Why I'm Writing This

When it became obvious to me that I was about to choose in to an elective, major surgery, I searched the internet for information. I wanted to hear facts from the kidney foundations, which I found plenty of. I also wanted to know the donor's side, which I never did find.

Correction: I just found another (2 weeks before my own surgery.). Her writing is shorter than mine and has more humor. It is interesting to me the similarities and differences in the process to donate. Hers includes pictures and includes accurate facts.Very cool. Here is her link: http://mylittlekidney.blogspot.com/2011/06/and-verdict-is.html?m=1

Because of my lifelong skepticism of the financial motivation of the medical field, I believed they would publish whatever was needed to convince people to donate. They are in sales. It is how they make their money. It is what they have to do. Well, I have changed my opinion, after this experience.

I decided a blog from a donor was needed, and almost started one right away, but my need to not be judged (as I will describe below) won on a daily basis, although I kept my intention to fill this need for a future donor.  I decided not to include pictures or names, for privacy to all involved, because I am a very publicly private person, although that might surprise you if you have ever met me, as I can be quite friendly and boisterous.

I share my strong belief in God and his hand in all of this and receiving answers and whisperings from him and miracles.  If you don't believe in this, I am okay with that, but please respect that I have the right to my own experience. If anything in this blog bothers you, please try to ignore what rubs you wrong and find the parts that you are looking for.

I mention my feelings of skepticism of the financial motivations of the medical field.  My skepticism wasn't about the method of allopathy. I have a close family member who works in an HMO hospital, and throughout the years I have picked up on information about financial motivations of the medical field.  (Yes, I know about the arguments about the financial motivation of ANYthing.)

I have always gone to the traditional doctor and the hospital and believe in the miracles of medicine and operations.  I also have used (and still believe in) the benefits of, herbs, essential oils, and other homeopathic methods.  I also go the the chiropractor. I also believe in nutrition and lifestyle. I have done my best to do what I believed was best for each situation, using a balance of all of the above. This has brought scolding from my both my only allopathic friends and from my only natural friends. I do my best, just as everyone else does, which in my case seems to please nobody but me and my conscience.

Please keep into consideration that this is MY own journey. I hope it will give you some idea of what you might expect if your experience is similar to mine. Maybe you can find out from one horse's mouth how accurate the factual information available on the web is. Maybe my journey will answer some of your questions or make their facts more understandable.

I have dated each post as closely to the date it actually happened, in chronological order.  If you are interested in my story, please read the posts chronologically, labeled numerically as well, or by title, located by date in the lower right corner under the heading Blog Archives.

For a quick rundown list of information I found through research (and in hindsight I found to be accurate, by the way) without having to read my whole story, look at these posts:
     "Research", dated July 30, 2014, and labeled "4"
     "4 Phases of Testing", dated November 19, 2014, and labeled "7"
     "Paired Exchange Program", dated December 3, 2014, and labeled '6.5"
Other tests are sprinkled throughout the blog. You might get some idea where to find them by looking at the post titles.

Two-Year Post-Op

Simplest. Appointment. Ever.

I filled out an online survey about my experience.
I went to my local hospital lab to pee in a cup and get one vial of blood.
Done.

No news is good news, they say, but I am more curious than that, so I contacted the kidney donor coordinator to find out the results of my tests. I can't find the results at the moment, but here were her reactions as she read them to me over the phone.

"The first one tested your ______. You did really well.  Normal it is _____ and you were slightly under with ______.
"The second tested your ______. Oh, you did very well here.  Normal it is ____, and you were quite a bit under.  You did GREAT on this one!"

Someday I will find out what those are and fill in the blanks, but my point is that I am apparently healthier in the kidneys than the average person who has two!  Yay, me!

I have gained my weight back.  I don't know how much. I can fit into my size 6 business pants, but I'm pushing it with bulges.  I probably ought to buy some more and find out my real size.  Again, when I find out, I will let you know here. (I found out 3/4/17 ,., 149 lbs., so I should probably be wearing my size 8 or 10 pants again. It was a lot of fun being a 4!)

How I am doing with my routines?  Uh......
*I was supposed to drink 8 glasses of water.
     I do drink water, but I haven't been keeping track, which probably means I am getting down close to 2 or 3.
*I was supposed to take my blood pressure every month.
     I forgot about that.
*I am supposed to limit my peanut butter, heavy milk products, processed meats.
     Well, I eat WAY less than I did before the donation. Maybe I eat one of these a week. That's limiting, right?
*I am supposed to eat protein.
     Yah.  Um. I kinda forgot about this. I know most people often eat too much protein.  Yah, I have the opposite problem.  Four bites of animal protein or beans, and I feel SOOO heavy in my stomach.  Not feeling heavy as in my weight or physical appearance, but like I just ate a bunch of really heavy food.
*I am supposed to have a regular exercise routine.
     Once we fixed my car, I pretty much stopped walking.  I loved walking.
   
This is good for me to take a look at.  I recommit to being conscious of meeting my nutritional needs. I will do this by charting what I eat and drink and adjusting as needed.

There is definitely a sensation across my belly between my bellybutton and my incision at the bikini line.  I can't explain it.  It's not quite numb.  It doesn't quite hurt.  It kind of has a sensation of both. When I tighten and release my muscles there while standing up, you almost can't detect any movement of my belly, but my muscle is pretty tight and moving quite a bit on the inside, almost like it is numb, but I have feeling as I push or touch it.  It's not normal, but it's not bad, it's just ... different.

If you are actively looking for my incision scars by tugging and pulling, you can find them. However, if you saw me change my clothes, the only scar you would see is my "button", but its pink discoloration is only about 1/4 inch long, and it's maybe 1/16 inch thick. It is disappearing, as well. It looks like it will actually be my skin color rather than white, pretty much disappearing.

I don't know what else to say.  It's a great life!!! :) .... and I rock one kidney!
http://www.rock1kidney.org/

The Circle of Life

After the first kidney rejection attempt, which the doctors got under control, a lot of complications started.  Mom got gestational diabetes, which they got under control, then high blood pressure, which they got under control, then edema, followed by chasing one of the above or another, eventually landing Mom flat for the remainder of her pregnancy, and finally landing her in the hospital at 26 weeks gestation with the goal of keeping the baby for one more day .... one more hour .... time for an emergency c-section. Baby girl was born 27 weeks and 3 days gestation. 1 lb, something ounces.

Mom watched the birth, although she has no memory, because shortly after the birth Mom suddenly flatlined, but the doctors worked quickly and, with cardio paddles and I have no idea what else, they brought her back from that trauma, but the kidney seemed to continue to be in shock for weeks. They tried different methods of bringing that kidney back into activity.

Update 2/14/17:

Today the baby is 8 1/2 weeks old (35 weeks gestation), 4 lbs. 5.5 ounces, acts like a typical 8 week old. Has lots of hair. Has enough meat on her that someone can pick her up without feeling like she is going to break. Alert. Smart. Still in the hospital with some attachments. Drinking from a bottle. Doing really well.

Mom had a biopsy yesterday. The kidney has a ton of fibrosis, which mean that it has a ton of scar tissue that has replaced regular, pliable tissue, making the kidney unusable.  This could be caused by whatever is in the recipient that caused her original kidney to not work. It could be caused by injury due to biological chemicals, diabetes II (does gestational diabetes count?) Bottom line: Mom is being put on dialysis again and being put back on the donor list.

