I was talking with Wife a couple of nights ago and we were going over all that had transpired over the last couple of months. As we were talking it became clear that she was in need of appreciation and release.
Over this whole period while I have been the focal point, she has been the quiet pillar of strength - doing what needed to be done, providing me with support and always in the very quiet, unassuming manner of hers. But of course when you are giving care, you want to be cared for too. But the real caregiver never asks for it; is almost embarrassed to ask for it because it would detract from the person that they are caring for.
Sometimes it seems as if the caregiver takes on this super strong persona because they feel it is essential to achieve the mission of care that they are entrusted with. We have a very good friend who posts (who I will not name because she's Italian and probably would send out a hit man if I did!!!!) who has gone through three very serious events with family members and I'm not sure she gets a fraction of the attention or credit that she deserves for all the loving care she has provided.
If I accomplished anything in the process of my kidney donation, it was only because I had a partner who was totally behind me and supportive of me and who took upon herself to be my caregiver. I am richer beyond belief for having this.
And if you have a caregiver in your life or family, don't take their, "I don't need any support; I'm stronger than the world" persona at face value. They need recognition. They deserve recognition. Give them a hug.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Quick Status Report
I and Wife are slowly returning to normal (sigh). My energy is returning. When I first got home, I felt transparent - not all here. Now I feel good just with a very, very weak abdomen and a need to go about my daily activities a little slower and more gingerly.
However, today I went for a 20 minute walk. I've been working the last couple of days (computer and telephone stuff) but with naps each afternoon. And I've had energy to make dinner for Wife as well. I'm on schedule and am patient.
However, today I went for a 20 minute walk. I've been working the last couple of days (computer and telephone stuff) but with naps each afternoon. And I've had energy to make dinner for Wife as well. I'm on schedule and am patient.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Organ Donation Chronicle - Clarity
Sacrifice and Purification
(Please note that this post is unabashedly spiritual in content. If spirituality is not your thing or turns you off feel free to take a pass.)
Well I spoke too soon when I titled the next to the last entry the conclusion. As a number of people noted, that post offered more in the way of question than answers. Now that I have returned home I have had time to reflect - what is the significance to me having made this decision and having gone through with it?
To understand what this has meant, requires an understanding of the spiritual concept of purification. If you know how they make metal, you know that we start with an ore subject it to great heat (smelting) until it melts (think blast furnaces). If we want to great an even purer form, we raise the heat even more (think making steel from iron) which removes the impurities. Most spiritual paths have a similar concept – that to achieve a higher level of spirituality requires purification – and the path of purification requires some kind of sacrifice. An example of this would be the monastic paths of renunciation in many traditions where the renunciate or monk sacrifices worldly pleasure for the discipline of a spiritual path.
The tradition that I follow emphasizes that the spiritual path is about purifying ourselves of a lifetime (actually lifetimes) of crap. If we are fortunate, this process can be short circuited slightly. This is through a process called Tapasya. Tapasya is a spiritual fire. It is sort of a spiritual blast furnace that gets rid of a whole lot of crap in a short amount of time. It is the fire of purification. You have to have reached a certain level of development in order to be able to withstand a Tapasya event just as an ore has to be processed and smelted before it can be refined. Tapasya is never ‘fun’. After all we are burning away unpleasant stuff.
Prior to the going to off to CT, I had had a number of experiences during meditation where I was getting the message that ‘I was ready’ that ‘I was strong enough to accept’. What I didn’t know was what was I in fact ready for and what was I strong enough to accept? Now I do.
There are a number of things in my past involving how I handled my relationships with loved ones that I have had lots of problems with. On the surface I have dealt with just about all of them. On the surface, the people that were affected by them have long since gone on and shown that in fact I did deal with the issues. But inside me, I have never been able to forgive myself for those pasts in spite of all the assurances through word and action from those involved.
When I got home and meditated in my own place on Sunday morning, I was suddenly aware that those guilts, those attachments were gone. They were cleanly and completely gone. Now it became clear what the meaning of this experience was. I had been given the opportunity to, of my own free will, make a sacrifice, a sacrifice of myself. And by making that sacrifice and because of my previous spiritual efforts, I was rewarded with the gift of Tapasya and had been able to remove the things that had been eating at me for decades. And on top of all this, this wave of Tapasya seems to have cleansed and healed the issues among my siblings and parent that have extended for decades as well.
