02.19.12

twenty-four

Two full years already!  Actually it was last month, but I was stricken with a severe case of sloth.

Its hard to believe I’ve already burned two full years off of my fifty-year/7000000 mile warranty.  Even the scar has healed up nicely.  All that surgery and hospitals and doctors were at least 15000 pills ago.

In all of this I am ever reminded that I will never fully grasp the debt of thanks I owe.    I am so very thankful for…

… people that I have never met and may yet never meet that have prayed for us and encouraged us; unknown yet deeply appreciated.

… those who rose early in the morning, long before sun-up to voluntarily drive me across the city and back  for only the few minutes it took to have my blood drawn.  This not once or twice but multiple times, and without hesitation.  Friends, and friends of friends (now friends), and family and extended family that braved the morning darkness.

… those who followed this blog and prayed for us and left notes to encourage us.

… those that shared their counsel and experience with us, having themselves walked this road before.  Both donor and recipient giving to us the encouragement needed to face this momentary struggle.  How good to hear their stories and have the joy of their company.

… those who cared for us in our home during the days and weeks of our recovery.  Fetching coffee and making sure we didn’t tilt too far and washing clothes and running to the store and making lunch and just sitting with us when we were really not that fun to sit with.  Patient souls indeed.

… those who actually got paid to care for us, but didn’t act like it.  For doctors and nurses and technicians and housekeeping staff and administrative staff that carefully saw to it that we were not just transplant number 812.  For answering a lot of questions and helping us understand what we were facing at each step of the process.  For bringing our family updates while we were still asleep.  For surgeons that may have done this hundreds of times, but remain relentless in performing each one with technical precision.  For nurses named Jim and Sarah and Regan and Spencer and more beside, who last semester may have been trying to locate “neck” on an anatomy test, but were now confidently extracting an IV from my carotid artery (shudder).

… ice chips.

… those who stopped by with or mailed words of encouragement along the road of recovery.

… those who prepared and delivered the most amazing dinners to our home.  Friends and co-workers and family who saw to it that we had no shortage things to eat for nearly a month.  Including a birthday pie and balloons!

… that I live in the 21st century.

… my nephews and their father who gave my yard an incredible weekly manicure.  It never looked better.

… my donor, my wife, my perfect match, the love of my life!

… my God, my Shelter, my Healer, my only Hope in this life and the life to come.

I am convinced I will not exhaust the storehouse of reasons to thank God this side of heaven.

When this passing world is done,
When has sunk yon glaring sun,
When we stand with Christ in glory,
Looking o’er life’s finished story;
Then, Lord, shall I fully know,
Not till then, how much I owe. – R M McCheyne

04.12.11

a mouth full

Boy oh boy… still reeling – as I am sure you all are – from all of last month’s revelry over (no, not March Madness) National Kidney Month!

Of course you know that no  kidney transplant would be complete without the concomitant twice daily dose of pharmaceuticals.  Mmmm… immunosuppressants… almost like ice cream with sprinkles.  Am I sensing a certain jealously amongst the readership??

On the timeline of medical history, renal transplants are a very recent achievement.  Scientific research and documented procedures were just beginning to be used for this procedure near the start of the twentieth century, and success was meager (short lived) even with the animal “volunteers”.  Not until 1954 was the first truly successful kidney transplant completed between two identical twin brothers in a Boston hospital. The brother’s identical tissue match helped eliminate the rejection that would normally occur by introducing non-matching tissues. This became the great hurdle for genuine long-term success with kidney transplants: rejection due to tissue mismatch. By the 1980′s great strides had been made in the development of anti-rejection drugs (immunosuppressants).  These medicines, along with the continual improvement in transplant procedures have greatly improved the success rate of kidney transplants.  For which I am forever thankful.

A few minutes each weekend are now dedicated to organizing my little box of pharmaceuticals for the week ahead. A far cry better than organizing my schedule to accommodate three times weekly dialysis.  One more thing for which to give thanks.

Each of the two anti-rejection drugs must be taken on schedule morning and night.  And while there are only two of them, the correct dose requires several pills of each drug along with some vitamins and an anti-viral medicine.  Colorful and a bit daunting.

Early on I secured a wristwatch with an alarm to remind me to take this medicine at the appropriate hour. Unfortunately the watch chime is not unlike the unceasing ring in my ears (another bonus from this whole experience).  It is not uncommon to have my watch beeping away at 8am or 8pm while I carry on in my natural state of blissful ignorance.  And receiving subtle reminders (nudges, stares and “Ahhh-hem”!) from family and coworkers that my dopey alarm is annoying them.  Rumors have been floated that they may fit me with a canine shock collar.

8am and 8pm don’t always arrive at the most opportune times… work, church, concerts, meetings… but I usually remember to silence my watch alarm or sometimes not.  I remembered to silence it last Friday night at the Gammage Center while we heard the ASU Symphony Orchestra and Choir.   At the intermission I nimbly tripped past half a row of concert-goers to find a water source.  I found a pair of drinking fountains near the hall entrance, poured my little packet of about nine brilliantly colored pills and capsules into my palm, deftly thrust the entire fistful into my mouth and bent to wash them down…

I just used nimbly and deftly in same paragraph.  I apologize for this egregious overuse of these lesser known adjectives.  Sometimes that happens with some of the more unruly adjectives that sneak onto the page and parade themselves shamelessly about as though we could not live without them.