She and I have talked a few times about this possibility, and we both seem to believe the same, but I will just tell my feelings. I know I was told to give this kidney to her. It is not up to me how long her body will use that kidney, but God has always known what would happen and when it would happen.  I really believe that the timing of everything has been miraculous.

I believe that Mom and Dad took this possibility of pregnancy very seriously and brought the decision to God and that he gave her peace. I believe that in HER case it was the right thing to do.  I believe that if she had been given someone else's kidney, she might never have even had this choice. I am very happy that she had this baby.

She won't be getting pregnant again. There's no way the doctors could have known what would happen.  The bulk of her complications were from gestational diabetes and high blood pressure, and I think edema. This might have happened to anyone even with a good original kidney.

I do not mourn my decision. As I learned and mentioned in one of my first posts, it is likely that my recipient will be the recipient of more than just my kidney.  You never know when it will be time for a new kidney.  Maybe this kidney that I carried for 48 years could have lasted another year had she not become pregnant, or maybe 5, but with the blessings of her doctors and having made the decision in prayer, she gave birth and lives, and it's time for God to bless someone else's life by allowing them the privilege of knowing they did something important and made a contribution in this life to assist in blessing someone else.

Sounds Familiar

The kidney started producing urine before it was secured completely in place. My friend, the recipient, has become stronger and stronger in her health from the get-go. It is common for the recipient's body to try to reject a kidney at least once, and possibly a few times, before the first year post-op is complete. This never happened with her. As a matter of fact, she was given the go to get pregnant, and one year and 3-4 months post-op, she did, having never experienced a single rejection!  Three months later, her body recognized the intruder we know as the transplanted kidney, and it tried to reject it for the first time. (First time at a year and six months post-op! Incredible!) The hospital got the situation under control, and the baby and mother are both doing fine.

My friend is now four months pregnant.  I think I have picked up that she is closely monitored by her doctors and has been admitted into the hospital a couple of times, for a couple days each, because the body is trying to reject the kidney.  Again, this is normal even when not pregnant.  It was a miracle the body took as long as it did to reject the kidney the first time. A miracle, because if it had tried to reject it before she got pregnant, she wouldn't have been allowed to get pregnant as soon as she was, and maybe not at all.  P.S. It is a baby girl!

(My restaurant friend who is the recipient of her brother's kidney had desires to become pregnant sometime after the transplant, and her doctors told her that she cannot do that because she will die.)

My own recipient friend's husband got a new job in a town six hours away. They move next week, after only three weeks to pack, put their house up for sale, and make new living arrangements in their new location. Amongst all her hospital visits and packing, she has had to let people walk through to look at her house.

On Facebook, yesterday morning, she had had filled out one of those "getting to know me" list of questions. One of the questions was, "What's your favorite dessert."  She said, "Right now, huckleberry ice cream," then mentioned where she gets it, which happens to be where I work. I knew right then that I really wanted to get her a quart of it.

When I got to work I realized that I had no time to get the huckleberry ice cream to her before it would melt in my car, so I said a prayer asking God to send someone who could deliver the ice cream to her for me.  I laughed at myself for such a silly request, because we have very few common friends, and I have never seen one of them during the hours I worked. I figured if it were important, someone would show up. I was surprised and delighted when two such "someones" showed up a couple hours later!! Coincidence? I don't think so! I knew as soon as I saw them that they were on an errand for the Lord!

This morning I got a text from my friend that said, "You were an answer to my prayer," then it went on to explain that yesterday she was really feeling down. She prayed and mentioned to God that she could really use some help and huckleberry ice cream. Later that day her mom showed up as a surprise (from another state) and then a little later the huckleberry ice cream was delivered!

This reminded me of her mom's and my roles in her life, in general. This friend of mine has had medical problems her whole life. Her mom was there by her side laboring with her, raising her, teaching her, all the dedication moms do.  I had something my friend needed. My role was insignificant in comparison and was only for a short time period in both cases. First, I was keeping her kidney safe in my body until she needed it, and when she did, I gave it to her.  Yesterday I had her ice cream. In both cases the item came from me, but someone else delivered the item from me to her, and in both cases her mom was with her when it was received and enjoyed. These similarities are what hit me hardest with warm fuzzy amazement!

I am also deeply touched with how important each of us is to God. He (and in my opinion, angels) arrange and coordinate several of us to let one of his daughters feel His love.  I don't know how I got lucky enough to be part of this, but I feel so blessed that I was somehow invited!  I love watching his gifts of love unfold in our lives!

One Year Post-Op

Here it is ... one year post-op.

Since April, I decreased another pants size, down to a 3/4. While that is happy, I had promised not to lose weight for a year, so at my 6-month check up I asked the doctor about it. He asked what my pre-op weight was and what my current weight was and said that I was fine. It is normal for the donor to lose some weight for the first year. "But don't worry," he said, "you'll probably gain some of it back at the year mark."

My pooch below my bellybutton is hard for me to explain how it feels. It doesn't hurt. It's more of a sensation. If I press hard and firm it could feel a bit like pushing firmly on a bruise, but with no searing pain, just a pressure discomfort. If I press or rub with my fingers over the skin, I feel like I can feel it both on the surface and underneath, maybe because I am feeling the skin moving around it or maybe because the "numb" part is between. Most of the time I don't feel anything and it doesn't feel "numb" or "tingly", just nothing, unless I am trying to move it around and describe it. The best I can come up with is that it feels like a numb lip after a shot at the dentist. It's that "nothing" sensation, like it's not even there, just a mass. I could do sit ups, no problem, and I'm sure it would tighten it right up, but I don't, so the pooch just sits there like a bag in front of me, probably looser than if it wasn't numb, but who knows, since I'm not doing sit ups, but I do walk!

In the past few months I have been without a vehicle quite a bit. I live in a town where the farthest point is 3 miles. It's amazing how much you can fit into just 3 miles! There is a fantastic bus system that I use often, but I also walk around town a lot, because the farthest I walk (to work) is only 1 1/2 miles, so why not? I have plenty of energy for all the walking. What is always surprising to me is that when I get home and sit for a minute, I almost immediately fall asleep! My adult son asked if it was possible that I was still recovering on the inside. Oh - yep. The exercise is important. So is rest. I love that my body is so willing to do both, as needed.

My scarring. The incision which my kidney was brought through is located at the bikini line. It is so tiny, you can only see it if you know it is there and are on purpose looking for it. It is as fine as a cat's scratch scar. The only exception is less than a half inch in length and located on the right corner. I've never seen it there. It looks tender, but isn't. I am wondering if I have a tiny infection. I am watching it. I just saw it this morning. (Update: It was only swollen and pink that day. Now that part of the scar looks the same as the rest of the scar. No difference.)

My scar at the top of my bellybutton is, again, fine as a cat's scratch and located within my stretch wrinkles, so in order to see it I have to stretch my belly button skin tight, and then have to look really, really closely to find it.

The scar highest, by my diaphragm, is easy to see, but looks more like a discoloration, like a chicken pox scar that is disappearing.

The scar I call my "button" is located about 3 inches above my belly button. It was the most irritating and the thickest from front to back. A blind person would probably feel it and guess it was a mosquito bite. The reddish scar is actually about a half an inch long and runs up and down. I am amazed that even my "button" is melting away! It just looks like sometime in my life I got scratched pretty good and left a scar. Nobody would, on their own, guess that I have had surgery!