I can tell you without embarrassment that the tears of gratitude were flowing that Sunday morning.
Now I think I really can conclude this Chronicle. I still need to heal. This whole long, long process has taken a lot out of me. But I see signs that gradually my energies are returning and my wounds are healing. Hopefully my Sister gets out of the hospital Tuesday morning. That will take a load off my mind.
I want to give my deepest thanks and gratitude to everyone who has assisted over these last few weeks. My Wife has been an unbelievable tower of strength and calmness. My brothers and father totally have stepped up to the plate and supported both my Sister and I. And all of the people all over the country and the world that have been thinking of us, praying, sending us their thoughts, calling, I cannot tell you how much it was appreciated.
Now the only problem is:
What the heck am I going to post on my blog that can hold a candle to this?
(Please note that this post is unabashedly spiritual in content. If spirituality is not your thing or turns you off feel free to take a pass.)
Well I spoke too soon when I titled the next to the last entry the conclusion. As a number of people noted, that post offered more in the way of question than answers. Now that I have returned home I have had time to reflect - what is the significance to me having made this decision and having gone through with it?
To understand what this has meant, requires an understanding of the spiritual concept of purification. If you know how they make metal, you know that we start with an ore subject it to great heat (smelting) until it melts (think blast furnaces). If we want to great an even purer form, we raise the heat even more (think making steel from iron) which removes the impurities. Most spiritual paths have a similar concept – that to achieve a higher level of spirituality requires purification – and the path of purification requires some kind of sacrifice. An example of this would be the monastic paths of renunciation in many traditions where the renunciate or monk sacrifices worldly pleasure for the discipline of a spiritual path.
The tradition that I follow emphasizes that the spiritual path is about purifying ourselves of a lifetime (actually lifetimes) of crap. If we are fortunate, this process can be short circuited slightly. This is through a process called Tapasya. Tapasya is a spiritual fire. It is sort of a spiritual blast furnace that gets rid of a whole lot of crap in a short amount of time. It is the fire of purification. You have to have reached a certain level of development in order to be able to withstand a Tapasya event just as an ore has to be processed and smelted before it can be refined. Tapasya is never ‘fun’. After all we are burning away unpleasant stuff.
Prior to the going to off to CT, I had had a number of experiences during meditation where I was getting the message that ‘I was ready’ that ‘I was strong enough to accept’. What I didn’t know was what was I in fact ready for and what was I strong enough to accept? Now I do.
There are a number of things in my past involving how I handled my relationships with loved ones that I have had lots of problems with. On the surface I have dealt with just about all of them. On the surface, the people that were affected by them have long since gone on and shown that in fact I did deal with the issues. But inside me, I have never been able to forgive myself for those pasts in spite of all the assurances through word and action from those involved.
When I got home and meditated in my own place on Sunday morning, I was suddenly aware that those guilts, those attachments were gone. They were cleanly and completely gone. Now it became clear what the meaning of this experience was. I had been given the opportunity to, of my own free will, make a sacrifice, a sacrifice of myself. And by making that sacrifice and because of my previous spiritual efforts, I was rewarded with the gift of Tapasya and had been able to remove the things that had been eating at me for decades. And on top of all this, this wave of Tapasya seems to have cleansed and healed the issues among my siblings and parent that have extended for decades as well.
I can tell you without embarrassment that the tears of gratitude were flowing that Sunday morning.
Now I think I really can conclude this Chronicle. I still need to heal. This whole long, long process has taken a lot out of me. But I see signs that gradually my energies are returning and my wounds are healing. Hopefully my Sister gets out of the hospital Tuesday morning. That will take a load off my mind.
I want to give my deepest thanks and gratitude to everyone who has assisted over these last few weeks. My Wife has been an unbelievable tower of strength and calmness. My brothers and father totally have stepped up to the plate and supported both my Sister and I. And all of the people all over the country and the world that have been thinking of us, praying, sending us their thoughts, calling, I cannot tell you how much it was appreciated.
