I know it's been three and a half months but I finally have the time (and let's be perfectly honest, the motivation) to write this out. It's also been a little hard to write because of the emotion of that nearly 30 hour moment of my life. So I will start at the beginning. I had reached my turn to go and visit my parents in Texas. I was supposed to go the weekend before but my dad's family found that that was a better time to visit and so I moved my visit to the first weekend in August. Before I went I joked that every time someone went to visit my parents something big happened, and boy did it.
Saturday was an extremely rough day for both of my parents. My mom had had little sleep the night before and things were getting pretty scary for dad both physically and emotionally. I had never seen him that sick and I could tell that things would be changing very soon, either for the better or for the worse. My dad and I had some good bonding moments in the day and were able to watch the "Top 50 Plays in BYU Football history" special online while Mom went to take a nap and take care of other life needs. I was glad I was there and sad that I could only stay for a short time. We spent the day together Saturday and then around 7 I decided that I should probably find something to eat. I left for no longer than 30 minutes and came back to a flurry of activity in the room. My mom immediately came to me and told me there was a possibility that some organs were available. From my previous post, you can understand that I was trying to keep my expectations down since organs promised are not always organs given. So many factors go into determining if organs are viable and if they are viable how they are used. It was clear that my dad was in desperate need of the organs and had just been cleared to receive the transplant after a bout with an infection that temporarily off the list.
So, the waiting began. Soon the surgeon came to start the discussion and the paperwork. With heaven's intervention the Elder's Quorum President from the local ward had planned a visit to my dad that night. With a quick call my mom asked him to bring someone else along and they were able to give my Dad a blessing. It was a sweet and tender experience that reaffirmed God's hand in this trial of our life. After the blessing, Mom decided she would stay with Dad for the night. She drove me back to the apartment where I slept for the night (somewhat miraculously I dare say). The next morning would begin one of the longest days of my life.
I arrived back at the hospital on Sunday morning to the chaos of transplant preparation. Nurses were constantly coming in and out and monitoring. Doctors were also checking in. I was also greeted by some bad news. Due to dropping blood pressure and rising white blood count, people were getting nervous about going through with the transplant. Around 9:30 the hepatologist on call came in with a grave expression. She didn't say much and was immediately followed out the door by my Mom. This wasn't a good sign. This woman had been pushing and praying to the transplant to happen and she was discouraged by the recent blood tests. Around 10, Dr. McKenna, one of the transplant surgeons came in and said he was thinking the transplant was a no go. This was not good news. And I could feel that little hope inside of me deflating. He said he would discuss the situation with his colleagues and Dad's other doctors and then make a final decision. The time it took for him to leave and come back may well constitute the longest hour of my life thus far. Somehow I knew that the transplant would happen although I wasn't sure how. In this moment I felt totally alone. If these organs didn't end up going to my Dad I'm sure that emotional devastation would I have followed and I was in no way prepared to deal with that on my own. Luckily, Cami, got on a plane, not knowing what she would find when she got here, to come and help.
With the looming possibility of a "dry run" at the transplant again we waited for the doctor's to return. Around 11, Dr. Kim (the surgeon from the night before) came in and said they were going to do the transplant. He had been an advocate of it from the beginning and I'm so glad he was there that day. Hope had returned again. Dr. McKenna came back to tell us that he had no reason to do the transplant other than a gut feeling and the fact that Dad looked more "bored" than sick. Little did Dr. McKenna know that that boredom was actually fierce anger and determination. Whatever it was I'm glad my Dad showed it in his face!
We still had a flurry of activity happening around us. Blood transfusions and continuous monitoring accompanied by that uncomfortable waiting period were our life for the next hour and a half. Finally the anesthesiologist came in and it was our moment to leave and begin waiting. We left the hospital with, I'll be honest here, a little bit of a "see ya later" attitude toward Dad and headed to the airport to pick up Cami. We told only those in the immediately family and Dad's family since the surgery still wasn't a go until they started cutting. We waited for the call to tell us that the surgery had begun and then we cried. Well at least I did....but I basically cried on and off during this whole experience so maybe that doesn't mean anything. Once again showing that someone else is in charge, we got the call that the surgery had begun right at my parent's home ward headed into sacrament meeting. In that day, fast Sunday no less, so many people in that room were praying and fasting on my Dad's behalf. It was amazing that they were able to get the news right as it happened.
Then we waited. We took Mom's phone away so that she could sleep and we just waited. We sort of didn't know what to do with ourselves. We went to the hospital for a status update around the time they finished the kidney and had started working on the liver. We went back around 10:30 when we knew the transplant was around ending time. Finally Mom received a call from Dr. Kim saying that it was over and everything went as well as could be expected.
We didn't really get to see Dad until the next day and even then he was sedated. At that moment I just relished in the miracle. I know that things don't always turn out the way we want them to. I think the life after transplant hasn't been what my parents thought it would be either but we keep moving forward, knowing that what we have is a gift. There are so many people who have prayed so hard for my family during this time and those people should know that those prayers were felt by us all during this time.
Remember that sometimes our Father in Heaven pushes us to the point where we feel that we cannot go any farther and then the blessings come. I have felt that before in my life but never to this extent. In the end, I know that Heavenly Father has a plan for me that I don't always understand but I know will ultimately be for my good. It's in looking back on the trials that I think we learn the most!