For my one year post-op check up, all I had to do was go to my local hospital lab with the orders, pee in a cup, get a couple vials of blood, and have the results sent to the kidney donation coordinators.  I called the coordinator to ask a couple questions, but there was no actual doctor appointment. Apparently all of my test scores are within normal range for 1 year post-op.

I just talked with my recipient. She had great news for me. Next month the doctors are changing her medication, and she will be able to try to get pregnant!!! This is extremely good news! I am so excited for her! Not every recipient gets this opportunity. It just depends on how they are recovering. Apparently she is doing very well!!!

And, this ends one wonderful adventure of a lifetime!

A Better Me

For me, donating my kidney did not feel like a sacrifice from me. I acknowledge the sacrifices of many friends and family that it took to pull this off, but so far I feel that I have gained more than I lost.

First thing everyone wants to know is if I lost weight as a result.  I am pretty sure the kidney only weighs a half pound.  Considering how our weight fluctuates a couple pounds one way or another, depending on all sorts of factors each day, I do not consider losing a kidney to be the reason for my weight loss.  Yes, I have lost weight, and I do believe it is because of this experience, but not because I am missing the weight of a body part.

In December I found out the only test I did not pass with flying colors was my cholesterol test.  I actually laughed out loud when the doctor told me that I had borderline high cholesterol.  My whole life I have stayed away as much as I could from fried foods, high fat content meat, and even milk, simply because I have never liked it.  I must admit, however, that my husband makes some pretty amazing fried potatoes/hash browns. I also have always loved peanut butter with and in many things.  I did research and, although I do not agree with the medical reasoning for cholesterol coming from outside sources, I decided to use it as an excuse (to others and to myself) for changing my diet by cutting out foods I already knew were not in my best interest:  Fried potatoes, peanut butter, cream cheese, deli meats, packaged/processed foods, and donuts.  Three months later, at my month post-op check up, I found out that I had not lost any weight.  That was kinda disappointing, but I was okay with what I looked like, wearing a 10 at 5'7"..

Two months after that weigh-in, my adult son (who hadn't seen me since the operation) commented that I looked like I'd lost some weight.  I thanked him, but assured him I hadn't. The following week a friend of mine made the same comment. I don't have a scale to weight myself, because I find that I get kind of obsessed by it, so I couldn't confirm either way.  The following week I had an occasion that I needed to buy some professional pants.  I have dropped two pants sizes!  I now fit easily into a size 6! Yay, me!

I think there is more, however, that contributed to my weight loss than eating healthier, although eating healthier is no doubt a huge factor. One factor is that my car was totaled and, rather than buy a new car, I have been walking my child to school and back and forth to the grocery store (almost every day, since I can only carry a few bags for a half mile).  Also, my taste buds have changed. I can taste the preservatives in all the food that I should not be eating, and I can only eat a few bites of anything before my stomach is completely done with that particular food in that sitting.

I think another factor is that I have a different sense of self.  Whether I lost weight or not, this new sense of self is so incredibly worth the price of a kidney!  Please remember, I did not donate my kidney so that I could feel like a good person or for kudos or more love or attention. I had hoped I could somehow do it in secret and not let anybody know ... take the secret to my grave. At first, I would have even loved if my receiver-friend had not known.  As it turned out, I'm glad that my wish wasn't granted.

Somehow, I have more self-appreciation. I have appreciation for my body, my looks, my personality, and my worth in general. As a result, I love even more deeply, am happier, and find it even easier to give of myself to others.  I feel like a people-magnet. I can feel people's love and appreciation for me more freely, and I realize that the only thing that has changed was my ability to let it in. I believe that my new sense of self has created the space for physical change.

Normal Activities Resume

After 2 days short of 6 weeks of rest and recovery, with my family who have been so gentle with me, last week was my first week in full activity.

I started work, again, as a teacher's aide and recess aide at an elementary school.  Many kids were excited to see me back at school. They rammed into me in order to give me a big hug.  At that point, just within myself, I though, "Woah - okay, I do have feeling in my stomach."  What I mean is that I was reminded by the ramming that I was still recovering and that if I'm not careful, I could hurt myself.

I worked my full 3 hour and 45 minute shift each day, walked to and from school, and none of it tired me. I cleaned the house, and I even cleaned somebody else's house who is recovering from surgery, and I had no problem picking things up or moving them, but if I noticed that it would take flexing my stomach muscle, I opted to have someone else move it.  I figure if it is suggested that a construction worker stay away from work for 8 weeks, that means there's still some recovery, or mending up, going on.  I have no restrictions anymore, but I think it is wise that I still be careful. I don't want to push it, and end up with a hernia.

A few times in the past week I found myself worrying about this or the other, or feeling upset in some way. At these times, I had an urge to take a long walk. One day I had a big hamburger, and the next day I had a big urge to take a 3 mile walk. That may not be long to you, but it is to me. It was beautiful! It felt great!

I saw a picture of my tiny recipient friend.  She has gained some weight since I saw her last, four weeks ago.  Worried that the kidney I gave her may be failing her, I searched the internet for reasons for gaining weight after renal transplant.  It turns out that 2/3 of renal transplant recipients gain weight after surgery. This happens for a few reasons.  One is that they have such strict diet restrictions while on dialysis that have now been lifted, and everything tastes better. Another is that one of the medications they must take is a steroid. This by itself can cause weight gain, but it was explained online that the steroid makes you hungry all the time, and makes it so that you stay hungry enough to eat more than one serving, and there's not enough activity quite yet to be able to use up the extra calories. Long story short, the kidney is doing just fine, and so is my recipient. She is just in a transition period, adjusting to a freer diet and the side effects of steriods.

Today I noticed that I don't have edema in my stomach anymore.  All I have left is a numbing feeling around my large scar under my belly, and maybe some tenderness to go along with that numbing feeling, but that's it! Two days from now will mark 7 weeks since my surgery.All is well.

3-Week Mark Report

Week 3: My tummy doesn't look pregnant anymore, unless I am sitting a bit inclined, but is still a bit swollen in the same area, under my navel.  That area is more tender to the touch or pressure than before, because of the cut nerves trying to repair, all in the skin. I still don't feel comfortable in jeans, although I can fit in them just fine.

I still cough gingerly and shallowly when I can, but I found out deep, heavy coughs really aren't hurtful either, with tummy muscle support (holding it in tight with my hands or a pillow). Same with sneezing.

I also found that pillow support over that part of my tummy also helps protect me from the skin sensitivity when I think something will rest on, rub, or otherwise disturb my skin.

I had been told by somebody that a strap-on support would really be a relief; however, the surgeon said to not use one, because it could rub off the scabs too early, causing more problems.

I no longer need medicinal help for bowel regularity, nor have I needed Tylenol for pain.

I need to stay away from crowds as much as possible, to avoid possible infections, but I may need to take short trips to the store occasionally during the week while my husband is working out of town.  He will do the shopping on Saturday when he is home.

I think it is time to start walking for exercise. I did walk swiftly for about 2 seconds today, but stopped because the extra bounce on my tummy didn't feel good, so I will still take a slower normal speed. When I say "exercise", what I mean is taking a more distant walk than I can get in my tiny apartment. I will walk my child 4 blocks to school in the morning and then walk home. Not much, but a transition from staying down all day to the treadmill, which I hope to start next week.

Other than these minor tummy symptoms, I feel normal.