Now the only problem is:
What the heck am I going to post on my blog that can hold a candle to this?
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Organ Donation Chronicle - Going Home
We couldn't just get a nice relaxing flight home. We had to have a bit of drama.
We were visiting my sister in the hospital one last time before we left, when I received an automated message from my good friends at United Airlines.
“Hello. This is an automated flight update message from United Airlines. Flight 1196…from Hartford to…Washington, Dulles will now be departing at…4:30 PM…”
I quick mental check – I remembered that there was a 2 hour wait in Washington for our flight on to Albuquerque. And our flight was originally scheduled to leave at 2:30 PM. That meant no making our connection. We said goodbye to Sister and we hightailed it to the airport. There was about an hour of agonizing while I worked our options on the phone but ultimately we decided to get in line at the airport. We were fortunate to get a flight the goes through Chicago and still have our first class seats. I was wiped out on the plane ride.
Tim de Buffalo picked us up at the airport. I had him stop so I could give Pulisha a quick hug. Then on to our home where I promptly collapsed and had the best sleep I’ve had since I headed out on May 9.
We were visiting my sister in the hospital one last time before we left, when I received an automated message from my good friends at United Airlines.
“Hello. This is an automated flight update message from United Airlines. Flight 1196…from Hartford to…Washington, Dulles will now be departing at…4:30 PM…”
I quick mental check – I remembered that there was a 2 hour wait in Washington for our flight on to Albuquerque. And our flight was originally scheduled to leave at 2:30 PM. That meant no making our connection. We said goodbye to Sister and we hightailed it to the airport. There was about an hour of agonizing while I worked our options on the phone but ultimately we decided to get in line at the airport. We were fortunate to get a flight the goes through Chicago and still have our first class seats. I was wiped out on the plane ride.
Tim de Buffalo picked us up at the airport. I had him stop so I could give Pulisha a quick hug. Then on to our home where I promptly collapsed and had the best sleep I’ve had since I headed out on May 9.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Organ Donation Chronicle - D plus 8
Conclusion
It has been over a week since the operation. I am clearly on the mend with the swelling around the incision decreasing and a continuous but diminishing level of pain. You definitely know you’ve been through something. Physically it’s like they took your high performance V-6 out and replaced it with a 2-cylinder self-propelled lawnmower engine. My brain seems to have traded in it’s top of the line MAC for a 1980’s PC.
Emotionally and psychologically, it’s another story. How does one process and understand the consequences of doing something like this? The first few days after I was out of the hospital, I couldn’t even talk about the event without breaking into tears. Why?
I had made such a huge investment into doing this. I did not want to fail –did not want to fail. It has to have been the greatest personal test I have ever faced. I did not want to face myself and say that when the chips were down and someone else’s life was at risk, that I was to afraid to pull the trigger because of my own fear of dying.
What if it had been some outside influence that had prevented it like the scare with the heart stress test? That brought on another set of fears. When you publicly announce you are going to do this and you receive as much public support back, how do you go and tell everyone that you were rejected? That may seem like a petty emotion, but it was right up their on my fear list.
And there was the fear of what if something went wrong. What if the worse happened and I died or came out a vegetable?
During those first few days out of the hospital, there was this realization that none of these fears had actualized. I had done it. I had followed through, put my life on the line, given my sister a chance to live again. I had taken the risk in order to balance my karmic accounts for all the good that I had received. Nothing had jumped up to disqualify me. I would not be a person who talked a good game but never actually did it. I was healthy, recovering; my wife and her future lifestyle were safe. I don’t know if it was relief, joy, incredulity, or what but I was overwhelmed.
Then there is the influence that all of this has had on my family that I eluded to earlier. Just after I got out of the hospital my oldest brother arrived to assist in the transition. My Dad and two brothers were together to discuss how we would help my sister in the complicated process of establishing her new regimen. This is the first time all of us had been together since my Mother’s death four years ago. In the interim there had been fallouts between one of my brothers and I and one of them and my Dad. And none of us had been close to my sister. I can honestly say that I had thought all of us getting together was never going to happen again…but here it was…a reality.
