I've had several comments from people that are going through the process of donating (either to someone they know, or in a non-directed way). How are you doing? Have you had your surgery yet? How are the tests going?
If you've had your surgery, how are you recovering? Was it what you expected it to be? How is the recipient (if known)?
Have you had any challenges or bumps along the road?
What has life been like for you? Including the reactions you have gotten from friends and family? Was it different post-op as compared to pre-op? I know it was for me!
I would love to hear how things are going with you.
It's been almost 7 months since my surgery, and life is great. It's very much back to the way it was before and some days I hardly think about it. All in all, life is great - and I have heard the recipient is still doing great.
Thanks again for reading and commenting - you guys are one of the reasons I started this blog to being with.
Showing posts with label recovery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label recovery. Show all posts
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Hollow Spot
I know its been a while since I've posted in anyway, and I do want to thank you for reading my story.
Living with one kidney is living a normal life. It is now mid-April and the phantom pains are gone (even when I am not being as good as I should be), my scars are fading and for the most part it's not even something that I think of daily.
As life is back to normal, I am going to yoga again and it was there that I had a rather unusual reminder that I only have one kidney - we were lying on our backs with our knees pulled into our chests, our arms wrapped around our knees, rocking gently from side to side. I could feel the difference when I rolled towards my left compared to towards my right. The best way I can think of to describe it is I felt like a weighted egg where one side was heavier (and felt like there was something inside). The other side just felt hollow. It felt weird. It's weird being able to feel it in such a random situation. I mean, it makes sense that I could, but it was surprising as I hadn't expected it and this was the first time I had felt it.
In other news, my left leg has the feeling slowly returning. It had been numb on the top of my thigh between my knee and my hip ever since my surgery, and had scared me quite a bit when I first realized it. After a trip to the ER to make sure everything was okay, we found out it was because of where my incision is, and that it is very normal for any type of abdominal surgery with a side incision. The feeling is slowly coming back, and I expect it will be fully back within 2 months.
Life is pretty much back to normal, and outside of the occasional physical reminder my life has not changed from before my surgery.
I hope that if you are thinking of donating a kidney that you will find this encouraging, and please do leave a comment if you have any questions or concerns regarding life after donation (or the donation process itself).
Many thanks!
Living with one kidney is living a normal life. It is now mid-April and the phantom pains are gone (even when I am not being as good as I should be), my scars are fading and for the most part it's not even something that I think of daily.
As life is back to normal, I am going to yoga again and it was there that I had a rather unusual reminder that I only have one kidney - we were lying on our backs with our knees pulled into our chests, our arms wrapped around our knees, rocking gently from side to side. I could feel the difference when I rolled towards my left compared to towards my right. The best way I can think of to describe it is I felt like a weighted egg where one side was heavier (and felt like there was something inside). The other side just felt hollow. It felt weird. It's weird being able to feel it in such a random situation. I mean, it makes sense that I could, but it was surprising as I hadn't expected it and this was the first time I had felt it.
In other news, my left leg has the feeling slowly returning. It had been numb on the top of my thigh between my knee and my hip ever since my surgery, and had scared me quite a bit when I first realized it. After a trip to the ER to make sure everything was okay, we found out it was because of where my incision is, and that it is very normal for any type of abdominal surgery with a side incision. The feeling is slowly coming back, and I expect it will be fully back within 2 months.
Life is pretty much back to normal, and outside of the occasional physical reminder my life has not changed from before my surgery.
I hope that if you are thinking of donating a kidney that you will find this encouraging, and please do leave a comment if you have any questions or concerns regarding life after donation (or the donation process itself).
Many thanks!
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Who Knows... And Who Doesn't
One of the interesting parts of my wonderful husband's Christmas Party is that I was confronted with my surgery. What I mean by that is among the glittering trees decorated by designers and his cocktail attired coworkers, I came to find out that my surgery was not something between him and I after all. Rather, when explaining to his boss that he needed time off to accompany me for surgery, some wires got crossed and the next thing I know apparently the entire Sr Management Team from his company knew that I had donated a kidney. Apparently the only part that didn't come out was that it was an anonymous donation.
