I know that I should love my scars, they represent a wonderful thing that I did and are relatively small. But, I don't. I am very aware of them and the way they look, and have purchased a scar-diminishing gel to help reduce their appearance. I'm not the type of girl that goes around showing off her stomach or anything like that, but I did realize the other day that there will always be the 'scar factor' to consider when doing anything such as going swimming, having exposed skin for whatever reason... and I'm not overly comfortable with that. I mean, I don't like feeling like when I go swimming I should wear a 1piece to cover the scars regardless of if that is what I would choose regularly or not. And I know that I shouldn't be ashamed of my scars, but I do have to admit I am body conscious to begin with and this just adds another layer to that.
Right now as the scars are very new, I feel like if they were to be seen, they would invite a lot of questions, and again, I am a very private person when it comes to talking about my surgery, so I'm not very interested in deflecting questions or looks. So, what I'm doing is trying this diminishing gel in hopes that the scars will fade and eventually you will hardly be able to see them at all. Thankfully, the surgeon was very, very good and they are minimal and healing very well, but I want them gone. I mean, I am a young woman, and scars are permanent.
Here's hoping the gel works, and especially since the scars are so new, that they fade fast and soon no one would be able to tell.
Showing posts with label kidney donation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kidney donation. Show all posts
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Donation Day - 4 Dots and a Dash
For whatever reason my husband's post(s) seem to have gotten lost in the abyss of the Internet and thus its taken a few days to get you all the insider information on what it was really like to have the surgery to give a kidney away.
At Home
Thursday morning we wake up pretty early, and by wake up I mean get out of bed, neither of us really slept much, and off I go to take my second anti-bacterial shower. This one leaves my skin feeling a touch itchy as its now a bit on the dry side, but I don't have much time to ponder this.
At the Hospital
We grab my 'overnight' bag, which in hindsight was completely over packed, and head off to the hospital. Upon arrival we do not go through admitting, rather we go straight to the floors as previously directed and they were waiting and ready for us. The nurses direct us into a room where I am told to change. My clothes, jacket and boots all go into clear plastic bags that get labeled with my information, and I put on the garb.
Dressing for Surgery
This was rather interesting as I had only expected a hospital gown and housecoat over top, which I did get, but also got white, thigh-high compression stockings with a hole at the ball of each foot (I'm assuming so they can check circulation). On top of those were hospital slippers, the thin paper ones that are more for sanitary reasons than anything.
Once I was all dressed and ready the surgeon came in to have me sign a few final forms authorizing the procedure, any other necessary life-saving procedures, as well as a possible blood transfusion should the need arise (which they didn't think it would, but just wanted to cover the bases). Once the forms were all signed we left the stuff that was to go to my room (a nurse would deliver it at some point in the day) and walked to the surgical unit.
Surgical Unit
Here we were taken into a curtained-off area (similar to a ward with lots of beds and only curtains for privacy) where we sat and a few nurses came to introduce themselves and ask a few final questions (most of which they had asked when we first got there, but the duplication was a safety thing, so didn't bother me) - when was the last time I had anything to eat, do I have any allergies etc. The anestelogist introduced himself, as well as a few others on the team. It was about 8am when I said goodbye to my husband and went into the room.
The room had a table in the center that almost looked like a cross- the main part for my body, the cross part for my arms. When I got up on the table I needed to make sure not to lay down on the hospital gown as clearly they would need access to what was underneath it. I'm laid down and they start with the needles. I'm not a fan at all, but apparently the first set of drugs was to relax me, and the second set was to put me to sleep. I was totally okay with both sets. My view from the table was whomever was in the immediate vicinity and two of those large, round OR lights. Not scary, but a little unnerving.I didn't spend a lot of conscious time in this room, so I don't have much more to say about it.
The Surgery
Here's what I do know about what happened in that room and in surgery. Laproscopic surgeries typically tend to be a bit longer than open surgeries as they are working in a confined space, by mine was only 2hrs in and out. I could tell that my surgeon had done this many times before. While I was out, they did put in a catheter, IV, and of course took out my left Kidney (named Earl). During this time my husband was waiting in one of the surgical waiting rooms on the same floor as the one we went to upon arrival that morning; after the surgery was done the surgeon came out and gave him an update as to how it went, which was perfectly.