I also have an unbelievable wellspring of gratitude fill my heart. Gratitude to my Wife who put her own wellbeing at risk because she knew that this was something that I felt so strongly about. Gratitude to God for having given me the opportunity to show what I was really made of. Gratitude to all the medical staff who in the clutch took care of my Sister and I. Gratitude to my family who all rose to the occasion to help even though I never asked or even thought about the consequences of my actions to them. Gratitude for all those who gave us support in whatever form from thoughts and prayers to the hotel people in Manchester. Gratitude that whatever the magnitude of this decision it was a small small sacrifice compared to that made by many, many millions and millions of others around the world all the time.
So what does one make of having gone through such an experience? I can’t say yet. It’s going to have to rattle around in my being for a while longer. I know I’ve changed. I’m not sure just how, but I’ve changed.
It has been over a week since the operation. I am clearly on the mend with the swelling around the incision decreasing and a continuous but diminishing level of pain. You definitely know you’ve been through something. Physically it’s like they took your high performance V-6 out and replaced it with a 2-cylinder self-propelled lawnmower engine. My brain seems to have traded in it’s top of the line MAC for a 1980’s PC.
Emotionally and psychologically, it’s another story. How does one process and understand the consequences of doing something like this? The first few days after I was out of the hospital, I couldn’t even talk about the event without breaking into tears. Why?
I had made such a huge investment into doing this. I did not want to fail –did not want to fail. It has to have been the greatest personal test I have ever faced. I did not want to face myself and say that when the chips were down and someone else’s life was at risk, that I was to afraid to pull the trigger because of my own fear of dying.
What if it had been some outside influence that had prevented it like the scare with the heart stress test? That brought on another set of fears. When you publicly announce you are going to do this and you receive as much public support back, how do you go and tell everyone that you were rejected? That may seem like a petty emotion, but it was right up their on my fear list.
And there was the fear of what if something went wrong. What if the worse happened and I died or came out a vegetable?
During those first few days out of the hospital, there was this realization that none of these fears had actualized. I had done it. I had followed through, put my life on the line, given my sister a chance to live again. I had taken the risk in order to balance my karmic accounts for all the good that I had received. Nothing had jumped up to disqualify me. I would not be a person who talked a good game but never actually did it. I was healthy, recovering; my wife and her future lifestyle were safe. I don’t know if it was relief, joy, incredulity, or what but I was overwhelmed.
Then there is the influence that all of this has had on my family that I eluded to earlier. Just after I got out of the hospital my oldest brother arrived to assist in the transition. My Dad and two brothers were together to discuss how we would help my sister in the complicated process of establishing her new regimen. This is the first time all of us had been together since my Mother’s death four years ago. In the interim there had been fallouts between one of my brothers and I and one of them and my Dad. And none of us had been close to my sister. I can honestly say that I had thought all of us getting together was never going to happen again…but here it was…a reality.
I also have an unbelievable wellspring of gratitude fill my heart. Gratitude to my Wife who put her own wellbeing at risk because she knew that this was something that I felt so strongly about. Gratitude to God for having given me the opportunity to show what I was really made of. Gratitude to all the medical staff who in the clutch took care of my Sister and I. Gratitude to my family who all rose to the occasion to help even though I never asked or even thought about the consequences of my actions to them. Gratitude for all those who gave us support in whatever form from thoughts and prayers to the hotel people in Manchester. Gratitude that whatever the magnitude of this decision it was a small small sacrifice compared to that made by many, many millions and millions of others around the world all the time.
So what does one make of having gone through such an experience? I can’t say yet. It’s going to have to rattle around in my being for a while longer. I know I’ve changed. I’m not sure just how, but I’ve changed.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Organ Donation Chronicle - D plus 4 (3)
From Recovery to Exit
I’m up from the recovery room. Wife’s gone. And I’m in a lot of pain – more pain than I can remember ever. You’d think they’d cut me open and pulled something out? Oh yah they did. What a change. One moment I’m totally focused on composing myself for the operation. In a blink I’m in la-la fuzz land of the recovery, and in a couple of longer blinks I’m in the hell of the four pains. I’m using my brown pain button but the narcotic feeling isn’t helping things. I’m trying to figure out this whole bizarre world of the hospital with its noise and interruptions. My roommate, an older person in for a kidney crisis, watches Spanish language TV all night.