2-Week Post-Surgery Check-Up

I was expecting much more at my 2 week post-surgery appointment...labs, urine test, pressing on my belly, meeting with a few from my team, such as my surgeon, physician, and donor coordinator...but it was much simpler than that. There were zero tests, and I saw only one person...my recipient's surgeon.

He came in and said, "You look well. Let's take a look at the incisions....they are doing great. Be sure not to pick at the scabs. They will fall off by themselves. When people start feeling better, they tend to do more than our instruction. You need to be sure not to pick anything up weighing 10 pounds or more. A hernia is the most common complication, often from picking up children, and you don't want a hernia. Are there any questions."

Since everyone was telling me prior to surgery that the recipient recovers faster than the donor, I was expecting it to last the whole recovery.  I suppose, now that I think about it, in the hospital my recipient felt great and enjoying complete meals, while I kept myself to saltine crackers, gelatin, and soup. That would be the only way I could think that fit this expectation.

I asked why I feel great and walk standing up, while my recipient looked sleepy and walked hunched over. (I saw her just the day previous.). He said the sleepiness is probably a side effect of the anti-rejection medicine she is taking, but the sleepiness will wear off as she gets used to them. I learned later that her staples (which were removed at the same time as my doctor visit) pulled as she stood up which made her hunch, but with the staples gone she could stand up straight.

I told the surgeon that I was expecting so much more pain than I experienced, and asked if I am a lucky exception or if what I have experienced (very little pain, or discomfort, really) is normal. He said that I was very normal. That is VERY good news!

I then asked about my liquid-laden belly.  He said that was normal and part of the healing process. I should expect it to continue for another month. He said the liquid gathers to a place of least resistance. No surprise to me that this part of my body, having carried seven babies, followed by no exercise greater than walking, would be the place of least resistance. I don't know if it is least resistant to everyone. I didn't think to ask.

Except for the initial nurse taking my temperature, blood pressure, and oxygen with the finger clip, that's it.  10 minutes, no poking or prodding, nobody else.  Easy-peasey.

I have been faithfully taking 1/2 hydrocodone and 1 Tylenol every 4 hours since trying to wean myself last week.  I forgot to bring my meds on my trip to my appointment. When I got home 7 hours later, I realized I wasn't hurting, so thought maybe I don't need them any more. At midnight as I was about to go to sleep I did feel a little burning. Not enough burning to warrant meds normally, but I didn't want to test it when I ought to be sleeping. I won't be taking any more hydrocodone, I don't think. I will see if Tylenol will do the job, but will only take it when and if I feel actual need.

The only things I need to do the rest of my life are drink at least 8 cups of water each day, exercise, stay away from ibuprofen and high sodium and medicinal herbs, eat healthy and balanced meals including protein (it doesn't specify any particular protein source), and take my blood pressure each month.

2nd Week of Recovery

Day 8: I have felt so good, I could say that I have no pain. I talked to my transplant coordinator today and told her this. She said that they have found this kind of recovery to happen mostly to women who have given birth. Since I have given birth seven times, I suppose I do fit into that category.

I thought today to take Tylenol instead of any hydrocodone. With this experiment I learned that probably I ought to keep taking hydrocodone for a bit longer. The pain wasn't too much, but took three doses to bring back to no burning.

I also had an epiphany. That's right, I have to have an ah-hah moment to put two and two together. This just may explain quite a bit why I have almost zero pain.  You see, all of my pain, or burning, rather, is within a fist sized area on the right side of my belly.  The rest of my belly is numb, similar to when a foot falls asleep. I would imagine that if I had full feeling, I would be feeling this same pain and/or burning across my whole belly.  That would likely be harder for me to bear than just the small portion I now feel. Therefore, I must remember that my body is recovering and deserves rest and treated with tenderness, regardless of how I think I am feeling.

Tonight I made another discovery. (Here, I was expecting today to be a dull day, without reason to post.). The glue with which my incisions were sealed is starting to peel off. This will be interesting.  I am a picker, but was warned not to pick at its edges. They itch. I hope angels will help keep my hands from doing so in my sleep.

Day 9: Maybe it is because of yesterday's "epiphany", or maybe not, but today I have been more aware of feeling of unease across my whole belly and emotionally.  Neither is pain, just as if a warning. I hope it is not of pain to come, but just a warning to be aware and take it easy and realize that my body is recovering from a major event, and I need to be careful not to forget that and give it proper time to heal.

Day 10: Today was a nice day. I took a 15 minute walk outside with my mom. I made a goal to drink 8 cups of water. I made my goal. I noticed that the past couple of days the water no longer tastes nasty. I think possibly the medicine was altering my taste buds. Water tasted metallic. Not any more, thankfully.

I notice more feeling across my belly. I would even say it feels tender. The skin felt prickly, like my foot does as it wakes up from being numb-like asleep. Underneath the skin it aches, as though working up to an infection. I keep expecting it to look red or feel hot to the touch, but am both surprised and relieved to find neither. Hopefully it is only normal feelings of this stage of healing.

The itching at my incisions can get quite intense, but simply putting my hand firmly and gently over the area seems to satisfy it.

I have noticed that laughing, sneezing, coughing (although I still cough very gingerly), and moving positions on stomach muscle power hurts very little. I wouldn't even call it hurt.  I might feel a quick twang when moving positions that says "I would have preferred you use your arms a little more still", and I can feel a bit of, I don't know whether to call it stress or tenderness, something in my stomach (when engaging in those other spontaneous fits) between noticing it and barely discomfort, just as it it's saying, "Hi, I'm here for you. I'm working."

Day 11: I debated whether I ought to write this next entry. I decided that it might feel a bit like TMI, but for a woman it is important information.  Today I started my period. That is important because for one, it may explain why I felt a bit emotional a couple days ago, rather than a looming infection. Also, it's good to know that our bodies, or at least my body, did not stop working from shock or something. It's not a big deal. I feel relatively normal, so it was no more a hassle than any other month. I must admit, however, that every month I have almost zero symptoms. No cramping, generally no tender emotions ... I was just looking for any possible symptom connected with the healing of the surgery. I am very lucky.

Day 12: I haven't been wearing anything but jammies. It helps to remind me (and others) that my place and business is recovering, whatever I look or feel like on the outside. Also, I have been nervous about putting any elastic or other waistline on my belly or across my scabbed incisions. Today I wore leggings ... the kind meant to be worn as pants. Not jeggings, but a stretchier material, black and has small zippers and decoration on it. It was surprisingly comfortable. The waistline went over my belly, but also pulled everything in tight-ish without making me uncomfortable.

Day 13: In the morning my belly looks normal, but within 15 minutes of getting up out of bed, body water gathers between my navel and large scar in the bikini area. It continues to gather throughout the day, so that by the time I retire to bed at night I look like I have a stomach to exercise off. As I touch my belly, it is both tender (which means I feel something, even if it is a little uncomfortable) and numb. Other than that I feel quite normal.

I feel like I ought to be able to get up and do whatever. I feel a little foolish when people do things for me that I feel like I should be doing myself. Ever since I got home, I eat my meals at the dining table. After eating, I handwash my plate, silverware, and glass.  Just my own.  Today I saw maybe 5 place settings in the sink... a very small load, and decided that I ought to do them, rather than leaving them up to my mom.  I was surprised that it takes so much muscle to wash such a small load of dishes that weren't even heavy dishes. Just the movement of my arms along with holding the items to wash was enough.