It was super wonderful, I'm standing around having a cran-soda (to not make it apparent that I wasn't drinking at a cocktail function, which I would normally be all over) and the wife of my husband's best friend (who is the second of 3 top guys at my husband's firm) starts asking me about my kidney and how my cousin was doing. I was a little shocked. In fact I believe my exact response was "What? Excuse me, but what? How do you know about that? How much do you know? Where did you find this out?" A rapid fire string of questions. I was caught totally off guard. Normally, when I know I will be telling people about this, its something that I initiate, and I have the conversation somewhat planned out. This, this was different. I didn't start this. It wasn't my doing that spread it around. I had no idea how to react. After a few briefly uncomfortable moments I excused myself from the conversation to try and find my husband to see what had happened, and low and behold, it happens again: "Hey, by the way, awesome that you donated a kidney," Similar response from me.
Although I did say to all these people that it wasn't something I wanted to talk about, I had 2, needed one and so I gave the other away. I let them continue with the notion that I had given to my cousin, I didn't really feel like talking about it.
The one thing that happened from this is that I became more open to talking about it. I did find that people's reactions before surgery and after are vastly different. Before people thought it was their right to tell me what I should and should not do; a surprising number of people tried to talk me out of it. After, I only got positive reactions.
I started telling the rest of my family, my brother, aunt and uncle, as well as some very close family friends. I told a few more of my friends, as well as some people that asked about my surgery. In some ways I found it easier to tell people than to explain why I wasn't at work (I'm not a big fan of lying), and why I was moving around like an old lady.
Talking about it was freeing as well. I didn't have to hide any pain or discomfort, try to pretend certain activities held no interest when I really just didn't have the energy for them, or explain why I was talking certain pills and liked to nap a lot.
And when asked about why I simply say "have two, need one." And yes, if they do ask, I would do it all over again.
As for who doesn't know, other than my parents-in-law, the in-laws don't know, nor do a lot of people in my work circle. My little sister knows I had a kidney removed, but not that it was donated. Most of my immediate family knows, as do close friends, and that is how I would like to keep it, at least for now. Although, this is not set in stone. I am not out advocating for organ donation or anything like that, I am simply telling a few people what is going on in my life, as it is a big part of my life, and waiting until I am fully comfortable with these people knowing before moving on.
I do find that people look at me a little differently when they know, and I'm not a fan of that at all. Which is why there are some people who I don't plan on telling at all. For example, I don't tell people that press the issue. If a friend is asking some follow up questions from my standard statement "I'm on surgical leave" then I provide tidbits of information based on their questions, but if they don't ask, I don't tell. Then, there are the other people that knew I was going for surgical leave (particularly one woman who shares our office space) and kept pressuring me for details (not because she overly cares what it is, but because she doesn't like not knowing). She even went so far as to tell me that "I am beautiful just the way I am, and I don't need to change anything." Right. It was quite funny when I did pop back into the office for a quick visit and she was there, she kept checking me out to see if she could see what it is that I had done. Nope, boobs still the same size, as is butt and belly. Then what was it? - I could see the questions radiating from her eyes. I finally threw her a bone - abdominal surgery. Kinda made me laugh though.
I will admit, it was a bit of a relief to talk about it with some people. I mean, this was a very major part of my life, and to lie about it and keep it hidden was not easy for me. It informed so much of my daily life that I left I was unable to really participate in much of life because I didn't want to give away what happened, nor did I want to lie. So telling people made life a lot easier, as well as making activities more enjoyable - I could stop and take all the breaks I wanted.
It was that fateful Christmas Party that started all of this rolling, but I have to admit, other than the fact that some people who I would never have told know, it wasn't that bad of a thing. So, what about you?? What has sharing your decision and/or your recovery been like? Positive? Negative? Did the word spread like wildfire or was it something you were in charge of (I asked my family to let me be the one to share the news, and they were all very respectful of my decision).