You keep getting different people, nurses and care assistants, as shift changes. You’re getting a handle on what to expect and what not to – all while dealing with intense pain and discomfort. In the morning the doctors come by and let you know things are fine. I had my best caregiver that morning. She gave me a sponge bath that was a total act of gentility and kindness. I later learned she had come from Peru where she had a degree in psychology, had come to the US seven years ago, had started as a cleaner in the hospital until she got here certificate to be a patient care assistant.
Slowly through that Thursday, it seemed that I was stabilizing. I was told that the key to showing the doctors that I was healthy enough to get out of the hospital would be when my digestive track showed proper elimination processes – meaning the passing gas and solid waste. As we entered the second evening, the gas was getting worse and worse. The pain was picking up again as the gas build up put pressure on the internal bruising. I was spiraling downhill in my spirits. My brother, the doctor, stopped by in the evening and reminded me that this was a natural process, that I needed to stop fighting things and that I should remember there were lots of people thinking about me and supporting me. I grabbed on to that. I wasn’t alone. I needed to let go and have confidence that I was supported.
Thursday night was a bad night. I was pushing myself to get up and get around because they old me that was a key getting the internal processes going again. There is just no way of simply falling asleep for any length of time. With great effort and pain, I would finally get myself into a position where my body was temporarily feeling comfortable (understanding that each movement, each shift brought some sort of sharp pain and required the negotiation one’s various tubes) and I would sleep for an hour or an hour and half. Then the body part arthritic body part (shoulder or hip) that was my main support would start crying out and I’d wake up or one of the many hospital disruptions would wake me up and I’d be aware of the pain all over again. I’d decide it was a good time get my ass up and move around. I was able to do this with help the first night and on my own thereafter. Then I’d get back into bed (painfully), use a breathing exercise tool (to encourage deep breathing to avoid pneumonia), try to sit up semi-lucid for a while, get tired, try to find a comfortable position. Doze off for an hour or so. Etc. Etc.
That night I also had a set back when a nurse put an IV tube in incorrectly and one of my left hand and wrist got all swollen. It took a day for that to go down and the hand could not only be barely used but I could no longer put pressure on it without pain that further restricted my ability to shift my position.
I started Friday still in lots of pain with the gas building up. But throughout the day my walking was paying efforts as gas started coming out the front. We needed help from a suppository to get things going the other direction but I finally got my breakthrough that night. My roommate was sent to a nursing home early that night and they moved me to the window side of the room – a bit cheerier. Big event in the late afternoon – they took out my catheter. I’d figured out how to unplug the IV machine, so I could move around on my own. With only me in the room, things were definitely more peaceful and I rested significantly better that night.
Very early Saturday morning, I got a new roommate, Dave. He was a really cool guy with a serious prostate infection that had sent him into a super high temperature. A bus driver for the Hartford transit system, he was a divorced father of two, still friendly with his ex and a love outdoor activities and food…and a frustration with the hospital system.
When my doctors came in during the morning they gave us unexpected news; we could be released – right then! One problem, we had nowhere to go. Based on what we’d been told, we’d made our reservations for the residence hotel in Manchester starting Sunday. Wife went to work (she’s become a master at playing the ‘he’s an organ donor’ card. The hotel said they could get us into a smoking room for one night and then put us in our non-smoking room starting Sunday. Somehow she got this upgraded to a non-smoking two room suite that we were able to stay in until Thursday for the same price as we originally quoted.
