It seems that one day my body started catching on to the party that's been taking place inside my chest cavity for the last, almost 8, weeks.
It saw through the web of deceit that the anti-rejection meds have woven and has sounded some kind of annoying, screechy, high decibel alarm.
It's recognized my new chunkers as alien and has sent in the troops to attack and destroy.
I have stage 2 acute rejection.
Ummmm...white flag? Truce? Peace treaty?
Naaaaaaah - Let's bring in some heavily artillery in the form of omnipotent IV's.
Stupid body won't even know what hit it.
I got the call on Monday from my transplant coordinator. The broncosopy results showed the rejection. Course of action - 3 days of ninja-esq IV's.
I will admit that when I first heard the news I got a bit teary-eyed and a leeeetle bit scared. After I talked it out, burnt my brain out thinking about it, did some research (I research the hell out of everything) and slapped myself in the face 30 times...I remembered that rejection is very common. I remember the doc telling me that everyone will have some form of rejection.
I've been carrying around stage 1 acute rejection for awhile now, but stage 1 is so minor that they don't treat it. Stage 2 the battle begins.
So, let's do this shizzle!
(Come on, you all know that's a cool word.)
Linds and I went yesterday for the first round. Only 1/2 an hour per day. Easy peazy. Only set back was the first poke - it didn't take. I've been told that my veins are small and sneaky. Weird; I thought they were vibrant and helpful.
Second poke kinda sorta made me groan and twist my face into an unladylike pose, however my nurse had success. Blood came roaring out and then drugs went swimming in; reminicient of the sharks on Jaws.
I have two more days to go. I hope I have the same nurse. She was cool. See how cool she was:
|It's both for her patients & to remind herself to chill|
The half hour flew by, as we swapped stories with a self proclaimed "old fart" who was also packing a new liver.
He provided us with a heart-warming story of his transplant. A living donor transplant. 9 members of his family were tested to see if they were a match. Finally his son's brother-in-law hit the target. Imagine?
Imagine being that selfless??
Both were released from hospital 6 days post-surgery.
Sitting there, listening to his story, feeling that awe and respect for the stranger that donated a part of his liver, made me think. It made me want to share:
Notice the red circles?
What does yours look like?
Perhaps it's on your drivers license - as every province (and country) is different.
I challenge you to seriously consider registering to be an organ donor. 1 donor can save up to 8 lives and impact up to 75 others. That's HUGE!
Click here to watch an extremely motivating video on organ donation. Then look me in my Squeegeelicious eyeballs and tell me "no thanks".
Honestly, I respect anyone's decision, but ask that you at least take the time to learn, so that you make an informed decision.
Trust me, the results are awesome. I'm alive because someone took the time to learn and then register. I will never be able to express my gratitude and respect for that individual and their family for respecting his/her decision.
I can breath.
That's pretty damn cool.
BUT I have friends still waiting for new chunkers. Every day gets tougher and tougher for them. It gets harder and harder for them to breathe. Harder and harder to be mobile. Harder and harder for them to simply exist.
And that my friends, is not cool.