It was super wonderful, I'm standing around having a cran-soda (to not make it apparent that I wasn't drinking at a cocktail function, which I would normally be all over) and the wife of my husband's best friend (who is the second of 3 top guys at my husband's firm) starts asking me about my kidney and how my cousin was doing. I was a little shocked. In fact I believe my exact response was "What? Excuse me, but what? How do you know about that? How much do you know? Where did you find this out?" A rapid fire string of questions. I was caught totally off guard. Normally, when I know I will be telling people about this, its something that I initiate, and I have the conversation somewhat planned out. This, this was different. I didn't start this. It wasn't my doing that spread it around. I had no idea how to react. After a few briefly uncomfortable moments I excused myself from the conversation to try and find my husband to see what had happened, and low and behold, it happens again: "Hey, by the way, awesome that you donated a kidney," Similar response from me.
Although I did say to all these people that it wasn't something I wanted to talk about, I had 2, needed one and so I gave the other away. I let them continue with the notion that I had given to my cousin, I didn't really feel like talking about it.
The one thing that happened from this is that I became more open to talking about it. I did find that people's reactions before surgery and after are vastly different. Before people thought it was their right to tell me what I should and should not do; a surprising number of people tried to talk me out of it. After, I only got positive reactions.
I started telling the rest of my family, my brother, aunt and uncle, as well as some very close family friends. I told a few more of my friends, as well as some people that asked about my surgery. In some ways I found it easier to tell people than to explain why I wasn't at work (I'm not a big fan of lying), and why I was moving around like an old lady.
Talking about it was freeing as well. I didn't have to hide any pain or discomfort, try to pretend certain activities held no interest when I really just didn't have the energy for them, or explain why I was talking certain pills and liked to nap a lot.
And when asked about why I simply say "have two, need one." And yes, if they do ask, I would do it all over again.
As for who doesn't know, other than my parents-in-law, the in-laws don't know, nor do a lot of people in my work circle. My little sister knows I had a kidney removed, but not that it was donated. Most of my immediate family knows, as do close friends, and that is how I would like to keep it, at least for now. Although, this is not set in stone. I am not out advocating for organ donation or anything like that, I am simply telling a few people what is going on in my life, as it is a big part of my life, and waiting until I am fully comfortable with these people knowing before moving on.
I do find that people look at me a little differently when they know, and I'm not a fan of that at all. Which is why there are some people who I don't plan on telling at all. For example, I don't tell people that press the issue. If a friend is asking some follow up questions from my standard statement "I'm on surgical leave" then I provide tidbits of information based on their questions, but if they don't ask, I don't tell. Then, there are the other people that knew I was going for surgical leave (particularly one woman who shares our office space) and kept pressuring me for details (not because she overly cares what it is, but because she doesn't like not knowing). She even went so far as to tell me that "I am beautiful just the way I am, and I don't need to change anything." Right. It was quite funny when I did pop back into the office for a quick visit and she was there, she kept checking me out to see if she could see what it is that I had done. Nope, boobs still the same size, as is butt and belly. Then what was it? - I could see the questions radiating from her eyes. I finally threw her a bone - abdominal surgery. Kinda made me laugh though.
I will admit, it was a bit of a relief to talk about it with some people. I mean, this was a very major part of my life, and to lie about it and keep it hidden was not easy for me. It informed so much of my daily life that I left I was unable to really participate in much of life because I didn't want to give away what happened, nor did I want to lie. So telling people made life a lot easier, as well as making activities more enjoyable - I could stop and take all the breaks I wanted.
It was that fateful Christmas Party that started all of this rolling, but I have to admit, other than the fact that some people who I would never have told know, it wasn't that bad of a thing. So, what about you?? What has sharing your decision and/or your recovery been like? Positive? Negative? Did the word spread like wildfire or was it something you were in charge of (I asked my family to let me be the one to share the news, and they were all very respectful of my decision).
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Freedom! Discharge Day
I loved Day 3. First, I had oatmeal with brown sugar for breakfast, which was the closest thing to real food I'd had in days, and second I got out.
Here was my conversation with the surgeon who checked in with me first thing in the morning:
Him: "how are you doing?"