Honestly, probably almost everybody I know wouldn't care and would do a little housework anyway, proving to themselves and others that they can do it. However, I want to be sure that I heal the right way the first time, without taking risks, no matter how small I think they may be. I can see why I had been warned by the doctor and by friends that come about the second week I will feel like I ought to be doing more, but I would have to remember to stay down, because although the outside of me feels fine, the inside of me is still recovering and should not be strained. The doctor said that carrying a gallon of milk is more than he wants me to do for the first six weeks.  I don't feel like I'm making excuses. I feel like I am being smart by following their advice to a better recovery.

Day 14: I feel fine, strong, and well. I feel like I have been living a cliche' affirmation, "I am healthy and strong, and each day I feel better and better." Tomorrow marks 2 weeks since surgery. The next day is my 2 week appointment. The following day my parents leave to return to their home in another state. I can't believe it's done. Well, my recovery isn't finished, as I still have 4 more weeks to go, but the fact that I have had surgery to remove one of my kidneys to give to my friend....the surgery happened, with almost no effort on my part.  On one hand it was a big enough deal that it involved many people. On the other hand, I almost feel like it was an alien abduction. I fell asleep and woke up the next day with mysterious cuts on my stomach. Other than those cuts and the waterbag stomach, I feel no different than normal. I acknowledge that it took the effort of many people (and hydrocodone pills) for it to feel this way, but I feel like this has been so easy. Removing a body part shouldn't feel this easy, but I am grateful for it.

Those First Few Days' Recovery At Home

1st day at home:  Feeling great. Ate soup with a little more sustenance, spicy (to my tongue) chicken taco soup.  I took a risk. I figured it is possible the spiciness and beans could help wake up my bowels. If not, I could have set myself up for more nausea. Yay! My risk was good, and (TMI, but so important) I tooted! One more milestone met. I won't bore you with my results, but you might like to know that in my discharge kit, they gave me an automatic blood pressure kit and trained me how to use it. I am to keep a record as I take my blood pressure twice daily. I am to bring my list to my 2 week appointment.

In the evening, I noticed quite a bit of red around my largest incision. Also, I am bloated enough to look a good 5 months pregnant. The nurse suggested milk of magnesia or suppositories for relief from bloating and possible constipation. As far as the redness goes, if I spike a fever higher than 101 or have discharge with nasty odor, they want to see me, but for now I should just watch.

2nd day at home: Since I was up standing, walking, or sitting much more than resting in bed yesterday, I am thinking that possibly I pushed myself a little too far. I felt just fine, but maybe because I was somewhat active, my body couldn't use all its strength to fix me.

For this reason, I decided to be in bed today, except for meals, medicine and bathroom. I have been able to pass quite a bit of gas, but I think my newly awake bowels are still groggy, because by morning my tummy was pretty normal, by afternoon I looked a good 5 months, maybe pushing 6 months, pregnant. The red around the incision doesn't appear to have increased. No fever.

I had forgotten to mention this discovery yesterday, and because it is more obvious today, I will mention that my belly below my belly button level, and especially from my center to left side, feels asleep! I have heard that it will take about 2 years for all the nerves to reattach and I get all my feeling there back.

3rd day at home: I feel so good, I feel like I must be taking advantage of my parents; however, I know that in order for me to recover right, I need to take it easy, even if I am feeling well.

I still look pregnant, but not as much as I did yesterday.

Not much to report. It was a good day.

4th day at home: Today marks one week since the operation. I no longer look pregnant; instead I look like I am pushing my tummy out as hard as I can to say 'look, I look pregnant'.

I am SO glad that I religiously took my stool softener and, last couple of days, milk of magnesia. I finally passed this important milestone (bowels working properly again), and I don't want to know how it would have been without those two meds.

I feel zero pain, almost no burning, and sometimes my scabs itch. I thought I would find out if I really do have zero pain, or if the hydrocodone was doing a great job. This morning I took half of my pain medicine and one Tylenol. That seemed to be enough. I decided to wait until my body tells me it is time for more meds before taking more. According to my schedule, I missed my last pill 2 1/2 hours ago. I still have no pain. I am a little sleepy, which I believe is my body's way to tell me it wants me to slow down further so it can fix me faster, but no pain.... Update: I just felt my first indication that it would be good to take my pain meds again, tight muscles and burning incision...7 hours after my last dose, instead of 4.

Third Day Post-Op

Really, really good.  When I take walks, I do 3 laps, standing up straight, and increasing speed. I have a patch behind my ear for anti-nausea, as well as anti-nausea oral pills. They seem to be working.

Still no movement of my bowels, nor gurgle sounds coming from them. Until I toot, I will remain suspicious of another looming nausea episode. Come on, bowels, you can do it! I know you can!

I could keep down my jello, tomato basil soup, white dinner roll, and chocolate chip cookie today. Yay for tastes and textures! My last meal will be portobello ravioli with tomato sauce, tomato basil soup, two dinner rolls, and for dessert...berries and vanilla yogurt. That all sounds so yummy. I am really looking forward to it. I hope my tummy agrees. :)

I am checking out of the hospital tonight around 6:30.  I find it ironic that my friend has been looking forward to checkout and returning home today, but she needs to stay one more day. I would love to stay one more night in the hospital, but I have run out of good excuses to do so.

Second Day After Operation Day

Hard day. Period. The end.

That is all I had planned to say, but that doesn't exactly paint a clear picture of what my worst day looked like.

I had great sleep the night before, only being woken up every two hours or so this time. My first indication that this would not be my best day was when I went to the bathroom. Coming back to bed, my incisions were burning! The burning created soreness across my whole belly. The soreness wasn't really different from the day before, but the burning sensation seemed to lower my ability to cope. I cried.

My breakfast came. I had one bite. My mouth said "yum," but my throat warned me of upcoming nausea, should I try that again. I took a sip of water. Yuck! It tasted like plastic! My empty mouth tasted like copper. I ate a third of my lunch potato soup and a third of my banana. I was not on a restricted diet by the doctor, but by my body. When dinner came, every smell was nauseous to me, even the smell of the cookie.

One of my closest friends came to visit me. I loved that, but I felt bad that I couldn't be happy for her. Of course, she wasn't expecting me to be anything but in serious pain, so she wasn't disappointed by my feeling sick, but I was.

My first indication that I was going to get sick is when I have zero desire to smile. That could last a while. Then I lack desire to talk at all. Instead, should someone ask me anything, I simply look at them. Then nausea hits, fast and hard. You know how yucky it feels just before throwing up because of a stomach flu. Now times the intensity by 10. This nausea is horrible, horrible.

The outcome is no longer burps. It's full on heaves that either produces the last meal (potato soup doesn't smell too bad coming up, thank goodness), or stomach acid, or nothing. VERY IMPORTAT INFO: it is much, much easier to throw up sitting in a normal chair than in a bed, even if the bed is created into a chair!

The nurse gave me anti-nausea meds. They didn't work.

Nausea and the following stomach cramps after throwing up pretty much summed up my worst day. That, and staring into numbing nothingness.

Ooh, but I did learn something valuable. Coughing and throwing up are much more comfortable (if you can even call it that) if you are already in an upright sitting position.

First Day Post-Op

My spirit was pretty high. Not because of narcotic pain killers, but because recovery from kidney donation was MUCH easier than I had anticipated.  I wasn't loopy at all, nor felt like I was being dragged through intense misery and wo, which is what I was expecting for the first whole week.

