3 comments:

Bill Cobabe said...

I almost won that round of rock paper scissors, too...

I'm not sure if I shared this with you before or not, and if it's not too patronizing, I'll share it now... (it is the words of the prophet, after all...)

The daily newspaper screamed the headlines: “Plane Crash Kills 43. No Survivors of Mountain Tragedy,” and thousands of voices joined in a chorus: “Why did the Lord let this terrible thing happen?”

Two automobiles crashed when one went through a red light, and six people were killed. Why would God not prevent this?

Why should the young mother die of cancer and leave her eight children motherless? Why did not the Lord heal her?

A little child was drowned; another was run over. Why?

A man died one day suddenly of a coronary occlusion as he climbed a stairway. His body was found slumped on the floor. His wife cried out in agony, “Why? Why would the Lord do this to me? Could he not have considered my three little children who still need a father?”

A young man died in the mission field and people critically questioned: “Why did not the Lord protect this youth while he was doing proselyting work?”

I wish I could answer these questions with authority, but I cannot. I am sure that sometime we’ll understand and be reconciled. But for the present we must seek understanding as best we can in the gospel principles.

Was it the Lord who directed the plane into the mountain to snuff out the lives of its occupants, or were there mechanical faults or human errors?

Did our Father in heaven cause the collision of the cars that took six people into eternity, or was it the error of the driver who ignored safety rules?

Did God take the life of the young mother or prompt the child to toddle into the canal or guide the other child into the path of the oncoming car?

Did the Lord cause the man to suffer a heart attack? Was the death of the missionary untimely?

Answer, if you can. I cannot, for though I know God has a major role in our lives, I do not know how much he causes to happen and how much he merely permits. Whatever the answer to this question, there is another I feel sure about.
Could the Lord have prevented these tragedies? The answer is, Yes. The Lord is omnipotent, with all power to control our lives, save us pain, prevent all accidents, drive all planes and cars, feed us, protect us, save us from labor, effort, sickness, even from death, if he will. But he will not.

We should be able to understand this, because we can realize how unwise it would be for us to shield our children from all effort, from disappointments, temptations, sorrows, and suffering.

The basic gospel law is free agency and eternal development. To force us to be careful or righteous would be to nullify that fundamental law and make growth impossible.

- from Faith Preceeds the Miracle

I would also submit that we are refined through the things we experience. Not just you, but all of us who care for you and who suffer when you do. I know it's not the same, but it is still very real. And you know what? We're all better people because of it. We are more tolerant, kinder, more patient, more loving.

I know it sucks. There's nothing about it that's OK or that would make it OK. And I'm sorry.

I love you sis. I always have.

Cindy said...

I do know what to say: never forget your divinity, your strength, your capacity to love and be loved, the witness you are to your friends and family and students (yes, you still have students). Everything happens in divine order, even when it sucks. You haven't earned any sickness or trial - you thrive in spite of it. So many people love you, and that's all there is anyway. We behold the Christ in you.

brownymama said...

My heart breaks reading this. Please know that we think of and pray for you often. And that I admire your courage and strength! You amaze me.
Krista Brown