Me: "I would like a shower and I would like to go home, please"
Him: "alight then, we should be able to do that."
He took a look at my chart, saw that I was eating and moving well and got started on the paperwork.
My husband showed up shortly, when and filled the prescription for T3 with codeine for pain management, a nurse took out my IV, and gave me a shower (I HATED not being able to wash myself - one of the reasons I wanted to go home), I got dressed in some loose fitting yoga pants and a sweater, and away we went.
Home at this point was my friend's house, he had very generously opened his home to us for the duration of our visit, and although there is no place like home, this was so much better than the hospital. 1, I didn't have someone bugging me every 4hrs to take my vitals. 2, I could pee without assistance. 3, I wasn't in a hospital with a room full of other patients, who I understand had their own issues, but at times were very noisy, and those times felt like they were always when I was trying to sleep. 4, I could wash myself (which granted I didn't do until the next day, but even knowing that I could made me so much happier).
Once at home I took 2 T3s and took a much needed nap. The simple activity of showering, walking from my room to the cab and then into the house was a bit much for me. I was exhausted.
This first day of freedom involved a few naps and not much more, even food-wise. I was/am still on mostly soups with some soft solids in them, nothing much more than that. So although the food did get better, we are still limited on what I can/should be eating. Lucky for me my husband is a pretty awesome cook, so when I am able to eat more, I know I'll be in good hands.
Here was my conversation with the surgeon who checked in with me first thing in the morning:
Him: "how are you doing?"
Me: "I would like a shower and I would like to go home, please"
Him: "alight then, we should be able to do that."
He took a look at my chart, saw that I was eating and moving well and got started on the paperwork.
My husband showed up shortly, when and filled the prescription for T3 with codeine for pain management, a nurse took out my IV, and gave me a shower (I HATED not being able to wash myself - one of the reasons I wanted to go home), I got dressed in some loose fitting yoga pants and a sweater, and away we went.
Home at this point was my friend's house, he had very generously opened his home to us for the duration of our visit, and although there is no place like home, this was so much better than the hospital. 1, I didn't have someone bugging me every 4hrs to take my vitals. 2, I could pee without assistance. 3, I wasn't in a hospital with a room full of other patients, who I understand had their own issues, but at times were very noisy, and those times felt like they were always when I was trying to sleep. 4, I could wash myself (which granted I didn't do until the next day, but even knowing that I could made me so much happier).
Once at home I took 2 T3s and took a much needed nap. The simple activity of showering, walking from my room to the cab and then into the house was a bit much for me. I was exhausted.
This first day of freedom involved a few naps and not much more, even food-wise. I was/am still on mostly soups with some soft solids in them, nothing much more than that. So although the food did get better, we are still limited on what I can/should be eating. Lucky for me my husband is a pretty awesome cook, so when I am able to eat more, I know I'll be in good hands.
I P Freely
Day 2 brought about the removal of my catheter. Yay! I was super stoked about that. It happened shortly after waking up on Day 2, after a breakfast of OJ again. The nurse simple came and said that she was taking it out, I was laying on my back, she reached inside the waistband of my PJ pants, grabbed the tubing and it was out. Simple as that. No pain or discomfort (other than having someone reach into my pants). I was now at a stage where I pee freely.
Which wasn't actualy true. I still had an IV, and my IV was plugged in behind my bed. So everytime I had to pee, someone (my husband during the day, a nurse at night) had to some and unplug the machine for me. But, it was great to be up and moving around even just that tiny bit.
Speaking of being up and moving around, I was also able to start taking short walks down the hallway (assisted of course by my husband), holding on to my IV stand which I rolled somewhat awkwardly alongside of me. Being able to take these short walks meant my days were not spent exclusively in bed, and that was a joy in itself.
Earl was always waiting for me when I got back, and I say always like I had more than 2 walks, which I didn't. Those simple walks of 50 and 75ft were exhausting. As the doctors, nurses, and transplant coordinators had been telling me, this was major surgery and I was not to underestimate the stress it would place on my body. Which I totally had, and that was my own fault.
