Sunday, January 20, 2013

2013 and JOY

 The photo above caught my eye because I was sure if someone took a photo of my heart, this would be it.  I was leaping into the air, stemming from pure joy because I could not wait to leap into my future.  There would be little looking back, except to breathe a sigh of relief, pause to give thanks or to remember why I was so thankful for my wonderful future.  Yet, in order to appreciate the joy, we must sometimes remember.


After nearly 42 years of marriage, I finally "get" it.  Married life is not about a good or bad weekend, month or even a tumultuous year.  It is about a lifetime of putting shoulder to shoulder and making your way through life's adventures, joys and  unfortunately, sorrows.  What a blessing to have a partner in that journey.  My worst fear was to face it alone.  After 2 years of gut wrenching fear being my constant companion, the dawn of 2013  is filled with promise. 

I know the rest of the world faces illness every day.  This time it was MY  husband who seemed to suddenly spiral downward, each day bringing a new complication.  Rarely did I have the time to lament over how unfair it was, this final insult,  after too many punches in the past few years.   

 From diagnosis to new diagnosis, I was reading and searching for knowledge.  It was a challenge to keep up and understand what was happening. The days were filled with hospitals,  phone calls, new doctors,  new diets, medications and many miles driven.  As I sat compiling numbers for my tax return,  I had to recalculate over and over to believe we had traveled well  over 8,000 miles driving to pharmacies, doctors and hospitals.  

After a lifesaving heart surgery, being told that he needed a kidney transplant seemed like something out of a sad Lifetime Movie.  We were first sent to dialysis classes, and quickly realized that while it was a life-extending treatment, it was not a permanent solution.  It was miserable and only a temporary means to cope with  a life ending disease.  Transplant lists usually brought a 3-5 year wait and patients often did not last that long.  There are just not enough donors.  We were told that our children could provide the best chance and the oldest 2 stepped right up to be tested first.  They both matched.  It was getting real.  

On November 16, 2012 we left the Ann Arbor motel room in the early dark hours of the morning.  There was so much to be said, yet both of us seemed to afraid to speak what was in our hearts.  We quietly drove to the University Hospital and met our daughter in the surgery waiting room.  She and her father stepped up to the desk together, smiling and acting as if it was an every day affair to check in and share human organs.  No drama, just love.  

Father and daughter walked in, leaving my son in law and I with a quick kiss and a smile.  He and I sat there and looked at each other, keeping up the ruse.  No big deal, right?  Wrong.  As the sun slowly rose, I thought of my first born child laying in surgery, giving up her kidney to save her father's life.  No amount of statistics could ease the anxiety in my soul.  Then, to my surprise, my husband walked back out of the surgery area.  With IVs inserted, he was told to wait with us until his kidney was "ready".  This was just too weird now.  Our little girl was in there and it was hard not to talk of  fears and to focus on the miracle we hoped for.  

The transplant surgeon emerged about an hour later with a big smile on his face.  "Everything is going like text book.  I've been watching your daughter's surgery and we should have a kidney in about 15 minutes, so be ready to go!"  We just stared at each other. It felt like waiting for a baby to be born and I realized she was giving birth to her father's new life.  She would endure pain and bring forth new life.  

During the hours, they both lay in surgery, I embraced the statistics.  They would be fine. No complications, no organ rejection.  Just absolute success.   I would not accept any other answer and for the 1000's of reasons that I ran through my head,  I just knew it was going to be ok.   Then my name was called and my heart skipped a beat.  I could see my daughter now.  Quiet, but with a face that showed great pain, she lay there looking so tiny in that big white bed.  The nurses encouraged me to talk to her and to try to get her to verbally respond.  I knew my stubborn girl and as she shook her head "No!"  every time I asked her to speak, I sat quietly by her.  This was not a day when I could push her to do anything.  Thankfully, my friend stepped in and did what I could not.  

Then a nurse called my name again.  "Your husband is back!"  I stood in that large recovery room with my husband on one side and my daughter on the other.  I literally did not know how to move from one to the other.  Thankful for my friend, who was lovingly tending to my daughter, I walked the few steps to my husband's bedside where the doctors and nurses were jubilant over the success of the surgery.  At that moment, I was felt close to collapse from sheer joy and relief.  An hour later, on the way to much needed food, I swooned as if out of an old southern novel.  

It was really over.  It really worked.  2 years of fear washed away in an instant.  Although there would be recovery days, medications and doctor visits, she had saved his life.  Moreover, she had given him a quality of life that would bring a real future.  Since birth, she had always felt like a little miracle, but never in a lifetime could someone do anything bigger than what she had just done with such humility.  Here is Cat embracing her baby girl, after coming home from the hospital.


Today, he gets up and goes to work each day.  He enjoys Skype sessions with his grandchildren, signed up for the gym to rebuild his strength and is back announcing at the High School wrestling meets.    He is able to eat a normal meal without fear and to talk about going fishing this summer.    We are dreaming and planning our retirement without calculating the miles to a hospital or dialysis center.   

2013 is filled with promise, because 2012 held a miracle.




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