Part 3: Getting the New Liver

A few days ago, I sent out the 2nd of a series of posts updating everybody about what’s been happening since the liver transplant. This 3rd post below is this is the second installment of the highlights to bring everyone up to speed on the events as they occurred.

Let’s finish the Timeline – Highlights starting in 2019

As we outlined before, my condition was getting very serious and by late spring and early summer. We seemed to be approaching the make-or-break point. Then suddenly on July 13, I was awakened at 3:00 am, Saturday morning with a call from UPenn asking how fast I could get to Philadelphia. I was told there was a liver on its way to the hospital and it may be match. I needed to be prepped for possible surgery. Time was of the essence.

A 70-year old male had died of a heart attack, but the liver was said to be in good shape. I was being given a chance to live from a deceased donor. It was hurry up and wait. And wait. And wait. The surgery was planned for 8:00 pm, then 9:00, then 10:00. Then I was told it was moved to 5:00 am Sunday morning, July 14. Apparently, a lot was going on in the operating room that night.

Then an hour later I was told the anesthesiologist was on his way up to my room. Change of plans! And unexpected liver was being sent over from another hospital. This deceased donor was in his early 30’s, matched my blood type, and was the right size. I signed the papers and the next thing I knew I was being transported to the O.R. It was midnight and all I remember was talking with about 7 or 8 people explaining how the anesthesia was going to be administered before I went to heavenly bliss.

They were busy that night working in shifts with multiple transplants. I was told later told two surgeons had worked on me for over 6 hours. I must have been a tough case. Hours later I woke up in the ICU. I don’t remember a thing for two days. But I was told I was very talkative. I plead guilty to the charge. What can I say? The surgeons later joked with me that at I came in expecting to get an old jalopy, but I left with a Ferrari.

From ICU I was moved to the liver recovery floor. I did not come to UPenn in good shape. I was skin and bones. I was very weak. At the 7-day mark while I was still in the first stage of recovery, and finally having my first real meal, I was told that I needed a second surgery to fix a bile leak in my tubing. That procedure finished me off. I could barely move.

I spent twice as long on the recovery floor than is normal. However, because of this extra stay, all the nurses and doctors and specialists became dear friends. We got to know each other very well. Since I was there for such a long time, I became very close to all the staff. I worked hard at knowing everybody’s name and thanking them for choosing their profession to serve and save people the likes of me. Often times I teared up when I tried to affirm them for responding to their call to heal to heal the sick and bind up the wounds of the suffering.

Then it was off to a new adventure in another part of town called “rehab.” I’ve received every kind of therapy that you can think of -- physical therapy, occupational therapy, cognitive therapy, and speech therapy. Eventually I was able to transition to an out-patient facility, called coincidentally, “The Gift of Life Family House”. Having watched my summer come and go, I finally was able to return home in Virginia on August 29 and enter my new reality / my new norm.

I had a lot of weight to gain back and a lot of rehab ahead of me. I also had a lot of time to kill, so I spent much of my free time sitting on the couch, watching a lot of TV, reading and eating. I also was able to watch all the wall-to-wall coverage of the House Impeachment Hearings and the Senate Trial of the President. What can I say? I found it riveting. That’s what I get for being a history buff. Did I say that I say that a lot of my recovery required a lot of eating? Oh yeah, I already said that.