My midsection was still quite distended, apparently it can take some time for the CO2 to be fully absorbed by the body, but I was more used to it at this point in time.
Day 2 wasn't very interesting. Day 1 my hubby, Earl and myself watched Toy Story 3, and today we watched Toy Story 2. Of which I slept through most of it.
It was almost easier to sleep during the day than at night, not sure why, but it was.
The other highlight of Day 2 was ice cream. I was almost on full fluids, which they tried at first with some vanilla ice cream in the afternoon. It was tasty! And I handled it well so I was able to have more than just juice and broth for dinner, and even had chocolate ice cream for dessert. Food got a lot better on Day 2.
Which wasn't actualy true. I still had an IV, and my IV was plugged in behind my bed. So everytime I had to pee, someone (my husband during the day, a nurse at night) had to some and unplug the machine for me. But, it was great to be up and moving around even just that tiny bit.
Speaking of being up and moving around, I was also able to start taking short walks down the hallway (assisted of course by my husband), holding on to my IV stand which I rolled somewhat awkwardly alongside of me. Being able to take these short walks meant my days were not spent exclusively in bed, and that was a joy in itself.
Earl was always waiting for me when I got back, and I say always like I had more than 2 walks, which I didn't. Those simple walks of 50 and 75ft were exhausting. As the doctors, nurses, and transplant coordinators had been telling me, this was major surgery and I was not to underestimate the stress it would place on my body. Which I totally had, and that was my own fault.
My midsection was still quite distended, apparently it can take some time for the CO2 to be fully absorbed by the body, but I was more used to it at this point in time.
Day 2 wasn't very interesting. Day 1 my hubby, Earl and myself watched Toy Story 3, and today we watched Toy Story 2. Of which I slept through most of it.
It was almost easier to sleep during the day than at night, not sure why, but it was.
The other highlight of Day 2 was ice cream. I was almost on full fluids, which they tried at first with some vanilla ice cream in the afternoon. It was tasty! And I handled it well so I was able to have more than just juice and broth for dinner, and even had chocolate ice cream for dessert. Food got a lot better on Day 2.
Post-Op Day 1
Hospitals are not great for sleeping, at all. Every 4hrs there was a nurse to take my vitals, and if that so happened to be during a few precious moments of sleep - oh well.
So Day1 started with a surgeon waking me up around 7am. He was a part of the team, but not my actual surgeon and thus I had never met him before. It amused me as people don't seem to understand why I did what I did. I have no connection with kidney disease, no connection with organ donation/transplant, I just decided to do it. He seemed baffled. He did take a quick look at the port sites and the incision (my 4 dots and a dash) and said that I was doing great and away he went.
I'm not overly sure what time things were going on during the morning, I was still pretty close with my morphine drip and that added a bit of a haze to everything. Breakfast for me was tea, orange juice, apple juice. Or that was what was served. I was only able to have the OJ, wasn't feeling very hungry.
One of the nurses washed me, which was an experience in itself. I am not a big fan of not being able to take care of myself, and not being able to wash myself was not fun. Plus, I am not a big fan of other people touching me, especially in all those places - even if its just to make sure I am clean. So I got a wash and was able to brush my teeth, which was super awesome. And I was able to put on PJ pants, which I cannot tell you how happy they made me. Finally my bum wasn't hanging out every time I rolled over! And I added some super soft socks as my feet have a tendency to be cold. I still had the compression stockings on as I was very sedentary and they help prevent clots, but they also helped keep me nice and warm. I couldn't put on a PJ top as I had my IV in and it didn't work with the sleeves. Which kinda sucked, but at least I was able to have pants despite the fact I still had my catheter in.
My husband arrived around 10am, visiting hours were from 12noon to 8pm, but the nurses did say he could come early if he wanted, but not before 10 as they had stuff to do. Which was true, I had 'eaten' breakfast and washed up after already meeting with a surgeon before he arrived. But it was so nice to see him. He always makes me smile.