Gammage opened in 1964 and is the only public building in Arizona designed by famed architect, Frank Lloyd Wright.  The concert hall has terrific acoustics and none of the three thousand seats on three levels are beyond 120 feet from the stage.  Broad sweeping walkways inside and out make it accommodating to all.  And by all we need not limit ourselves to the human variety, for apparently I had in my haste to locate a drinking fountain stumbled upon the drinking fountain designated for Tempe’s burgeoning population of gerbils.  I gave the rotating handle on the bubbler a mighty twist and out of the polished brass spout rushed about six little drops of water.  Plenty enough for a domesticated thirsty rodent, but scarcely enough for a slightly less domesticated adult human male with a bag of pharmaceuticals beginning to stick to his tongue.   Again and again I twisted the fountain handle, each time producing a mere glimpse of the precious liquid before receding back into its underground vault.

Surely the adjacent fountain would not be a Gerbils Only fountain.  I glanced at the man next to me as he raised his head from the fountain and gave a look that said, “I’ve no longer any compassion for gerbils”.  Gammage’s sweeping walkways are looking very very narrow and very very crowded as I wend my way through the masses in pursuit of some liquid relief.  Could I just swallow them? I wonder as I move through the crowd.  I could try, but if I fail and this gradually dissolving array of pills stops short of my stomach we may be watching more than Beethoven tonight. Finally, there it was: a real drinking fountain with a real gushing stream of water and real humans drinking from it.  A few gulps and the drugs were freed from the roof of my mouth and my tongue.  On this night I am especially thankful for cool clean water.

Oh, so you think my story a stretch… ASU.  Maybe a little bent out of shape over the use of their fountain.

01.25.11

365!

One year ago there we were… waiting, praying, talking, trusting, hugging, preparing, and finally rolling down the hall on a (God Willing) once in a lifetime journey.   What an amazing story we have to tell of Divine providence and mercy, of friends and family that have surrounded us with untold prayer and kindness, and of good health and recovery that has exceeded our highest hopes.

Last week I visited Mayo Clinic and Hospital for my one-year follow up exams.  Day one was a visit with the dermatologist.  This is made necessary due to the immunosuppressants that are now part of my daily dose.  These tend to compromise my ability to resist skin cancer.  The dermatological department has their own special supply of “gowns”.  More like bibs.   Like you were headed for the Outback Steakhouse to get a plate of ribs, but in your undies.  In spite of the apparel the results were good, but strong precautions in the sunshine will be a way of life from here on out.

Day two was a fasting blood test and a follow up biopsy. They must have been experiencing a shortage of blood samples to test, ’cause they drained about a dozen vials off before I ran dry. The biopsy was accompanied by a renal ultrasound.  The ultrasound really is a fascinating procedure as they squoosh the transducer (probe) over the site of the new kidney.  The monitor displayed a vivid (shadowy sort of oval) image of the kidney in bright red, blue and yellow colors and the shooka-shooka-shooka sound of blood coursing through the arteries.  The biopsy is a lot less fun, but its all part of the package.  The biopsy syringe draws a pencil-lead diameter by 3 centimeter sample of tissue from the kidney.  Ow.  From this sample the doctors will be able to detect any signs of rejection, inflammation, viruses or DingDongs.  A one hour trip to the recovery room and we are on the way home.  Lunchtime.

Day three was a short trip to the Clinic for bone mineral analysis (BMA). There is apparently some connection between transplant recipients and decreased bone strength.  Was this in the fine print? The BMA test is short and requires laying on a table while a giant arm moves slowly back and forth over the patient, and since the technician didn’t run from the room during the procedure I’m guessing it did not include x-rays. From here I was off to the hospital to collect my 24 hour blood pressure cuff (murse).

Day four was to return my blood pressure cuff and a final visit with the doctor to review the findings from all of the tests.  His assessment: a great success!  The blood test showed all of the many factors tested were within the acceptable ranges.  The creatinine level that had before the operation been hovering above 4.5 (dangerous), has now fallen to 1.5 (good).  The biopsy showed no indicators of rejection or inflammation. Basically, he was just about as pleased as could be with the overall results of our transplant.

How good is God that He should pour out such goodness on us?  How good is God that He should provide me with such a bride?

 

Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!

 

01.01.11

Happy New Year! (a balmy 29 degrees in Mesa, AZ this morning… brrrr)

What mercy we have that every 52 weeks we get to recount all the blessings and mercies we have received over this last year.  And this is one forgiven sinner who has drawn more from the springs of grace, mercy and providence of God than ever I could have ever imagined.

2010 started with just a touch of trepidation – having scant experience with actual kidney transplants – and ended with the joy of welcoming our first grandchild into this world.  And in between we experienced the comfort of a thousand friends and family that prayed for us and cared for us, the happiness of celebrating our 30th anniversary, and the triumph of ending the year with considerably better health than that which I started.  And sprinkled throughout many more blessings than I could count.

2011 looms large before us… hmm… what wonders has the Almighty in store for us in this new year?

“Who is like you, O Lord, among the gods?

Who is like you, majestic in holiness,

awesome in glorious deeds, doing wonders?

11.25.10

November 25.  That can only mean two three things.

1.  Tomorrow at 4:02am at a Walmart somewhere in Indiana an anxious black-friday customer will have a near death experience in aisle 33 involving a Barbie Range Rover and a George Foreman Grill.

2. Today marks ten months since I received my new kidney!  Wow, that went by in a hurry!  These last months have sped by with nary a hiccup.  Okay, a couple of insignificant little hiccups and maybe a burp, but mostly just nary.  Nancy and I have healed up wondrously and my most recent blood tests have shown that the new kidney is performing just as it ought.

and

3. Thanksgiving has arrived.  Not that we should find but a single day in 365 to make known our gratitude, but rather a single day of the beginning of 364 more to follow that will each one be full of wide-eyed wonder and thanksgiving more heartfelt, more joyful and more full of praise than the one that went before. Happy Thanksgiving!

Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures forever! (1 Chronicles 16:34)