1.17.08: Snow

I haven't written in a while, and that might make one think that I am just busy as ever having the time of my life. No. Let me tell you a little about how life has been.

For the past 2 and a half weeks, since new years, I have discovered the joys of cable and daytime television, developed an extreme and intense hatred for female education majors attending Furman University, and begun a workout regimen.

Currently, there is tons of snow on the ground, and for the first time, I am not excited, nor interested in venturing out in it. While I am not necessarily tired of being stuck in the house, I just miss social interactions with people... and I hate feeling helpless. Currently, there is no food in the house, and there is a world outside Stratus Court that I am dying to experience again.

Unfortunately, my excursions have been confined to trips down Poinsett Highway to Furman, where I am taking my final Masters class. Oh. My. God. I HATE IT. I don't really hate the subject in which we are studying, which is culture, nor do I hate the teachers. I hate my classmates. Beth is the only person I really like. And Lauren, who is this girl that I had to talk with blindfolded on the second night of class. I also like Holly, who is this loud, older lady that sits in front of Beth and me. I also like the people that sit to the left of her. Everyone else though (including "Charlotte York" and the chicks that sit at the table to the right of her), I despise... A LOT.

See, I feel like I am confined to things that I really want nothing to do with: sorry females, a refrigerator void of food, and this computer which I am beginning to loathe as well. I am spending way too much time checking my facebook every 5 to 10 minutes.

The most amazing thing about my day is 10 am to 1:30 pm.

Let's Make a Deal. Press Your Luck. Rachael Ray. Barefoot Contessa. Semi-Home Made. Paula's Home Cooking.

Love television. So sad. BUT... I do work out now. Like I said, come 4 o'clock... it's time for Turbo Jam. Today that will be at 3, though. I believe I am going to Clemson. Thank God.

12.27.07: The Letter

So I went back to Charleston for a check-up today... let's just say that it was a super long day. Surprisingly, I have no problem being stuck inside my house. I would rather be here all day loing than dragged about in the street. Maybe it's because I'm not the one behind the wheel and it's my control issues coming through. I dunno.

Anyway, things appear to be good. I kinda thought that it would, 'cause I feel great. I am in relatively good spirits, and I feel the best I ever have. Today, they also took out my staples... SO glad about that. It didn't really hurt either--I wasn't really apprehensive about it, really just very anxious to get them out because they were a little bothersome.

Yesterday, we were over at my aunt's house helping her do a little decorating when a story about Jason Ray came on. Jason was the UNC Tarheels' mascot and he died this past spring due to head trauma. Jason blessed the lives of close to 50 people by donating his organs. It was a mesmerizing story and it brought my mom to tears... not just tears, but sobs. So many times, she is so strong and stoic and I never really know if anything truly moves her to very strong emotions. This did.

I didn't cry. I was just in this thankful, peaceful state, thinking about how twisted this whole process is. Someone has to die for someone else to live. I know I've said it before, but just think about it... To all my friends and family who love me and who are so excited for me, there are also friends and family of another individual who are mourning right now. It seems so unfair, and I can't feel anything but completely indebted to that individual.

Now, I am plagued with the tast of writing a letter to the donor family. I am thoroughly excited to share my feelings with them, but I just want it to be perfect. I want them to know how thankful I am, but I also want it to help them find peace during their time of loss. I would love to be able to establish some type of relationship with them, just so that they know that part of their son still lives on.

I thought I would publish it, but I don't think I will. I want it to be personal... almost like from a son to a parent.

I just hope that it is as heartfelt as it is meant to be...

12.23.24: Not Feeling Like Christmas

Do not jump all over me for the title of this entry.

I know... I got the most amazing gift ever this Christmas. Yes. I did. It is an amazing gift which I am ever so thankful for...

And now... I just accidentally deleted a whole bunch of stuff that I just typed, and I am too annoyed to try to type it again. So here goes since I haven't updated in a while.

I'm bored, but not upset about being stuck in the house.
I miss social interaction.
I got Food Network and now I can spend time with Rachael everyday.
I can't find my other pair of sweatpants (sweatpants and pajama pants are all I wear now).
I took a walk today and had to pass by Kate's without saying hi (b/c of the dogs).

I think that's it. I'm outtie.

12.19.07: Home Again

I am home.

We came home to Greenville on Monday after a long day in clinic... all the excitement of getting out of Charleston and back up 26 is why I haven't written in a day or two.

I had to stay with the parents on Monday night, which was... interesting...

I was telling Jamie last night, that even though I grew up in that house and at one time that was home, it really doesn't feel like it anymore. I don't know why exactly... Maybe because I have been in my own house for almost 2 and a half years?

At any rate, last night, after coming in, taking a shower, and plopping down on the sofa, it felt SO GOOD! Like right now, I am on the couch under a blanket watching The View. This, I guess is the life of a homemaker. The television and the hum of the dryer are the only noises in the house, and it's funny. Since I have nothing to do, it seems like I have everything to do. Every time I walk past something the least bit dirty or unkempt, I take the time to clean or fix it.