In the early afternoon or late morning (again, not totally sure) one of the transplant coordinators came to see me. She brought flowers and a card from the recipient and their family. Apparently the recipient was doing great, creatine levels were down from the 600s to the 100s, which is huge, and it was like night and day for them. She said that quite often recipients have almost a grey pallor before surgery, and after they really get their colour back, which was a good sign, and this recipient was no exception.
To protect both myself and the recipient's anonymity, I won't share the contents of the card the wrote me, but I can tell you it made me cry. The recipient was a mother, father, son or daughter. They had a family. This person was now able to do things that mere days before they were unable to do. They had a future to spend with their loved ones that didn't involve 20hrs of dialysis a week. They thanked me for what I had done, for what it meant for their family and wished me a speedy recovery. Rereading the card now, it still has the power to bring tears to my eyes and lessen my pain. It was all worth it, plain and simple.
The rest of this first day was pretty uneventful, the only other thing to note was the physiotherapist came and had me stand up and take a few steps in place. I wasn't yet recovered enough to be walking, but standing was do-able. My meals were still clear fluids, so nothing really of note, and I didn't really 'eat' much as I had (and still have) very little appetite.
I kept the flowers my my bedside, the card in the drawer of my hospital table, and my Bunny Earl by my side at all times.
A while back while waiting for an appointment I was texting my best friend and we decided to name my kidneys Earl and Pearl. Pearl being on the right, Earl on the left. When my husband came to see me when I was first out of surgery, he came bearing a white bunny stuffed animal, and when we were thinking of names for him, my husband suggested Earl. Thus the recipient got Earl the kidney, and I have Earl the bunny.
This night, however, was not as uneventful. One of the side effects of morphine is nausea. Sometime during the middle of the night the nausea hit me like a freight train. It woke me from my sleep, I started pressing my call button for a nurse, and before they could even get there I was throwing up. It sucked. They wiped me up, gave me some gravol and a small dish for if it happened again. It did. Twice more. Each time worse than the last both in quantity of 'output' and in the retching which incidentally engages you abs which hurt my incisions. It was not a pleasant night. But, thankfully, it was the worst of my nights and really the only unpleasant part of my stay.
So Day1 started with a surgeon waking me up around 7am. He was a part of the team, but not my actual surgeon and thus I had never met him before. It amused me as people don't seem to understand why I did what I did. I have no connection with kidney disease, no connection with organ donation/transplant, I just decided to do it. He seemed baffled. He did take a quick look at the port sites and the incision (my 4 dots and a dash) and said that I was doing great and away he went.
I'm not overly sure what time things were going on during the morning, I was still pretty close with my morphine drip and that added a bit of a haze to everything. Breakfast for me was tea, orange juice, apple juice. Or that was what was served. I was only able to have the OJ, wasn't feeling very hungry.
One of the nurses washed me, which was an experience in itself. I am not a big fan of not being able to take care of myself, and not being able to wash myself was not fun. Plus, I am not a big fan of other people touching me, especially in all those places - even if its just to make sure I am clean. So I got a wash and was able to brush my teeth, which was super awesome. And I was able to put on PJ pants, which I cannot tell you how happy they made me. Finally my bum wasn't hanging out every time I rolled over! And I added some super soft socks as my feet have a tendency to be cold. I still had the compression stockings on as I was very sedentary and they help prevent clots, but they also helped keep me nice and warm. I couldn't put on a PJ top as I had my IV in and it didn't work with the sleeves. Which kinda sucked, but at least I was able to have pants despite the fact I still had my catheter in.
My husband arrived around 10am, visiting hours were from 12noon to 8pm, but the nurses did say he could come early if he wanted, but not before 10 as they had stuff to do. Which was true, I had 'eaten' breakfast and washed up after already meeting with a surgeon before he arrived. But it was so nice to see him. He always makes me smile.
In the early afternoon or late morning (again, not totally sure) one of the transplant coordinators came to see me. She brought flowers and a card from the recipient and their family. Apparently the recipient was doing great, creatine levels were down from the 600s to the 100s, which is huge, and it was like night and day for them. She said that quite often recipients have almost a grey pallor before surgery, and after they really get their colour back, which was a good sign, and this recipient was no exception.