4 Dots
I have 4 laproscopic sites on my left abs, 1 beside my bellybutton, 1 a bit higher and to the left of my naval, right below my ribs, 1 in line with my bellybutton but almost on the side of my body, and one down from the one below my ribs. They vary from 5mm to 12mm in size (I'm not sure which ones are which to be honest). If I take the heel of my right hand, place it on my stomach near the bellybutton incision, at the tip of my fingers is the one on the far side of my body, at my thumb is the one below my ribs, and at the midpoint on my pinky finger is the lowest dot. Not a large area, but hopefully that gives you an idea of how they are spread out.
The Dash
The incision, is almost where my left leg joins up with my torso. Almost right on the crease of my leg/body. They do the incision here for cosmetic purposes, its easier to hide the scar. The incision is about the length of my pointer finger, 4inches or so.
Recovery Room
Apparently I was in recovery for about 2 hours, mostly still under anesthetic. I remember the nurse (male) waking me up with a warm washcloth on my face, and being very cold. They grabbed me lots of warm blankets and after what seemed like a few brief minutes of checking my vitals, took me to my room.
My Room
I didn't know most of this when I first got there, but my room was a 4 patient room in the surgical ward (the recipient was in a different ward to help protect anonymity). I was on a morphine drip to help manage the pain, and I had this handy little button, much like what I assume the ones they use on Jeopardy are like, to administer some when I felt the need. It would of course lock me out if I tried to get too much in too short a period of time, but I didn't really notice much of that the first day.
I was feeling pretty happy, I knew it had gone well which is what I wanted, and a little loopy from all the drugs running through my system. All of this I had expected. What I hadn't expected was how distended my abdomen was going to be from the CO2 they pumped into me during surgery. I looked like I was 5 months pregnant. Or at least it felt that way. My entire midsection was pretty tender.
I was on clear fluids as a diet, and still had both the catheter and IV. The catheter served 2 purposes. 1, to monitor my 'output' to make sure there wasn't blood in the urine or anything like that, and 2, there was no way I would be able to get up and pee as often as I would have needed to give how much fluid they were pumping through me via the IV.
Hospital food, not that great. Mind you, I wasn't exactly getting the best selection at this time, and even then could only manage a bit of orange juice and a few sips of vegetable broth.
I spent most of the day on my back, and had to get the nurses to assist me to roll onto my right side the first time as I was that tender. Of course I was still wearing that ever so lovely hospital gown, and thus when I was on my sides during the night, I constantly felt like my butt was hanging out, even when I knew it was covered.
I was so drugged up that day, and stayed pretty consistent with the use of the morphine, that although they woke me up every 4hrs to take my vitals (temperature, blood pressure, pulse, O2 saturation), I was out of it. Not saying that I was sleeping, that didn't happen much at all, but I was pretty out of it.
During the night my blood pressure did drop pretty low, 93/45 or something like that. It happened at the midnight vitals check but they didn't do anything that I could tell, other than to keep a pretty close eye on me. Apparently morphine can lower blood pressure, which combined with my typical blood pressure which was on the lower side of normal, resulted in the drop. Thankfully the next time they roused me to check my vitals it was a bit higher.
My dear husband was by my side all afternoon, having made call to the small group of people who know during my time in the recovery room. From his side, apparently those 'guest' chairs in the hospital rooms are not that comfortable, and the entertainment that we brought was mostly for him as I was too out of it for any of it.
Thus ends DDay.
At Home
Thursday morning we wake up pretty early, and by wake up I mean get out of bed, neither of us really slept much, and off I go to take my second anti-bacterial shower. This one leaves my skin feeling a touch itchy as its now a bit on the dry side, but I don't have much time to ponder this.
At the Hospital
We grab my 'overnight' bag, which in hindsight was completely over packed, and head off to the hospital. Upon arrival we do not go through admitting, rather we go straight to the floors as previously directed and they were waiting and ready for us. The nurses direct us into a room where I am told to change. My clothes, jacket and boots all go into clear plastic bags that get labeled with my information, and I put on the garb.
Dressing for Surgery
This was rather interesting as I had only expected a hospital gown and housecoat over top, which I did get, but also got white, thigh-high compression stockings with a hole at the ball of each foot (I'm assuming so they can check circulation). On top of those were hospital slippers, the thin paper ones that are more for sanitary reasons than anything.