Ugh. Now the news is coming on and the remote control is nowhere near. Plus, the dryer stopped, and it's noon. I guess it's time to eat lunch.

It's going to be a long month or so...

As for pain, it's all good. I'm moving around well, and the only thing really bugging me are these staples. Hopefully they will come out a week from tomorrow when I go back to Charleston next week. Going to Greenville Memorial tomorrow to get blood drawn.

12.15.07: Confinement

My mom almost drowned me today.

See, the more you drink with a new kidney, the better your creatinine is. Don't ask me what it is. Just go here and read about it. Anyway, if you drink a lot, the kidney flushes it out, which is a good thing... it lets the doctors know that the kidney is working correctly and that all is go.

Well, among discussions of metric to customary conversions and comparisons of high ball glasses to 7-Up bottles to 3 liter Zephyrhills water contianers, I probably drank well over 2 liters of fluid today. My mom was convinced that the Home Health nurse said to drink two 2 liters. Well if that was the case, wouldn't she have said 4 liters? I dunno.

Anyway, this was all due to the fact that there was really nothing to do today. My mom tried to make me go to the outlet mall across the street, but I just wasn't feeling it. It wasn't the fact that I didn't want to be there, nor was it the fact that it was raining. I just didn't like the fact that I was there, yet I wasn't "in all my glory." I LOVE outlet malls... Gap, Old Navy, Perry Ellis, Timberland... and for the first time ever, my interest was struck by a cooking outlet store! I just couldn't do it. I couldn't hobble around there without being able to freely stroll from store to store and splurge copious amounts of money. There was just no way I could do that. So, I begged to return to the confines of room 104.

Trust me, I had no problem in doing this. Walking back into this room at around 1:30 or so was highly welcome... and you know what? I only left once to go pick up some mail (from Beth and her class and Ms. Virginia and Mr. Terrence).

I played computer games all day long.

It was kind of nice to be geek squad all day long. I liked it. I had nothing really to worry about except whether or not I could clear the level on Bejeweled or make it bast Darla's Diner on Diner Dash (I couldn't).

So being cooped up today was good. And I am feeling pretty good too. I think the mornings are going to be the worst. I woke up this morning so frustrated... similar to yesterday morning. I don't know... maybe because I sleep so well and know that I am waking up to hobbling around in pain, drinking bathtub-fulls of water, and peeing ever 7.8 minutes. I dunno. I am going to blame it on the Prednisonitis... which I know it isn't because I take Prednisone in the morning with breakfast, and there is no way that 24 hours later, it is still having effects on me. I do know one thing... if this means that I am no longer going to be a morning person, I hate it for my kids when I get back to school. Woof...

After I woke up this morning and accompanied my mom in the workout room while she did the treadmill and we watched Robin Miller and Sandra Lee on the most amazing network in the ultraverse, I came back to the room and watched my ladies in bed. Can I just tell you that there is something comforting about the divas of the Food Network while you are laid up somewhere. I think it took me back to ye olde days of dialysis... oh wait... last week. No, seriously, I felt so comforted by them when I would be hooked up to that machine, it was like as soon as I hit the bed and Paula was saying her "y'alls" and throwing butter into everything, I was at home. I was LIGHTS OUT. And Rachael came on this morning too. I didn't even see her, but I did hear her in my sleep... she was making gingerbread waffles. I was just soothed to sleep by the sounds of my girls. ::sigh:: I really am going to miss that part of dialysis.

Maybe this week long recovery from surgery is giving me a chance to get my Food Network fix since I won't be getting it anymore...

...trust me, I'm not complaining. The fact that I won't have those 4 hours every other day with them does not hurt my feelings... PRAISE THE LORD for bathtub-fulls of water and peeing every 7.8 minutes...

...I got a kidney.

12.14.07: The Donor

So today, I was up on my feet more than I have been since Sunday.

It started with me waking up at 6 am in tears. I have no idea whether it was the Prednisonitis that my Home Health Nurse warned me about, or just the fact that it was so ridiculously early and I was in so much pain. Who knows. The day got better.

We headed into downtown Charleston where we went to MUSC's Rutledge Tower for my appointment at the clinic. It was a good experience overall. I had to go to the same place about a year and a half ago to get the ball rolling on this whole endeavor, so it was kind of neat to see where it all began again. It also felt good to be on the "working kidney" side of things.

While I was there, I read a bulletin board about successful kidney and liver transplants and on it was the story of an 18 year old life guarding soccer player that got a liver transplant and a 19 year old college sophomore who gave her mom a kidney. It really made me feel kind of dumb for being so whiny earlier in the morning. There were younger people who had to go through situations similar to mine that dealt with it, came through, and are living examples of how great transplantation can be.

And speaking of younger people, today, I found out a little bit about the kidney that is now inside me pumping out gallons and gallons of urine.

We were in the exam room and the pharmacist was going over my 9 new medicines that
I have to take... he had a chart on which he was marking things off, and he glanced down and said that neither I nor my donor had some illness. Then I got curious... What else does it say about my donor on that thing? I was (no pun intended) dying to know. So I glanced down, ever so coyly, not to let the pharmacist realize just how nosy I was being. This is all I could make out from the doctor's scribble on the chart...