The surgeon and his transplant staff came in to answer any questions I had. I thought it was funny that they kept complimenting me for doing such a great job in surgery. Yah, because sleeping was really hard work! Haha.

The narcotic pain medications didn't take all the pain away, but the pain I experienced was manageable.  It felt to me much like the after-birth pains women experience as their uterus clamps down the days after a birth, only the cramping didn't come and go, but stayed steady. It was also higher than the after birth pains. This ache was across my belly side-to-side on a muscle between my ribs and my belly button.

The nurse had certain milestones for me. To me, that is an assignment, if I want to get an A, so I made it my goal to meet each milestone that was set out for me.

The catheter was taken out, and I learned how to get out of bed and walk to the toilet and pee in a plastic hat held in place by the toilet seat. When I was finished, I pulled a string to let the attendant know they could measure and chart how much had come from me. Those were two milestones completed. Check and check.

I was disconnected from the oxygen tube. Check.

Another milestone was to take my medicine orally, rather than through the IV. Check that off, they took that portion of IV off. The kept my IV in to put fluids through me and clear my kidney, but no more regularly dripping meds in it.

The other was to get me walking the halls four times a day. My first attempt, I was super dizzy at first, then I felt nauseated, but I was determined to take that walk. When I got to the door of my room the nausea hit really hard! The physical therapists told me they were taking me back to my bed. The feeling of nausea went away, probably with a few burps.

The reason walking is so important is that it helps to wake up the bowels. The nurse said that if I could toot, the nausea would no longer be a problem, because everything would be heading south, like normal.  Once or twice a day the nurses listen to my bowel, but my bowels are not making a sound.

My second walk, my personal goal was to walk two doors down, because that is where the physical therapist said is the most distance people get their first time. Well, when I got two doors down, I realized that my friend was only 5 doors away, so I went to pay her a visit. On the way back to my room, my stomach muscles were getting tired.

My third walk took me all around the hallway block, and the fourth was two laps. I felt accomplished.

Two of my closest friends paid me a visit that day. I loved their visits! Toward the end of the day I made three comments:
"If this is what I feel like with Lortab in my system, I don't want to find out how it feels without the Lortab."
"If this is my worst day, then recovery as donor is a breeze!"
"I really don't want to go home tomorrow, because this was such a good day, I wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow ends up being the worst."
I called it!

Operation Day

I finally felt the feeling of nervous. It came in spurts. The first sput was when we drove on the highway around the bend that would mark the beginning of the city the hospital was in. That lasted about 5 minutes.  The second spurt was when we were within view of the hospital. That lasted for about 15 minutes, until I was admitted into the hospital.

Actually, we were meeting my husband, and I was talking on the phone with him. He asked if I was nervous yet. My response, "yes. Either that or I am really excited,". We laughed at that, but seeing my inside shakes like that made a big difference in our attitude. If you think about it, nervous and excited have the same symptoms. It is the thoughts attached to them that causes us to interpret how we feel as one or the other.

The next spurt of shaky inside was when I realized that time had flown, and my operation time was in only 20 minutes. That lasted only about three minutes. My last spurt was 5 minutes before operation time. That lasted only a minute, ending when we were told it would be another hour or so.  It was 2 hours and 15 minutes later, but I decided being nervous was a waste of energy.

My family was invited into my private waiting room. I was in my hospital gown and laying in bed, waiting to be wheeled into the operating room. The nurse put a soft air pad with warm air flowing through it and a thin blanket that covered it on me. She started an IV into the backside of my left hand and started a fluid which prepared my kidney somehow. About an hour later she added a calming drug. I didn't notice any difference in how I felt, but it is true that I wasn't nervous when she wheeled me into the operating room.

I remember being wheeled up next to a table or bed. I remember two huge lights above, two people I could see, and one walking across the room. I remember asking if I would be climbing onto the table myself and if they would warn me before I was put out. Both answers were "yes". The next thing I remember is dreaming about cartoon bears in bubbles, then being woken up.

Apparently one of the drugs they gave me was an amnesia drug to keep my short term memory from becoming long term memory, which helps with a sense of peace. They later told me that I was fully awake for moving to the table and also when they told me they would be putting me out.

I slept in the recovery room for about a half hour after surgery before waking up. The male attending nurse woke me up by talking to me. I started asking a bunch of questions, but he didn't answer, and instead turned to make a report about me to another nurse. I was sad that apparently he thought I was just mumbling in my half asleep stage, which was confirmed when he told her I was still really groggy. I then heard him tell her one of my arteries was cut. At that time, all my previous questions, except my inquiries about my recipient, were gone, and I was content to believe I really was just mumbling nonsense. I was more curious about my report.

It turns out that this doesn't happen very often, but in my case an artery was nicked, and I lost about a cup of blood. That is not enough for a blood transfusion, but they wanted to check my hemoglobin and hematocrit levels every 4 hours. After faithfully testing about 5 times, my counts went up at the first test, and were found stabilized for the next several tests.

I have three 1-inch incisions (varying sizes) for their camera and tools, each cut side to side, all lined up (one above another) in the center of my abdomen under my ribs, stomach, and above my belly button. Then I have a six inch incision near the bikini fold, so it looks like a cesarean section scar, maybe a bit smaller, where the surgeon inserted his hand and guided the kidney out.

For the surgery I had a breathing tube, but was lucky enough to not have a sore throat from it. They did leave a clip on my nose to assist with oxygen. I had a catheter. I also had a button to push for dripping pain medication into my IV, no less than every half hour and no more than once every 5 minutes. It was a controlled narcotic.

I never felt loopy. I was as talkative as ever with all my silly ways of communicating. I was very clear, and very me, although quieter.

The Last 24 Hours

Today is Monday, the day before the transplant. I had 6 vials of pre-op lab tests completed last week in the town I live in, and I needed another to be done today in the hospital the operation will take place. I was expecting one, or maybe three. I was surprised to find I had 12 vials taken today and a urine test! They were just checking for any last minute concerns. For instance, if they found that I had a urinary tract infection, they would need to be sure to give both of us antibiotics. They took a test to find out if I was pregnant. They will be taking another tomorrow when I check in.

This lab technician also did not want to use a butterfly. She was nice. She gave me the same reason for not using a butterfly as my lab technician did last week. The needle and tube that are part of the butterfly that the blood would transfer through are so tiny, it is basically coming one drop at a time, and there is a real danger that the blood could start clotting.

I'm glad that she was doing my last series of blood tests, because when she poked me IT HURT. She did a pretty good job changing the vials, but the whole time I could feel the needle down to my elbow. :(

I am still not nervous, that I am aware of ... at least not on a conscious level.  I am waiting for it to hit. I was thinking about this while traveling home from the hospital, and I think part of the reason I am not nervous is that my husband, parents, children, friends, and more friends are supportive and helping a lot and have everything all lined up and taken care of.  I am SO appreciative of all that they are doing. I know I originally wanted to try to get away with doing this secretly, but I had no idea what encouragement and relief and sense of peace would come from those who are helping me.

On top of that, there are lots of people praying for my friend and me. I feel so loved. She has friends and family that have never met me praying for me, and I have friends and family who have never met her praying for her.  I haven't even asked. For instance, my aunt in another state called and asked when the operation is and what the name of my friend who would be receiving my kidney. She wrote her name down then told me, I will be praying for both of you, and so will my ladies' group at church. That is so SWEET!

