Tina's Story
One year ago today, I was marching into Duke University
Hospital to manage a day of patient care.
You see, walking into a hospital for a day of patient care, is an
ordinary occurrence, but doing so for those you love, is completely
different. I was going through many
emotional and mental changes and transitions at this time, and couldn’t imagine
that a year later I would still be going through this transition.
As Fran and I traveled down to NC last year, I had not a
doubt in my mind that all would go well, but I also had no visualization of
what was ahead of me. I didn’t have time
to make a real plan, which is NOT the way I do things. I had too much to prepare at home and had no previous
experiences in the organ transplant realm. I am glad I had no picture or
plan. Nothing could have prepared me for
the journey it started. Those who know
me, know that I will do everything in my power to help someone I care about in
need. If you need meals, I can do that,
if you need help with your kids, I’ve got that, if you need my time or brain
power, no problem. This experience
pulled from every resource I had still required more. It was the most life changing week of my
life. I thought it was life changing as
it occurred, and it was, but I was so busy I didn’t have time to process it
all.
I met a woman that gave me a greater perspective on
life. She was on a journey that I
couldn’t imagine. Within minutes of
meeting her, I put myself in her shoes, and very quickly wanted to give those
shoes back to her. I knew my
personality was exactly what she needed in her life at that time. I had just enough medical knowledge to
contribute a few words, time to listen, love to give and a shoulder to cry on. I was meant to be there to care for more than
just Sarah, which I realized quickly, but didn’t realize I was there to change
myself.
I took for granted the support system that I have in
place. In a moment’s notice, I can have multiple
family members by my side, and that is not counting the multiple friends that
would be there as well. To see this
mother there by herself to watch her son go through this life changing surgery,
was unimaginable to me. From the hours
in actual surgery, to the days that followed, I learned to love this woman like
any family member. We came from
different worlds and have been down different roads, but came together to
support this little boy.
I can’t describe the feeling of being in the room as this
little boy was seizing and crying with his mother as we watched the team work
on him. I get that same sick feeling in
my stomach thinking about it now. I got
the momma bear instinct instantly. I
wanted to be sure every person involved was doing their job to the best of
their ability. Sometimes that meant
pressing the call bell every 5 minutes until we received the meds we were
requesting, sometimes it was standing in the hallway stopping any person who
may be able to help us, sometimes it was simply bringing lunch to this amazing
woman who stayed by her son’s side 24 hours a day for weeks at a time. Each and every task was as meaningful as the
last.
To say I got a life perspective is an understatement. Sarah has always taught me about being
selfless and trusting God in every way, but my journey wasn’t about this
surgery, it was about the people surrounding it. It was about appreciating our health, our
families and our ability to help others.
To see this little boy go from deathly ill, to having a healthy future
in view is beyond anything you can imagine.
To feel the helplessness of having no control over what is happening
around you certainly brings you to your humble knees in a hurry. To this day, I think of this little boy and
his mother at least once a day. I think
of the journey we have been on together, I think of the battles his mother
fights every day for him. I count my
blessings and still feel blessed and thankful to be lucky enough to be a part
of it. I would do it again in a
heartbeat. These changes don’t even take
into consideration my changes of thought on organ donation. I have always been an organ donor and been in
full support of it, but it is taken to a new level. To witness both sides of
the surgery is a perspective few people get.
To witness a life being saved…it just can’t be put into words. I am a better person by being a part of this
journey. I can thank Elijah for changing
my life, I can thank Sarah for allowing me to be a part of it.
Sarah's Story
I didn’t
think I’d be so affected a year out from liver surgery. Really, I’ve learned the lessons I was meant
to learn, I appreciate life so differently, and I’m healing well (except for
the blasted itchiness of my scar). I
guess I can thank Facebook for reminding me of all the things that were posted
the few days leading up to surgery, during my stay in the hospital, and my
recovery at home. Throughout this past
year I often thought of the whole ordeal but these past few weeks it has
weighed heavily on my mind.
As I
reflected back, I noticed a clear and distinct trend about what my mind chose
to remember. After my first round of
testing at Duke it was determined that my body and liver were perfect as long
as Elijah’s team agreed. I didn’t remember
the long drive along back and forth from Duke, I didn’t remember waking up
super early to travel, and I didn’t remember the (what felt like) 8 million
blood tests and MRI’s. I remember Tina,
my Mom, and Rebekah nonchalantly giving me their blessing and reassuring me
they would do whatever they could if it worked out. I remember the confidence Jordan had in my
ability to make the right decision and the ability of the doctors to perform
well if indeed I was chosen. I remember
the clear understanding the kids voiced when I told them this was a
possibility.
Late
afternoon on Tuesday May 12, 2015 I was informed I needed to be at Duke
Thursday evening for an early Friday morning prep for surgery. What I didn’t remember was the exhaustion I
experienced running like a nut on Wednesday and Thursday to make sure the
pantry and refrigerator were full, bed linens were washed, dog food was
ordered, school was notified, POA’s were updated, etc. What I remember is that two hours…that’s just
TWO HOURS…after I “got the call” Tina and my Mom had not only cleared their
schedules to come down and support us but they also managed to gather freezers
full of meals from friends and family in PA.