Donor Name: o Donor Sex: M Donor Age: 18

An 18 year old male... part of him now living inside of me. Do you realize how amazing science is? While his life is over, his soul gone, part of him lives on inside me, allowing my life and soul to go on. I don't know what it was that caused his death... I'm assuming something accidental or freak since his kidney was healthy enough to be transplanted. It's just fascinating.

I will never know this person... never get to thank them... never get to share my apprectiation. And for that matter, if I was able to, I technically wouldn't have the kidney.

It's all so overwhelming.

Anyway, with this 18 year old guy haunting my spirit all afternoon, we went to Wal-Mart so I could stay on my feet and walk around, then we went to Chick-fil-A (where I had french fries and ketchup guiltlessly thankyouverymuch), and then I came home and took an amazing nap. This evening, my mom and I played that old school mystery guessing game "Guess Who?" which we bought on our Wal-Mart excursion. The rest of the evening was spent rocking out to my iTunes and finishing my research paper (which is complete now).

I was pleasantly interrupted by (in this order) Kate, Nic, Jenee, Nick, Tex, Zach, Mishelle, Missy, and Hoke who were celebrating the holidays at Kate's house back home. They cheerfully passed the phone around the room and shared love and well wishes, which didn't make me feel sad at all. It just made me thankful. I am so thankful to have friends to think of me while I am not there. And it is for that reason, that I will not live another day without being thankful for the person who made my life possible even though he is no longer here.

To the 18 year old male... Thanks.

12.13.07: Discharged

Well, it was about 3 days ago to this very moment that I was coming out of surgery. I was without the need of dialysis, but with a new kidney.

Ever gotten something and you were just like, where did this come from? Now that I ask the question, I realize, no--most people recieve something and they know where it comes from. I don't have a clue as to where this kidney came from, or who it used to belong to, but the whole point of the matter is that what is now inside me making me pee uncontrollably once belonged to someone else.

Part of me wants to know who it belonged to, or what happened to them. Obviously they died. But what kind of person were they. I mean, did they ever think that in death, they would be giving life?

The other part of me wants nothing to do with that person's family. My sudden obsessive compulsive personality makes me think that I would dwell on that family and try to continuously devote my life to repaying them for such a gift.

I dunno. In any case, this blog is dedicated to that person that now lives within me.

Anyway, It was about this time... 9:00 on Monday evening that I came out of surgery. The day before, I was hanging out with Beth, Rod, and my brother and Beth and I were talking about how "not a big deal" surgery was.

"It's like it only lasts 5 minutes."
"I've had it done like twice before."
"I could do it again."

I had no idea that I would be doing it again the following day. I had no idea that I would be laying on a gurney being pumped full of some mysterious liquid that would make me forget everything that was going on aroung me in just 5 minutes.

That's what it was like. Nathan, the anesthesiologist put this stuff in my arm, rolled me away from my parents, and as soon as I was in that room, I was out. I mean, I couldn't see anything anyway... my glasses were gone... and honestly, I didn't want to see much of anything.

And even before that, I wasn't nervous. I wasn't scared. I wasn't anxious. To be honest, I was insanely tired. I was sitting waiting for the nurse to set everything up and I almost dozed off. My mom reminded me of the faith that I had. I hate to say that I am full of huge faith, but truly, I had no worries laying on that bed rolling into the OR. I knew I was going to come out and I was going to be in pain, and again, like I had said not even 24 hours before, I knew it was only going to seem like it lasted about 5 minutes.

So yeah... I woke up on my back with a lot of pressure on my left side. My throat hurt, and I couldn't see anything. I was in some room that clearly wasn't the OR anymore, and it was full of really nice ladies in blue. They were chit-chatting and just carrying on like what had just happened was no big deal.

Well, I got to 618 East, my hospital room, and at that time, I realized how big of a deal it was. I broke down in tears, thankful to God for what had just happened. "It's over," was all I could think.

It's over.
The surgery.
It's over.
The dialysis.
It's over.
What had been ongoing ever since I was just a few months old.

It was over.
I had no real way to express what I was feeling except to burst out in tears. I really was thankful. I know at times I don't seem highly thankful or appreciative of God, but I am. And it seems like I had always been waiting for Him to get a reaction like that out of me. And I think that is what happened. It was like I wasn't in any pain... Even people who talked to me on the phone that night claimed that I seemed like I was fine... in a great mood.

I can't believe it, seeing all the pain that I was in later and am in now.

And now, I am in even more pain... I just learned that I am basically going to be out of commision until March... No real socializing or hanging out. I have to stay away from germs. Including my class. So. Yeah. The ups and downs... I dunno.

I'm missing so many people already. So... I guess I have to get used to not seeing them or being aroiund them.

Now, it's time for bed. I have clinic in the morning and a long night of sleeping on my back, drinking lots of water and getting up to use the bathroom every 30 minutes.

Thanks for letting me know that I am missed. It truly makes me feel incredibly loved. I miss you too.