Four Years Out

Today is the four year anniversary of my first lung transplant at Mass General Hospital. This day back in 2005 was a memorable, yet terrifying, exciting, sad, scary, and a very joyous occasion. I remember the night before like it was yesterday….

That weekend I had been in Maine for Thanksgiving with the Marsh Family. Mary Marsh had asked me to pull the wish bone from the turkey and make a wish. I did…… that following Monday night while watching CSI, Miami at 10pm the phone rang. I had a notion, an uneasy and nervous feeling in my stomach. The phone was for me, it was the lung transplant surgeon Dr. John Wain, asking if I was “ready?” Was I? I didn’t know, the time had finally come, 4 ½ years on the list. He said he was on his way to look at the organs to see if they are viable. He said he would call back soon. I freaked! I called my mom, dad, sister, and best friend Mackenzie. They were all at my house within the hour. We waited, waited, and waited. Midnight, 2am, 4am, 5am, passed. Around 6:30am the phone rang again, “They are a go” said Dr. Wain, “be at MGH by noon.” At the point memories all mix together; I was emotional, scared, and optimistic. I do remember talking with several family members and friends, but none of the conversations. We drove to the Hospital in Mom’s car, not sure why the rest of weren’t thinking, we actually let her drive. It was a long and frightening ride. As soon as we were inside the large medical institution we were led to the SICU to a private positive pressure room. Surrounded by glass, the entire room was sterile, no pictures on the walls, just IV pumps, blood pressure machines, heart monitors, medicine cart, a fusty looking bed, and a small 13” TV strapped to the ceiling. After the lab drew many tubes of blood, my sats were taken and anesthesia came up and explained the risks of lung transplantation, to which I signed off as okay on the form, I was headed down to the operating room. My family was allowed to come as far as the induction room but they were required to be fully covered in alien looking scrubs. Tears were shed, smiles were shared, and I was ready to go! “See you on the other side,” I said as they rolled me away into the OR. This was it, I was either going to live or die.

The surgery took about nine hours. Constant updates were given to my family and clan of friends who had gathered in the waiting room. Supposedly they took over the place, sharing snacks and games, sleeping, laughing, and crying. It was late into the night before the surgery was complete. Most people went home but my immediate family stayed. Early in the morning they were finally allowed t see me in the SICU behind the closed glass. My father said he noticed the color back in my cheeks right away. I lay there still, motionless as I was in an induced coma to help heal the large clam shell incision across my chest. Days passed, the 1st of December came and went. The doctors hoped to extabate me within a week of the operation but I ended up getting pneumonia in my new lungs so I wasn’t off the ventilator until December 16th. I do remember bits of pieces when I was under. I not quite sure what was real or what was imaginary but I did see family and friends and people from the past. On Dec 14th the doctors finally allowed my family to come into the glass room and talk with me and hold my hand. They had to be fully gowned, masked, and gloved though. The next few days were a blur. I had ICU psychosis, wasn’t allowed to eat, in pain, and felt depressed. It seems as though time was standing still. Finally on the 21st day I was transferred to Blake 6, the transplant step-down unit. My first thought was to take a shower. My mom placed a chair in the large hospital room shower and I just sat in there for 45min, letting the warm satisfying rain drops just splash off of me. This was the best feeling I had had since before the transplant. After, I read several of my well wishes from all the many people who wrote during the past 21-day ordeal. My eyes filled with tears as strangers were saying prayers for me all around the world. Those next few days flew by, I was a star patient. I was walking on my own now, eating regular food, and learning quickly my new routines for daily medications. I was now prescribed at least 15 different medications, totaling over 35 pills a day. On Christmas Eve my Doctor came by my room and gave me the most wonderful news yet, I was being discharged tomorrow, Christmas Day! What a perfect gift!

Now four years have passed. I am grateful to all my family and friends for being so supportive, My Aunt Susie, my Mom, Leah, and Fred. But most importantly I am thankful to my donor, who gave me life, breath, and new lungs.

~Inhale.~Exhale.Breathe.~