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This is a story detailing my battle with Liver Disease and the events the got me here. It is a story of hope and determination and inspiration.

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Sunday, December 9, 2012

Still waiting.

December 8th, 2011

Of course I answered the phone, there was no question. I was tired, the timing was horrible, the odds of an actual transplant happening in my mind where slim but I had to make one more trip. Worse yet, I had to wake my mother to drive me. I figured it be two trips up and back to Indie in one day. But I was lucky enough to be on a list, someone lost their life and many people lost someone they loved and I'd potentially get a gift from them. It wasn't even a choice.

I didn't call anyone on the way up to the hospital. Previously I was called up twice and sent home twice, the disappointment was smothering, I knew my time would come, but when. Driving two to three hours anticipating the knife, going to sleep with the possibility of never waking up or waking up with renewed hope! Wow. What a mind fuck to be turned away. The first time I was called up I couldn't contain myself. I called everyone I knew... "Guess what? I'm on my way! I'm getting a new liver! I'll be back to my old self in a matter of weeks!!"  I ate my words. I was sent home. My wife got on a flight only to turn back at her lay over after I was told they wouldn't be cutting me open. At the time, I thought it was selfless of her, keeping OUR interest and the interest of our children at heart. Now, I know differently.

I didn't feel sorry for myself through this whole ordeal. I felt blessed. I was thankful. Lucky, presented with a fight, something that would make me stronger. Never backing down from a fight or a challenge I was ready to meet this one head on. Remembering the day Doctor Chueh told me I was sick it was sort of a relief. Oh, this is how I'll die I thought to myself. Old age, a motorcycle accident, a drug overdose won't be my end after all, liver failure, cancer will be my demise. Of course that's only the musing of a romantic mind and when you fall in love, have children and fall in love with them everything changes.

I prayed and pled feverently that I might make it through this ordeal just for them. Personally, I pretty much desevered anything that came my way. Those that were close to me didn't deserve any of the pain, suffering, tears or drives and sitting by my bed side that they endured. My family and friends are filled with grace. I'm one lucky bastard. My best friend from high school, who I hadn't seen in years made the drive up with his son just to "look at my scar". He also held my hand and told me I was an ass hole, prophasized that I'd "still throw a foot ball like a girl" and that my left wing polotical slant was pussyesque. I saw love and compassion in his eys and was thankful and sorry he was there. That all came a few weeks from now, I wanted to share about the night of the seventh.

We drove up in silence to Indie, we nearly always did. My mom drove me up mostly and today wasn't any different. She had a tape of the Rosary that she played a lot in the car. I found it annoying after awhile but I do Love the Rosary. It was so often monochromatic in it's prayer. Sister "without any inflection" in her voice needed a little Black Southern Baptist thrown in everyonceinawhile. Sounded like a loop.

We made the drive and I wasn't very hopeful about a new liver. I couldn't allow myself to think I'd actually go into the O.R. my short history being as it was. So, I got checked in and went through the procedures... vitals taken, chest x-ray, i-v implanted, showered, shaved. Lie in bed and wait. The anxiety was, well, I can't describe it. You're in a bed, with curtains drawn slightly, maybe one person and their family are waiting too. Are we waiting for the same organ? Is this a competation?! Cuz I'll kick that old ladies ass laying across the hallway if I have too!! Actually, she could probably take me down in the shape I'm in. There are no updates, three in the morning? Is the organ here, where is it coming from? How often does a patient get sent home? Can I get something to calm me down? Yeah, I look calm but I'm freaking out on the inside... my heart is beat'n a mile a minute. Oh... words with friends... good idea... I'll focus on that for 15 seconds.. can you send that nurse back in that likes to talk about food? Where she from again? Cuba? No, Trinadad. Cool, I'll have some curried goat.

The anesesaogist arrives... eventually. This didn't happen the last two times, must be a good sign. Hi... Yes. I'm ready, I'll sign those and anything else... What? It's still not a go? No worries, I'll just lay here. Happily. Yes, for weeks. It's not a match, no worries, take the bad one out, give me the new one, I'll test drive it, we'll make it work! Many more binders arrive with requested signitures... Does this mean I'm going in? Is it going to work.... No Mr. Fathman, we've actually put people under and pulled them out after we realized it wasn't a match or a good organ. Oh....

So I lay there waiting patiently, trying to play words with friends, thinking about how great my future will be when all this is over and praying.

I encourged my mother to leave, she doesn't. It's cliche but the minutes seemed like hours and the hours seemed like days, but the days, well, they seemed like days. Okay, I'm getting dramatic. It felt like a long fucking time. Around 9 am they said we're going to give this one a shot, I was dumbfounded, emotionless. it was happeneing. I suppose I was to tired to really sort of cared. It all seemed automatic at this point. Relief. Finally an ending of one sort or another in sight, at least so I thought.

Passed futuresque looking machinery, tanks of gas keeping people alive, carts backed with medical devices, medicines and shlelves of sterile looking hospital linens. My grandmother's rosary in hand I was wheeled through a maze of hallways. It felt like I was below ground, but I could of been anywhere, the windowless rooms gave no clue as to where or when I was.

Wheeled into a small O.R. prep room the medical staff went over me again, tried to explain the process to me, again. My mother sat on a chair, in the corner, smiling reassuringly. Again, I asked, are we going to do this? And again, I was told, We're going to try.

"Mom. Go home." I said.

"When your brother gets here I'll think about."

Well then. Take a picture for posterity's sake." I said smiling.




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