Getting out was another exercise in frustration. When we finally got the room committed, we told them we were going to discharge, but the doctor had already left the hospital. 45 minutes later I went to the nurse who had still not made the phone call. It took 3 hours until the final paper work was done. I had gotten myself changed and ready to go in the beginning. By the time we were leaving it was 5 in the evening and much colder than when we thought we were actually going to live. By the time we got to the hotel, I was incredibly cold. I jumped immediately into bed. Wife needed to go out and get my pain meds and some food. I could not get warm. Wife was gone for so long. I thought the pharmacy was across the street? I started to think that I was going into shock and that I was going to be sent back to the hospital with tubes put back in both ends and that Wife was in some parking lot lying bleeding. I was in as bad a state as I have ever been.
Wife came back after an hour and a half. I had started to warm up by then. As soon as I heard her come back, one fear was gone. She had bought some wonton soup for me and as soon as the warm soup hit with us together, I felt an almost instant transformation. We sat together in the living room type area of the suite, I with a heating pad. I was transformed and relaxed. I was out of the hospital and felt like I was back in the world.
I’m up from the recovery room. Wife’s gone. And I’m in a lot of pain – more pain than I can remember ever. You’d think they’d cut me open and pulled something out? Oh yah they did. What a change. One moment I’m totally focused on composing myself for the operation. In a blink I’m in la-la fuzz land of the recovery, and in a couple of longer blinks I’m in the hell of the four pains. I’m using my brown pain button but the narcotic feeling isn’t helping things. I’m trying to figure out this whole bizarre world of the hospital with its noise and interruptions. My roommate, an older person in for a kidney crisis, watches Spanish language TV all night.
You keep getting different people, nurses and care assistants, as shift changes. You’re getting a handle on what to expect and what not to – all while dealing with intense pain and discomfort. In the morning the doctors come by and let you know things are fine. I had my best caregiver that morning. She gave me a sponge bath that was a total act of gentility and kindness. I later learned she had come from Peru where she had a degree in psychology, had come to the US seven years ago, had started as a cleaner in the hospital until she got here certificate to be a patient care assistant.
Slowly through that Thursday, it seemed that I was stabilizing. I was told that the key to showing the doctors that I was healthy enough to get out of the hospital would be when my digestive track showed proper elimination processes – meaning the passing gas and solid waste. As we entered the second evening, the gas was getting worse and worse. The pain was picking up again as the gas build up put pressure on the internal bruising. I was spiraling downhill in my spirits. My brother, the doctor, stopped by in the evening and reminded me that this was a natural process, that I needed to stop fighting things and that I should remember there were lots of people thinking about me and supporting me. I grabbed on to that. I wasn’t alone. I needed to let go and have confidence that I was supported.
Thursday night was a bad night. I was pushing myself to get up and get around because they old me that was a key getting the internal processes going again. There is just no way of simply falling asleep for any length of time. With great effort and pain, I would finally get myself into a position where my body was temporarily feeling comfortable (understanding that each movement, each shift brought some sort of sharp pain and required the negotiation one’s various tubes) and I would sleep for an hour or an hour and half. Then the body part arthritic body part (shoulder or hip) that was my main support would start crying out and I’d wake up or one of the many hospital disruptions would wake me up and I’d be aware of the pain all over again. I’d decide it was a good time get my ass up and move around. I was able to do this with help the first night and on my own thereafter. Then I’d get back into bed (painfully), use a breathing exercise tool (to encourage deep breathing to avoid pneumonia), try to sit up semi-lucid for a while, get tired, try to find a comfortable position. Doze off for an hour or so. Etc. Etc.
That night I also had a set back when a nurse put an IV tube in incorrectly and one of my left hand and wrist got all swollen. It took a day for that to go down and the hand could not only be barely used but I could no longer put pressure on it without pain that further restricted my ability to shift my position.
I started Friday still in lots of pain with the gas building up. But throughout the day my walking was paying efforts as gas started coming out the front. We needed help from a suppository to get things going the other direction but I finally got my breakthrough that night. My roommate was sent to a nursing home early that night and they moved me to the window side of the room – a bit cheerier. Big event in the late afternoon – they took out my catheter. I’d figured out how to unplug the IV machine, so I could move around on my own. With only me in the room, things were definitely more peaceful and I rested significantly better that night.