Once I was all dressed and ready the surgeon came in to have me sign a few final forms authorizing the procedure, any other necessary life-saving procedures, as well as a possible blood transfusion should the need arise (which they didn't think it would, but just wanted to cover the bases). Once the forms were all signed we left the stuff that was to go to my room (a nurse would deliver it at some point in the day) and walked to the surgical unit.
Surgical Unit
Here we were taken into a curtained-off area (similar to a ward with lots of beds and only curtains for privacy) where we sat and a few nurses came to introduce themselves and ask a few final questions (most of which they had asked when we first got there, but the duplication was a safety thing, so didn't bother me) - when was the last time I had anything to eat, do I have any allergies etc. The anestelogist introduced himself, as well as a few others on the team. It was about 8am when I said goodbye to my husband and went into the room.
The room had a table in the center that almost looked like a cross- the main part for my body, the cross part for my arms. When I got up on the table I needed to make sure not to lay down on the hospital gown as clearly they would need access to what was underneath it. I'm laid down and they start with the needles. I'm not a fan at all, but apparently the first set of drugs was to relax me, and the second set was to put me to sleep. I was totally okay with both sets. My view from the table was whomever was in the immediate vicinity and two of those large, round OR lights. Not scary, but a little unnerving.I didn't spend a lot of conscious time in this room, so I don't have much more to say about it.
The Surgery
Here's what I do know about what happened in that room and in surgery. Laproscopic surgeries typically tend to be a bit longer than open surgeries as they are working in a confined space, by mine was only 2hrs in and out. I could tell that my surgeon had done this many times before. While I was out, they did put in a catheter, IV, and of course took out my left Kidney (named Earl). During this time my husband was waiting in one of the surgical waiting rooms on the same floor as the one we went to upon arrival that morning; after the surgery was done the surgeon came out and gave him an update as to how it went, which was perfectly.
4 Dots
I have 4 laproscopic sites on my left abs, 1 beside my bellybutton, 1 a bit higher and to the left of my naval, right below my ribs, 1 in line with my bellybutton but almost on the side of my body, and one down from the one below my ribs. They vary from 5mm to 12mm in size (I'm not sure which ones are which to be honest). If I take the heel of my right hand, place it on my stomach near the bellybutton incision, at the tip of my fingers is the one on the far side of my body, at my thumb is the one below my ribs, and at the midpoint on my pinky finger is the lowest dot. Not a large area, but hopefully that gives you an idea of how they are spread out.
The Dash
The incision, is almost where my left leg joins up with my torso. Almost right on the crease of my leg/body. They do the incision here for cosmetic purposes, its easier to hide the scar. The incision is about the length of my pointer finger, 4inches or so.
Recovery Room
Apparently I was in recovery for about 2 hours, mostly still under anesthetic. I remember the nurse (male) waking me up with a warm washcloth on my face, and being very cold. They grabbed me lots of warm blankets and after what seemed like a few brief minutes of checking my vitals, took me to my room.
My Room
I didn't know most of this when I first got there, but my room was a 4 patient room in the surgical ward (the recipient was in a different ward to help protect anonymity). I was on a morphine drip to help manage the pain, and I had this handy little button, much like what I assume the ones they use on Jeopardy are like, to administer some when I felt the need. It would of course lock me out if I tried to get too much in too short a period of time, but I didn't really notice much of that the first day.
I was feeling pretty happy, I knew it had gone well which is what I wanted, and a little loopy from all the drugs running through my system. All of this I had expected. What I hadn't expected was how distended my abdomen was going to be from the CO2 they pumped into me during surgery. I looked like I was 5 months pregnant. Or at least it felt that way. My entire midsection was pretty tender.
I was on clear fluids as a diet, and still had both the catheter and IV. The catheter served 2 purposes. 1, to monitor my 'output' to make sure there wasn't blood in the urine or anything like that, and 2, there was no way I would be able to get up and pee as often as I would have needed to give how much fluid they were pumping through me via the IV.
Hospital food, not that great. Mind you, I wasn't exactly getting the best selection at this time, and even then could only manage a bit of orange juice and a few sips of vegetable broth.
I spent most of the day on my back, and had to get the nurses to assist me to roll onto my right side the first time as I was that tender. Of course I was still wearing that ever so lovely hospital gown, and thus when I was on my sides during the night, I constantly felt like my butt was hanging out, even when I knew it was covered.