There are still great friends of mine (and even family) that don't know about this. I struggle whether to tell them or not. I want them to know that I love them and care about them enough to let them know important things that happen in my life. On the other hand, if I don't tell them, it is likely they could continue in their life not knowing, but if they find out in the future through the grapevine, I don't want them to feel unimportant to me. I would not be telling them so that I can get praise or to ask them to do anything for me or even to get attention. I just want them to feel part of my life, if that is what makes them feel loved. Honestly, I wouldn't be offended if I found out something later, but I would have wanted to know while it was happening rather than after it was finished.

I am excited for my friend receiving my kidney. I hope she feels great and is able to take opportunities that she hasn't been able to up until now. I don't have any expectations for her, me, or us. I will be fascinated to know what happens in both of our lives after tomorrow.  I think she is a marvelous woman, a powerful woman, and just all around wonderful. I am glad we are friends. I am also glad that we became friends months before I offered. This is so not about me, but I am honored to have my experience with her. This is about her, about our wonderful friends and family, and about God and his love for his children.

I check into the hospital at 9:30 a.m., and our surgery is scheduled for 11:00 a.m.  Here we go! :D <3

The Week Before Surgery

People always want to know how I'm doing. Am I still excited? Or am I nervous? My friend (and angel) asked my daughter this about me, and my daughter replied with, "She seems to be still excited." My angel friend said, "Yah. She's nervous."

Really, when I am awake I feel zero fear about the surgery. Once in a while I feel something deep inside me that I recognize as probably fear, but I remember my faith and reasoning, and I don't feel it at all anymore.  However, I am aware that stress can show up in the body, so I have been watching.

I can sleep like a baby on concrete, although I prefer a softer surface. I have never had problems with sleep comfort until about 10 days before this surgery, when for 2 days I woke up with my back muscles hurting like crazy in the morning and all that day! It has been a couple of days since, and although I don't wake up hurting like that, even in my sleep I can feel myself toss and turn as though I am deeply disturbed about something.  Then, this morning I noticed that I have a yeast infection deep in my belly button! It doesn't itch. I just laughed! I love my body and how it communicates with me! It is doing a great job! I suppose the "myriad of changing emotions" I was told I would likely go through is taking form on the inside more than the outside.

Today is Wednesday, and the surgery is next Tuesday. I had some pre-op labs done today, and I get to do one more set next Monday. They would have completed all of them today, had I been able to get to the lab in the hospital I will be having the surgery at, but I couldn't, so I did as much as I could at a lab in a hospital in my own town. Only the sample or test next Monday (one day before surgery) does the hospital doing the surgery have to complete themselves.

I found out that today my recipient friend also had pre-op labs. We are retaking tests we have already passed, just in case anything has changed since our last test and we have recently been unknowingly exposed to anything that could cause this transplant to fail or transfer a disease.  With the tests I took today, they are tissue typing again and testing for certain transmittal diseases. 6 vials this time. This lab technician chose not to use a butterfly. I was nervous about the changing of vials, but she promised this was her specialty. Turns out, she was really very good!

Something I was not expecting at all is how people are offering to support me. I still haven't told anybody, unless there is either a need or they ask me. Those who know, though, are excited and praying for us (my recipient friend and I).  My recipient friend and my angel friend have a list of people who want to bring meals to my family when it is needed, whether it be when we return home from the hospital or after my parents return to their home and I'm left alone with my children. (My husband works in another town during the week and comes home to be with us on the weekends. He is very helpful, but not as much when he is away at work.)

These offers make me feel loved and cared for, and I will take them up on their offers if there is a need, because I believe in taking care of myself and healing right the first time, without taking any risk of hurting myself by trying to prove how together I am. I won't take advantage. If I do that, then when there is a real need, help may not be as accessible when I need. I am truly grateful for their offers and to know that help is only a phone call away!

FAQ and Not So FAQ

Q: Did you know that it hurts the donor much more than the recipient, because everything gets bruised in the donor, something is removed, and they go from feeling healthy their whole life to not functioning optimally, which they aren't used to, while the recipient feels healthy and energy almost immediately after a life of weakness?
A: Yes. I first heard it from speaker John Bytheway on his tape 16 years ago. I appreciate his humor, but I hope to have a more peaceful recovery with very little laughing.

Q: Did she try her family members first?
A: Yes, but her sister wasn't compatible.

Q: With all that you know about health, why not try something less extreme than surgery and teach her how to gain health through herbs and diet?
A: While what mainstream calls "alternative" health, I call conservative and God's first choice, I also believe that the medical field is full of miracles and inspiration from God. God was very specific in his instruction to me. "Donate to her," and I do not believe it is my place to change his instruction to teaching anybody He did not instruct me to.

Q: Are you confident she will respect your kidney?
A: Firstly, once I give it to her, it is not my kidney, but hers. A true gift should not have strings attached.
Secondly, God instructed me to give this to her. I trust Him, I don't question Him or put my own limits on.
Thirdly, if it truly makes you feel better, I have every confidence in her respecting her new kidney in an effort to get as much milage as possible from it. My tiny friend doesn't put harmful substances into her body, she tends toward more natural and healthy foods and cleaners. I have full faith in her.

Q: What if one of your children or husband needs kidney in the future?
A: The likelihood of that happening is slim to none. There is no known history in my family nor my husband's family of even passing a kidney stone.
The most violent activity our family has participted in thus far is Ballroom dance, closely followed by marching band. The only possibility is a high adventure boy scout activity, which so far has consisted of canoeing, or downhill skiing, which each person has had no more than 2 opportunities so far.
However, should a need arise, I think I will have set a good example for my children and family members to follow, providing this does continue to be a positive experience. There are 7 children of mine, 6 blood aunts and uncles of theirs, and 17 cousins. If none of them desire to donate, my child will go on the waiting list just like everyone else does.

Q: What keeps you excited about this?
A: Anticipating seeing color in her face, giving her a chance to dance again, and the possibility that my tiny friend will have time to have children to be a great mom to.

Q: What if her body never accepts your kidney or she dies during surgery?
A: I will feel sad for her, but feel good knowing that I did what I could to help. In death, I will mourn the loss of my friend, but it wouldn't be my fault, nor my gift that caused it. I am confident she won't die, but no matter what happens I will feel comfort in knowing God has a plan and he trusted me to be part of it, so whatever happens has reason maybe only God will understand.

Q: What did you find out about your own health through all of these tests?
A: While I was doing the tests, I worried a bit about what if we found something that would keep me from getting insurance, while at the same time knowing that if something is found that it would be a blessing to find out in its earliest stages. Now I know for sure that I don't have diabetes, heart problems (both run in my family), cancers or venereal diseases (both of which would have caused me to fall off my seat with surprise), and I don't have a horseshoe shaped kidney like my mom does. There is a lot of comfort knowing for sure that I have been proven healthy. I did laugh out loud when I found out that I have borderline high cholesterol. All that means is I now have a doctor's recommendation, a good excuse, and a higher resolve to eat the way I have wanted to for years, but now I will be considered wise rather than borderline extreme.