Very early Saturday morning, I got a new roommate, Dave. He was a really cool guy with a serious prostate infection that had sent him into a super high temperature. A bus driver for the Hartford transit system, he was a divorced father of two, still friendly with his ex and a love outdoor activities and food…and a frustration with the hospital system.
When my doctors came in during the morning they gave us unexpected news; we could be released – right then! One problem, we had nowhere to go. Based on what we’d been told, we’d made our reservations for the residence hotel in Manchester starting Sunday. Wife went to work (she’s become a master at playing the ‘he’s an organ donor’ card. The hotel said they could get us into a smoking room for one night and then put us in our non-smoking room starting Sunday. Somehow she got this upgraded to a non-smoking two room suite that we were able to stay in until Thursday for the same price as we originally quoted.
Getting out was another exercise in frustration. When we finally got the room committed, we told them we were going to discharge, but the doctor had already left the hospital. 45 minutes later I went to the nurse who had still not made the phone call. It took 3 hours until the final paper work was done. I had gotten myself changed and ready to go in the beginning. By the time we were leaving it was 5 in the evening and much colder than when we thought we were actually going to live. By the time we got to the hotel, I was incredibly cold. I jumped immediately into bed. Wife needed to go out and get my pain meds and some food. I could not get warm. Wife was gone for so long. I thought the pharmacy was across the street? I started to think that I was going into shock and that I was going to be sent back to the hospital with tubes put back in both ends and that Wife was in some parking lot lying bleeding. I was in as bad a state as I have ever been.
Wife came back after an hour and a half. I had started to warm up by then. As soon as I heard her come back, one fear was gone. She had bought some wonton soup for me and as soon as the warm soup hit with us together, I felt an almost instant transformation. We sat together in the living room type area of the suite, I with a heating pad. I was transformed and relaxed. I was out of the hospital and felt like I was back in the world.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Organ Donation Chronicle - Current Status
Since a couple of readers asked, I will give you the current status.
Generally, I feel pretty good - in fact amazingly good considering how horrible I felt only 5 days ago.
My mental processes are back. I don't feel I need to focus 100% of my energy on getting myself through the pain. This means it's easy for me to talk to people, read, listen to music, do some work on the computer - which also means that I feel like a human again.
Physically, I'm substantially better. The main pain issue is the healing taking place where they made the incision right at the center of the gut. It feels like there is a porcupine inside of me and when I try to bend down or move to awkwardly, I really feel it. This is going to be around for a while.
I definitely am over doing it and based on Wife's adamant and correct advice, I'm going to honker back the next couple of days and try and just stick around the hotel. This is difficult because my sister is still in the hospital and her support needs are great in order for us to make sure that she does what she needs in order to have this be successful. However, my older brother is here now and Wife is fully committed to helping in this area as well so I can focus on healing.
Psychologically, I'm still dealing with the magnitude of what has occurred and what it means. That's going to take a while to figure out.
We are scheduled for our check out interview on Thursday and have changed our reservations to return to Albuquerque on Saturday afternoon arriving in the evening. It should be quite a feeling, walking back into our house.
Generally, I feel pretty good - in fact amazingly good considering how horrible I felt only 5 days ago.
My mental processes are back. I don't feel I need to focus 100% of my energy on getting myself through the pain. This means it's easy for me to talk to people, read, listen to music, do some work on the computer - which also means that I feel like a human again.
Physically, I'm substantially better. The main pain issue is the healing taking place where they made the incision right at the center of the gut. It feels like there is a porcupine inside of me and when I try to bend down or move to awkwardly, I really feel it. This is going to be around for a while.
I definitely am over doing it and based on Wife's adamant and correct advice, I'm going to honker back the next couple of days and try and just stick around the hotel. This is difficult because my sister is still in the hospital and her support needs are great in order for us to make sure that she does what she needs in order to have this be successful. However, my older brother is here now and Wife is fully committed to helping in this area as well so I can focus on healing.
Psychologically, I'm still dealing with the magnitude of what has occurred and what it means. That's going to take a while to figure out.
We are scheduled for our check out interview on Thursday and have changed our reservations to return to Albuquerque on Saturday afternoon arriving in the evening. It should be quite a feeling, walking back into our house.
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