I was so drugged up that day, and stayed pretty consistent with the use of the morphine, that although they woke me up every 4hrs to take my vitals (temperature, blood pressure, pulse, O2 saturation), I was out of it. Not saying that I was sleeping, that didn't happen much at all, but I was pretty out of it.
During the night my blood pressure did drop pretty low, 93/45 or something like that. It happened at the midnight vitals check but they didn't do anything that I could tell, other than to keep a pretty close eye on me. Apparently morphine can lower blood pressure, which combined with my typical blood pressure which was on the lower side of normal, resulted in the drop. Thankfully the next time they roused me to check my vitals it was a bit higher.
My dear husband was by my side all afternoon, having made call to the small group of people who know during my time in the recovery room. From his side, apparently those 'guest' chairs in the hospital rooms are not that comfortable, and the entertainment that we brought was mostly for him as I was too out of it for any of it.
Thus ends DDay.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Skydiving this Saturday!
I have a list of things to do before I die and every opportunity I try and cross an item off the list. I am always adding item to the list, places I want to go, experiences I want to have; there is an entire airborne section of which I am proud to say that I will be crossing a long-standing item off my list: Skydiving.Skydiving is something I've wanted to do for a very long time, and for whatever reason I decided that before surgery I wanted to cross something off my list, and the airborne section seemed most attainable. The other option was going on a discovery flight, however the real item on my list is get my pilots license, not just fly a plane. So I decided that skydiving was the way to go as it was an actual item on the list.
So this Saturday at 12noon I will begin the 30minute training before ascending to 9,500 feet where I will do a tandem jump with a 30second freefall. My lovely husband will be waiting in the drop zone (he refuses to be in the plane when I jump), I'm sure praying that I will land safely. I am a bit of a klutz (actually I am so much of a klutz that it has factored into what we look for in a home), so I do understand his fears.
Not gonna lie, I don't think it has sunk in quite yet that I am going to jump out of a plane on Saturday. Right now it just seems like I made an appointment for Saturday, similar to how I would make a hair appointment or something of the like. I am a bit of a chicken, so this is going to be very interesting... its sending shivers up my spine right now.
It's the whole 'live like you were dying' thing, the 'what if' scenarios that haunt me late at night have made me think about the life that I have, the time that I have, and what I want to be doing with it. Surgery is not without its risks (I really need to stop watching Greys Anatomy) and even routine surgery can go wrong. If something happens to me I want to have lived a life I can be proud of, a life where I have seized the day, made something of who I am and the time I have been so fortunate to have.
Thus, this Saturday I skydive. I don't know how I am going to actually do it, but I am going to find a way. And I can't wait to tell you all about it.
Until then, here is a question for you: What's on your list? Completed items? If you had the opportunity to do any 1 thing from your list right now, what would it be?
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
24hr what?
*Disclaimer - I know the contents of this post are not of the nicest subject matter, but one of my objectives is to chronicle my entire experience throughout this entire process, and urine tests are a part of that, so they are a part of this.*
24hr Urine Test. Right. Just got a call from my transplant coordinator and although in this center they do renal scans, the center where I will be donating does Urine. Therefor she just faxed me a lab requisition and I will need to do a 24hr collection (which will likely happen on the weekend). They are testing for Creatinine (among other things) apparently.
So my understanding is that I will do a void first thing in the morning, then collect all urine for a 24hr period, stopping at the same time the next day. Hence they advised me to do it on the weekend (so I can keep the collection container in one bathroom). When I go to drop the sample off (or when I pick it up, which ever works) I need to do another urine collection and get a blood test as well (although I think the blood test needs to be at the end of the 24hr period).
The good news is apparently the receiving center has everything else that they need (including some fresh blood from Monday's blood test) and that if all the test results come back clear we are good to go.
So *fingers crossed* that I void well this coming weekend, and the next news item will be that I have flights booked and am headed out of province. Of course, I will continue to keep you all updated on the nitty gritties of the process, but in the meantime, here is a question for you: What is the best/worst experience you have had during a medical test?
24hr Urine Test. Right. Just got a call from my transplant coordinator and although in this center they do renal scans, the center where I will be donating does Urine. Therefor she just faxed me a lab requisition and I will need to do a 24hr collection (which will likely happen on the weekend). They are testing for Creatinine (among other things) apparently.
