In my last post I shared my experience preparing to become a living kidney donor. In Part 2, we’ll cover the day of the surgery and the week and a half I spent taking it easy in recovery.
Part 1 left me a couple of days before surgery when I was signing a few documents and figuring out the basic information I would need (when to arrive, where to park my car, etc.). So let’s pick it up the morning of surgery.
Step 8 – Morning prep
When I say morning, I mean technically after midnight. I didn’t sleep much. And I had to get up super early. I was scheduled to check in at the hospital by 5AM.
At 3:30 AM I was riding an emotional roller coaster. One minute I’m dreadfully nervous, the next peacefully resolute. I remember telling my wife I felt ready. I’m not sure that was true, but I wanted it to be. So I said it hoping I’d start believing it.
There was a song stuck in my head all morning. One that had become very important to me during this whole process – Us For Them by the band Gungor. It’s one of my favorite songs. In fact I bought a t-shirt with some of the lyrics – “If it’s us or them, it’s us for them.” I listened to it while I finished getting ready.
They give you this soap that smells like the strongest hospital-grade disinfectant you can imagine.
Instructions: Use half the bottle in the shower the night before the surgery, and the other half of the bottle right before you head to the hospital. Scrub your torso thoroughly. Step out of the shower smelling of modern medicine.
Step 9 – Check-in
The nerves really kick in when you step foot in the hospital. You’ll have that nervous and excited feeling you get right before a big test, or a huge presentation – you feel ready, but you’re also just ready for it to be done. The good news is you’re very close to your goal.
After a brief wait they take you to a holding room where you change into your standard issue hospital gear, compression socks and a gown. At this point, my family came back to wait with me. I asked my dad to pray, and then they wheeled me into a different holding area where only my wife could accompany me. We waited a few more minutes, met with the surgeon and the anesthesiologist. After that guy arrives things get fuzzy. He gave me what he described as “I don’t care” medicine. I remember kissing my wife… and
Step 10 – It’s done
What seemed like 30 seconds later (about 4 and a half hours later) I was in a different building in a nice room surrounded by family members. I was groggy, but aware of my surroundings. Apparently I’d been awake for a while.
When I was in the recovery room (a step I have literally no memory of), the anesthesiologist came to check on me. Here is an approximate transcript of our conversation (according to my wife who he relayed the story to).
Doctor: Jon, can you hear me? How are you feeling? Do you have any pain?
Me: You got any jokes?
Doctor: Um… well I don’t know. My jokes are all pretty corny.
Me: Whatever dude. I’m a dad.
Doctor: Okay here it goes: I went to the proctologist last week for a prostate exam. He was very impressed. He said it was the best prostate he’d examined in a long time. I was deeply touched.
Me: That’s actually pretty good.
Step 11 – Head home and take it easy
After only one night in the hospital for observation, I get to go home. After a tricky car ride where my wife did an excellent job avoiding bumps, I’m back at my house. My brother and his wife who’d been watching our two kids greet us at the door. My brother takes a look at my state. A little hunched over, walking slowly wearing slippers and sweatpants. As he helps me into the house he asks casually, “So you dress like this in public now?”
I felt incredible love and support from friends, family, colleagues, and clients. Some came to visit, some bought me lunch, many people sent Edible Arrangements, and I’m not mad about it.
I was out of the office for two weeks, but I felt well enough to work after one week. That second week I stopped taking the prescriptions and switched to Tylenol. I felt well enough that I was bored. So I started taking work calls.
While pain was never really a problem, fatigue was. Those first two or three weeks you’ll be tired. It’s normal. And it goes away completely after about a month.
Step 12 – Other people carry your luggage
I wasn’t supposed to lift more than 10 pounds for 6 weeks. But I could go to work. And for me work means travel. For a while there, I couldn’t travel alone. And most of the people on my team are women. So you can imagine the visual. A middle-aged, bald white guy walking through an airport unencumbered by luggage while a younger female colleague carries two bags behind him.
Step 13 – (Almost) Like it never even happened.
After my six week check-up, restrictions were lifted and I resumed a completely normal routine. Today the only real differences in my lifestyle are Tylenol instead Advil for a headache, and a few other over-the-counter drug restrictions if I get a cold or something. I’m just as physically healthy as I was before. Probably a little healthier actually, because I’m more intentional about fitness.
But physical fitness isn’t the whole story. This process has had an enormous impact on my mental, emotional, and Spiritual health too. More on that in a future post.