Q: Aren't you scared of all that pain and elective major surgery?
A: Not really. Don't get me wrong, I am a baby when it comes to pain. However, I have kind of a masochistic anticipation for this. I have never had surgery, other than removal of my wisdom teeth. I will have scars with a great story, except that the clothes I wear will always cover them, even my bathing suit. My sisters warned me from experience that scars on the trunk don't ever completely feel normal, but always are a bit uncomfortable. Well, I have been warned, and I know God has chosen this path for me, and I hope I can always be grateful to him for this honor.

What Those With Experiece Say

I have yet to talk to either a donor or receiver personally. (Correction: about a week before my surgery, a restaurant manager talked to us about her experience as a kidney receiver. More at the bottom of this page.) I have talked with members from three different families who watched the results.

The first is a friend in my church congregation in another city whose 20 year old son woke up one day and decided to donate his kidney to a stranger he had never met before who was on the top of the transplant waiting list. She said he was in a lot of incredible pain, and it was hard for a mother to watch and not be able to take that pain and nausea away. She said 24/7 care is needed for at least 2 weeks, and don't plan on going back to work or normal activities for at least a month. She said that they kept asking if it was still worth it to him, and his answer was always the same, "absolutely", and he would do it all over again!

The second is a friend in my current church congregation. Several of her family members have given or received kidneys through transplant, so she is appreciative of transplantation. Her grandmother received a kidney in her early sixties and lived on that same kidney for 20 years, passing away in her eighties from other causes, with the same kidney still functioning.

The third is my best friend of 12 years, whom I hadn't told about my plans for kidney donation until two nights ago (2 weeks before surgery) in an effort to find a place near the hospital for my parents to stay. Her brother donated a kidney to her sister back in June. It took many more months than he had expected for the pain to go away to the point where he felt somewhat normal. Christmas, 6 months later, was the first time he mentioned finally feeling okay. He also mentioned that he felt better than he has ever felt.

About a week before the transplant my husband and I were at a restaurant, and the store manager came over to say hi. She told us that a year ago her brother gave her his kidney.  She said that, while you usually hear that the donor has a harder recovery than the receiver, in their case it was the opposite.  She said that she was so deplete of energy, that after transplant she had almost nothing to draw from to help her recover. She returned to work just short of 2 months later. Her brother, however, felt great. He was up and out of the hospital in 2 days, and in about 2 weeks he went back to work at a computer in an office. He hadn't been an exerciser before surgery, but after surgery he started exercising, and in just a few months he ran his first marathon. She also mentioned that before the surgery she was always on the cold side and he was always just a little too warm. After the surgery they seemed to have switched core temperature comfort levels.

All the medical sites mention that almost always the donors said it was worth it and they would do it all over again. I just found this link today online with testimonials from donors, and it makes me happy, called Rocking 1 Kidney. http://www.rock1kidney.org/donor-stories-2/

Emotionally

My husband is skeptical of this surgery, but he is supportive. He is worried about how it will affect us. To him, there is always a catch, and no one ever tells you the complete truth, so he is suspicious. However, he is supportive of my electing this surgery, but with his eyes wide open.

I knew I would need help for the first two weeks of recovery. I called my mom and dad, who live in another state, and told them I was calling to see if they would be able to help me, as I am choosing to have surgery to donate a kidney to my friend and need someone to take care of me from the time I am released from the hospital until my 2 week post-op appointment. Apparently, that news creates shock, but once they had some time to process what I had just said, they communicated their support. They probably would rather I not do something as drastic as elective surgery to remove a body part, but they support my decision for this worthy cause, and they will be here when I go into surgery and take care of me for the next couple of weeks.

I found out through a short grapevine that my 7 year old just matter-of-factly told a friend that his mom was going to die. I told him that God told me to do this, and I don't believe He would be asking for that kind of sacrifice. The statistics are one donor death in 30,000 transplants; however, it is always a possibility, and if for some reason I do die, I truly believe it was part of God's plan for me to die at that very time. Don't worry, I won't die, but if I do, know that it was my time, and you will be okay, and I will be with you.

I have let people know about this surgery only on an as needed basis. At first I wanted it to be a secret. I had hoped to get away with this surgery without anyone knowing. Then I realized that is not fair to my tiny friend (and hopeful recipient), and it was equally not fair to my parents. So, no more is it a secret, nor have I posted it on Facebook. I am surprisingly private. I have no problem telling anybody anything if they ask or I feel there is a need, but other than that I just see no reason to tell people. I am not doing this for an excuse to be taken care of or so that people like me more or anything like that, so why cause stress in anyone's life?

The day I mailed in my application, the rest of the day I felt heroic. I knew it would pass, and it did, but I allowed myself that moment. It wasn't my reason for donating, and it came as a surprise, but I figured it is one of the myriad of changing emotions I would experience, so I just let it happen without judgement on it. The next morning it was gone, but my feeling about my reason for surgery had altered. Now I was excited for my tiny friend, and I felt honored to be allowed to serve her in this way.

I had decided that if I was not a match for her, I would donate in behalf of her in a donor match, also known as a chain. If I was rejected for her because the panel didn't believe my motives were pure (or if they thought she was coercing me, which she wasn't) I knew God knows all and had a purpose for my doing this, so I would either wait and offer my kidney to her next summer after I hadn't worked with her for 6-8 months, and if that didn't work out I would offer live donation for the next person on the waiting list. I am committed to this! 

After experiencing the panel's concerns for my health first, I have changed my drivers license status as organ donor at death.

The hardest thing for me to face was the Advance Directive, papers I need to fill out about who will be my voice and what my wishes are, should I become permanently damaged and kept alive by machines, unable to communicate and even unable to recognize my loved ones. I don't really want to look at the possibility in the face.  If death occurred or a situation like this, that could possibly turn my family, possibly others, and maybe several generations against organ donation or worse, against God. Also, you can't predict all the possibilities of what could go wrong. Who could I trust to understand me enough to make the decision I would make? You would think my husband is first choice, then my mom is second. However, there are things I will not mention in this blog for my choice to choose someone who would lose less than a wife or daughter. I chose someone else, with both of their support in this decision. Someone who loves me to pieces, understands me probably better than anyone else besides my daughter (whom I would never make do this), but who could remove himself enough to pull off my wishes and, if needed, talk to his father and grandparents and make a balanced and smart decision. My oldest son, who is 25 years old.

With every test, I felt a stronger and stronger desire, almost a desperate desire, that I pass for my tiny friend's sake. I feared that the panel of surgeons and social workers wouldn't let me do this for her, because she was my boss, and they said they couldn't prove there was no coercion. I quit my job, because I was going to anyway after her surgery, which would hopefully now be mine as well. Toward the very end of all the tests, I emotionally HAD to pass them for her. I wouldn't know how to tell her, if I didn't pass a test.

I passed them all!!! The panel decided my reasons for donation are altruistic, my kidneys are normally shaped, and I have no cancer, heart issues, or infectious diseases! I was giddy when I got the news!!! I squeeled and jumped up and down like a tween girl!!! I happy danced!!! I was hyper all day!!! I was so happy and relieved for her!

I wanted to tell her in a couple of days which was her birthday, but how could I keep that info away? So I texted her when I found out, at about 7 am. Later that day I went in to my former work to buy something. Turns out that WAS her birthday!!!! I am so happy that I did not wait!!!

Now that I am looking at surgery in 2 weeks, there's a small part of me somewhere inside that is becoming a bit nervous.  It seemed to start after I read about 3 donors whose health were affected for the worse for the rest of their life, but I find comfort in knowing that even they don't regret donation and would do it over again.