So my understanding is that I will do a void first thing in the morning, then collect all urine for a 24hr period, stopping at the same time the next day. Hence they advised me to do it on the weekend (so I can keep the collection container in one bathroom). When I go to drop the sample off (or when I pick it up, which ever works) I need to do another urine collection and get a blood test as well (although I think the blood test needs to be at the end of the 24hr period).
The good news is apparently the receiving center has everything else that they need (including some fresh blood from Monday's blood test) and that if all the test results come back clear we are good to go.
So *fingers crossed* that I void well this coming weekend, and the next news item will be that I have flights booked and am headed out of province. Of course, I will continue to keep you all updated on the nitty gritties of the process, but in the meantime, here is a question for you: What is the best/worst experience you have had during a medical test?
Monday, July 12, 2010
"No! Absolutely not!"
So my mother-in-law knows. Wanna guess what her reaction was?
Needless to say she basically said that she thinks its great that I want to do this, but that I shouldn't. That I was putting my future children at risk, and living with one kidney is a completely different life. Which it isn't. And there is a greater risk that I will be hit by a bus walking to work than have complications during pregnancy.
Interesting piece of the puzzle... when we were talking about it, my husband asked her if I was donating to my best friend if that would change her reaction. "Absolutely." So she is an example of the issue being that its non-directed.
That continues to boggle my mind. And I guess I'm learning that I don't think the same way a lot of people do, because to me, just because I don't know someone doesn't mean that their life is not worth as much as mine, that its okay for someone else to die because of a 1 in 300,000 chance of complications. To me, I have the ability to do this, and to not do it to me is almost like playing God and deciding who lives and who dies. Each person has the power to save a life, via blood donation, bone marrow transfusion, or even organ donation. The process is albeit time consuming, but it is relatively simple, and it saves a life. Is it not worth taking a few hours and a few weeks out of your life to give someone years to love and be loved? If it were your loved one, nothing is worth more than a life, and so why would that change because I don't know the recipient?
The other question that both mothers have now asked is "do I get to pick who gets my kidney?" Do I get to say only a child can have it, or a single mother? NO! And I wouldn't want to either.
No, my kidney goes to the next person on the transplant list that I am a match for, regardless of who they are, how old they are, or why they need a kidney. Thats none of my business, and I don't want to know.
Moving on.
Now, all of the people that need to know, know. Now I just hope and pray that I am able to get my iron up and am approved for donation. I know that I will have all the support I need to get through this.
And of course, I will continue to chronicle my experiences, the tests, the surgery, and the recovery.
Needless to say she basically said that she thinks its great that I want to do this, but that I shouldn't. That I was putting my future children at risk, and living with one kidney is a completely different life. Which it isn't. And there is a greater risk that I will be hit by a bus walking to work than have complications during pregnancy.
Interesting piece of the puzzle... when we were talking about it, my husband asked her if I was donating to my best friend if that would change her reaction. "Absolutely." So she is an example of the issue being that its non-directed.
That continues to boggle my mind. And I guess I'm learning that I don't think the same way a lot of people do, because to me, just because I don't know someone doesn't mean that their life is not worth as much as mine, that its okay for someone else to die because of a 1 in 300,000 chance of complications. To me, I have the ability to do this, and to not do it to me is almost like playing God and deciding who lives and who dies. Each person has the power to save a life, via blood donation, bone marrow transfusion, or even organ donation. The process is albeit time consuming, but it is relatively simple, and it saves a life. Is it not worth taking a few hours and a few weeks out of your life to give someone years to love and be loved? If it were your loved one, nothing is worth more than a life, and so why would that change because I don't know the recipient?
The other question that both mothers have now asked is "do I get to pick who gets my kidney?" Do I get to say only a child can have it, or a single mother? NO! And I wouldn't want to either.
No, my kidney goes to the next person on the transplant list that I am a match for, regardless of who they are, how old they are, or why they need a kidney. Thats none of my business, and I don't want to know.
Moving on.
Now, all of the people that need to know, know. Now I just hope and pray that I am able to get my iron up and am approved for donation. I know that I will have all the support I need to get through this.