To protect both myself and the recipient's anonymity, I won't share the contents of the card the wrote me, but I can tell you it made me cry. The recipient was a mother, father, son or daughter. They had a family. This person was now able to do things that mere days before they were unable to do. They had a future to spend with their loved ones that didn't involve 20hrs of dialysis a week. They thanked me for what I had done, for what it meant for their family and wished me a speedy recovery. Rereading the card now, it still has the power to bring tears to my eyes and lessen my pain. It was all worth it, plain and simple.
The rest of this first day was pretty uneventful, the only other thing to note was the physiotherapist came and had me stand up and take a few steps in place. I wasn't yet recovered enough to be walking, but standing was do-able. My meals were still clear fluids, so nothing really of note, and I didn't really 'eat' much as I had (and still have) very little appetite.
I kept the flowers my my bedside, the card in the drawer of my hospital table, and my Bunny Earl by my side at all times.
 |
| If this bunny had a green ribbon, it would be identical to Earl |
This night, however, was not as uneventful. One of the side effects of morphine is nausea. Sometime during the middle of the night the nausea hit me like a freight train. It woke me from my sleep, I started pressing my call button for a nurse, and before they could even get there I was throwing up. It sucked. They wiped me up, gave me some gravol and a small dish for if it happened again. It did. Twice more. Each time worse than the last both in quantity of 'output' and in the retching which incidentally engages you abs which hurt my incisions. It was not a pleasant night. But, thankfully, it was the worst of my nights and really the only unpleasant part of my stay.
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.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Another day, Another Blood Test
I hate needles. Like, a lot. Ugh. *shudder*.
I thought last week when I went and had fresh blood pulled for the cross-match that I was done, but no such luck. That blood went to the hospital I am going to be donating at for a cross match, which went well, and today's blood stayed at my local hospital for another cross match. Apparently the double check is making sure that each lab gets the same results. My local hospital's policy is that they do a final cross match 1 week before surgery, but apparently the hospital I am going to be donating at won't need that as we just did a confirmation.
So, hopefully I am done with needles until the 22nd. The 22nd is the day of my pre-op clinic, which is essentially a full day of tests to confirm that I am healthy and that all the information they have is the latest and greatest. Chest Xrays, EKGs, etc. I can do that.
I did have a chance to talk with my coordinator just after the test today and we talked about some of the specifics relating to pre and post op. Again, the different hospitals do things a bit differently, but she did give me a general idea of what to expect.
My surgery is on a Thursday, so I will either be admitted on Wednesday or even Thursday morning. The surgery is typically first thing, and I will be pretty out of it right after due to the anesthetic. Apparently most patients report nausea after surgery due to the drugs and anesthetic, and they pump my abdomen full of CO2 to give the surgeons room to work so I will be really bloated. I will be in the hospital until my bowels start working, but apparently will also have a catheter in. Yay. The good news is they put that in just before surgery when I am already out. Apparently they need to monitor what is coming out as well as what is going it.
From the sounds of things, once I am out of the hospital I am good to return home and will have my 2week post-op appointment here.
As for what life is like immediately post-op, there is no lifting (nothing over 10lbs), no bending, lots of rest, and it will take a while to get my appetite back. I will need to make sure that I am walking and not in bed all the time but still resting when I need to. I can do that.
Apparently it is 3 holes for the surgery, 1 for the camera, 1 for the instruments, and 1 for the kidney removal. Oh! I totally forgot. Apparently it is a urologist who will be doing the surgery, a doctor who deals with nothing but the kidneys and kidney surgery. Just another one of those slightly different things, but still worth noting. Anyways, back to the holes. The one for kidney extraction is right by my bellybutton, and the others are one on each side. Apparently these take up to 6 weeks to heal (they heal from the inside out), which is one of the reasons why bending and lifting are out of the question for the first few weeks.