I remember Rebekah and Tracey reassuring me that my kids would be fine
and would be loved. I remember thinking
what a blessing it was to not even have to make a list of what needs to be done
in my home. I don’t remember how tired I
was at 8:00 pm Thursday night when I still had to pack and had a three hour
drive to Duke. I don’t remember what
clothes I packed or what books I intended to read. I remember Brea’s big huge stuffed dog that
she insisted I take with me. I remember
kissing my kids and leaving with a peace that can only be explained one way.
Friday
morning I don’t remember all the surgery prep, I remember how sweet and caring
my transplant team was. Friday after
surgery I don’t remember the discomfort of the NG tube, catheter, and O2. I remember waking up and seeing Tina’s face
and hearing her talk to me like we always do.
I remember that Pastor Steve called to check on me. I remember wanted to call my mom. Friday night I don’t remember the discomfort,
I remember waking up scared to death because I couldn’t see Tina. I remember the dear nurse who instead comforted
me and told me that my friend would be back at 4:00 am because she needed some
sleep too.
Saturday I
don’t remember the continued irritation from the NG tube. I remember that Tina brought my favorite
coffee and helped me put on my make-up.
I don’t remember the painful first steps with the walker but the nurses
other patients who cheered me on as I walked slowly down the hall. Saturday night into Sunday while I know I had
extreme amounts of pain, I don’t even remember how bad it was. I do remember Tina fighting so fiercely for
it to be managed. I remember hearing the
buzz of my phone and reading all the dozens and dozens of encouraging texts and
Facebook messages. I remember the
prayers that were sent via text in the middle of the night from those of you
who woke up and prayed. I remember the
fiery look on Tina’s face when she told the nurses and doctors that THEY had no
option. THEY were going to manage this
pain or SHE was calling someone who could.
Saturday
night I don’t remember the pain and discomfort of the long elevator ride to the
children’s wing. I remember being
awestruck as I met Renae and Elijah for the first time. I remember feeling connected to them without
even knowing them. I remember knowing
that I just witnessed a miracle.
The rest of
the days there I don’t remember the discomfort of having to only lie on my back
or sit in the chair. I remember Tina
keeping me company. I remember the phone
calls and cards from family and friends to encourage me. I remember hearing the cheerful voices of my
kids as they were excited to finish their last week of school. I remember all the updates from my mom and
Rebekah about all the meals that were continuing to be dropped off at the house
and those that the church arranged to have delivered every single night for six
weeks. I don’t remember how hard it was
to shower, I remember Tina helping me and joking about so we could at least
laugh instead of die of embarrassment.
I don’t
remember worrying about what Jordan would think (remember, he didn’t know this
was a sure thing). I just remember four
days after surgery when he showed up at the hospital and held me in his
arms. I remember having to stay longer
than expected and being so very sad when Tina and my Mom had to leave. I remember Jordan making the six hour round
trip drive each day after that to visit me while still being with the
kids. Once discharged while I know the
drive home was torturous, I remember Jordan driving excruciatingly slow, trying
to avoid every bump and sudden stop so that I would be more comfortable.
For the next
six weeks, I don’t remember the aches, the sleepless nights, the incision, the
bruises, etc. I remember the love shown
by everyone. I remember being utterly
overwhelmed by the love and support shown in so many ways and feeling so
unworthy.
I write all
this to prove my point and drive home the theme that all the memories that
stuck with me have: the all have to do
with relationships…not stuff.
Life is
about relationships. And good
relationships are about love. And love
is about sacrifice, about putting others above yourself. Every single memory that has stuck with me
the past year has to do with the relationships I’ve formed with those around
me. It was everything to do with folks
sacrificing to help out through their time, energy, and resources. I still am amazed (so very amazed) and
humbled at how the entire process was pulled off flawlessly. That’s no simple feat with the hospital being
three hours away, living near no family, having six kids, and having husband
who was away. I realize how incredibly
blessed I am to have so much love and support.
As I type that sentence and as I say that sentence, the words just don’t
seem to do it justice.
I encourage you all. For those of you who already doing and
helping and serving – keep doing it. God
created us to love each other. To serve
each other. The beautiful thing about
serving is it brings equal amounts of joy to both parties. For those of who you who may choose the “my
four and no more” mantra, branch out. Invest
yourself, your time, your resources.
When you serve others and when others serve you, that’s what you’ll
remember. Those are the memories you’ll
hang onto. Those are the times your cup
will be so full and you’ll be overflowing with joy. The person you help may need it more than you
realize. You just may be the light in
the darkness they need. You just may be
the small glimpse of God they see in their life. You may incite them to adopt the same
attitude and they’ll pay it forward and serve when they can. Regardless of how they perceive, I can
guarantee it will change you. The more
you serve, the more you realize the blessings you have be given.
"Little children (believers, dear ones), let us not love [merely in theory] with word or with tongue [giving lip service to compassion], but in action and in truth [in practice and in sincerity, because practical acts of love are more than words]." - 1 John 3:18 AMP