And of course, I will continue to chronicle my experiences, the tests, the surgery, and the recovery.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Dear Mom, I'm donating a Kidney
Okay, so that might not be the best way to start the conversation, but I think its going to have to happen. A very wise friend of mine told me that parents (no matter how old the child is) do not like to be told that something is happening, they like to be involved in the process. So by telling my mother before the date is set, and letting her go through the remainder of the process with me, I am more likely to have her support and the relationship will be better long-term. Therefor I have altered my plan of not telling them until the date is set for surgery.
Thats wonderful. That really is. Now how do I do it?
But, I do know that I will have more support post-op and my husband will have some help taking care of me when I am convalescing.
I guess maybe the reason I'm scared to tell her is that I'm scared I will get the "negative support" that I got from my boss and her husband.
The weekend after I tell my mom and dad, we go visit the in-laws and I will be telling them as well. Not overly worried about that just yet, but I think a lot of how I feel about telling them will depend on what happens next weekend when I tell my mom.
The question is: If they hate the idea and are really against it, how will that affect me? And will they be able to support my decision even if they don't agree with it?
Any ideas?
Thats wonderful. That really is. Now how do I do it?
Part of my anxiety about this is I don't want this to overtake the weekend. I would just like to tell her, answer her questions, then move on. I want to see my family and spend time with them, not spend the entire time talking about this. So I'm thinking I might do it on Sunday before we leave, or maybe over dinner and a bottle of wine.
I love my mother so much, and I want her love and support. But, and there is always a but when it comes to family, I don't want her to spread this around. I don't know if I even want my brother to know. The more people that know the more likely this will get out or something, and I prefer to have it be just something I'm doing, then move on with life when it's done. And the more people that know, the harder that will be.
I guess maybe the reason I'm scared to tell her is that I'm scared I will get the "negative support" that I got from my boss and her husband.
The weekend after I tell my mom and dad, we go visit the in-laws and I will be telling them as well. Not overly worried about that just yet, but I think a lot of how I feel about telling them will depend on what happens next weekend when I tell my mom.
The question is: If they hate the idea and are really against it, how will that affect me? And will they be able to support my decision even if they don't agree with it?
Any ideas?
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
One of the reasons why...
http://www.time.com/time/audioslide/0,32187,1983982,00.html
Right now I am hyper-tuned to anything involving organ donation and especially kidneys. I have been reading all about wait times and how Ontario has the lowest rate in the country for registered donors, how in 2008, there were 4,330 people on the waiting list for an organ transplant, 215 people died while waiting for an organ transplant, and various other stories which go to confirm that not many people do what I'm about to do.
There are so many stories out there about our health care system, scary statistics, and tales of woe. Heart warming stories are few and far between, so when I found this story, I wanted to post it as a reminder of why I am doing this.
I know that if it was my husband, I would be pulling people off the streets and begging them to get tested for donation. I would do anything in the world to keep him alive and by my side. We dont have children yet, but if we did it would make it all that more important to keep him alive. Dying due to a lack of organ donation is so horrible because its preventable, and its not really that hard to donate. Yes it takes time, a multitude of tests, and a bit of recovery post-op, but really, 6-10 weeks out of my life to give someone another 15years with their husband/wife/child/mother/father... thats hardly anything in the grand scheme of things. So seeing this story online this morning just reminded me of why I am doing what I'm doing, and strengthened my resolve to see it through.
Right now I am hyper-tuned to anything involving organ donation and especially kidneys. I have been reading all about wait times and how Ontario has the lowest rate in the country for registered donors, how in 2008, there were 4,330 people on the waiting list for an organ transplant, 215 people died while waiting for an organ transplant, and various other stories which go to confirm that not many people do what I'm about to do.
There are so many stories out there about our health care system, scary statistics, and tales of woe. Heart warming stories are few and far between, so when I found this story, I wanted to post it as a reminder of why I am doing this.
I know that if it was my husband, I would be pulling people off the streets and begging them to get tested for donation. I would do anything in the world to keep him alive and by my side. We dont have children yet, but if we did it would make it all that more important to keep him alive. Dying due to a lack of organ donation is so horrible because its preventable, and its not really that hard to donate. Yes it takes time, a multitude of tests, and a bit of recovery post-op, but really, 6-10 weeks out of my life to give someone another 15years with their husband/wife/child/mother/father... thats hardly anything in the grand scheme of things. So seeing this story online this morning just reminded me of why I am doing what I'm doing, and strengthened my resolve to see it through.
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