It will also take a while to get my appetite back and also to be on solid foods. I'm okay with that. My father-in-law (FIL) will be coming to stay with us for about a week when we get back (which might be sooner than expected) and the good news is that he makes fantastic soup. If I'm not up for solid foods or anything like that, at least I will have tasty soup waiting for me. Plus he is great company and since its getting cold out I will be pretty much confined to the condo. Will be really nice having someone there so I don't go stark raving mad because I'm alone too much.
I think I can handle everything thats going on, and know that between my husband and my mother I don't need to worry, they are doing enough of that between themselves.
I'm excited, I really am. Just not for needles. I really hate them. Hate everything about them. I'm not a fainter, but I do need to stay distracted when they take blood or it does make me light-headed and weak.
So here's my question to you: What was life like for you immediately post-op? What did it feel like? Any tips/tricks for making it easier? If you got a kidney, could you feel the change when you woke up? I'd love to hear about any/all experiences, the more I read the better prepared I am for my own.
Thanks!
I thought last week when I went and had fresh blood pulled for the cross-match that I was done, but no such luck. That blood went to the hospital I am going to be donating at for a cross match, which went well, and today's blood stayed at my local hospital for another cross match. Apparently the double check is making sure that each lab gets the same results. My local hospital's policy is that they do a final cross match 1 week before surgery, but apparently the hospital I am going to be donating at won't need that as we just did a confirmation.
So, hopefully I am done with needles until the 22nd. The 22nd is the day of my pre-op clinic, which is essentially a full day of tests to confirm that I am healthy and that all the information they have is the latest and greatest. Chest Xrays, EKGs, etc. I can do that.
I did have a chance to talk with my coordinator just after the test today and we talked about some of the specifics relating to pre and post op. Again, the different hospitals do things a bit differently, but she did give me a general idea of what to expect.
My surgery is on a Thursday, so I will either be admitted on Wednesday or even Thursday morning. The surgery is typically first thing, and I will be pretty out of it right after due to the anesthetic. Apparently most patients report nausea after surgery due to the drugs and anesthetic, and they pump my abdomen full of CO2 to give the surgeons room to work so I will be really bloated. I will be in the hospital until my bowels start working, but apparently will also have a catheter in. Yay. The good news is they put that in just before surgery when I am already out. Apparently they need to monitor what is coming out as well as what is going it.
From the sounds of things, once I am out of the hospital I am good to return home and will have my 2week post-op appointment here.
As for what life is like immediately post-op, there is no lifting (nothing over 10lbs), no bending, lots of rest, and it will take a while to get my appetite back. I will need to make sure that I am walking and not in bed all the time but still resting when I need to. I can do that.
Apparently it is 3 holes for the surgery, 1 for the camera, 1 for the instruments, and 1 for the kidney removal. Oh! I totally forgot. Apparently it is a urologist who will be doing the surgery, a doctor who deals with nothing but the kidneys and kidney surgery. Just another one of those slightly different things, but still worth noting. Anyways, back to the holes. The one for kidney extraction is right by my bellybutton, and the others are one on each side. Apparently these take up to 6 weeks to heal (they heal from the inside out), which is one of the reasons why bending and lifting are out of the question for the first few weeks.
It will also take a while to get my appetite back and also to be on solid foods. I'm okay with that. My father-in-law (FIL) will be coming to stay with us for about a week when we get back (which might be sooner than expected) and the good news is that he makes fantastic soup. If I'm not up for solid foods or anything like that, at least I will have tasty soup waiting for me. Plus he is great company and since its getting cold out I will be pretty much confined to the condo. Will be really nice having someone there so I don't go stark raving mad because I'm alone too much.
I think I can handle everything thats going on, and know that between my husband and my mother I don't need to worry, they are doing enough of that between themselves.
I'm excited, I really am. Just not for needles. I really hate them. Hate everything about them. I'm not a fainter, but I do need to stay distracted when they take blood or it does make me light-headed and weak.
So here's my question to you: What was life like for you immediately post-op? What did it feel like? Any tips/tricks for making it easier? If you got a kidney, could you feel the change when you woke up? I'd love to hear about any/all experiences, the more I read the better prepared I am for my own.
Thanks!
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