Six Months Later ...

Nov. 10, 2011

I spent most of my recovery time in Bremerton with the help of my parents and friends. I was given a three month period in which I had to be exceedingly careful. I was informed that I should stay away from crowds to prevent sickness. I wasn’t supposed to really lift anything for the first six or so weeks. I tried my best to follow all of the doctors' orders perfectly, the operative word being TRY. As time went on, my appointments at the UW became less and less. From two times per week, to one time a week, and so on. The first month was a little rough. I was going through an onslaught of emotions and feelings. At the forefront of it all was feelings of gratefulness and joy. Sometimes I felt guilty to have put Kara and her family through all of this. Knowing that Kara couldn’t lift her small children for sometime after surgery and all of the emotional toll that her and her family had to endure, was a definite struggle for me. Although no one by any means made me feel this way, I still had moments like these. 

The team alerted me to move around as much as possible during the recovery process. The more I moved, the faster I would feel better and more like myself again. I would say that after a month, I was feeling really well again. My energy level was back in full swing and I started to notice myself doing things that I couldn’t have done when I was sick. Now I was able to run errands, walk around without being tired and fill my days with more activities. I really missed the little things when I was in need of a kidney. I remember how tired and run down I felt. I could only choose and do one activity for the day before I was exhausted. I’m so thankful to feel normal again. It’s absolutely amazing; almost indescribable.

Kara and I were asked to participate in an interview about our story in August 2011, about two months after surgery. It was for the local access channel called BKAT. The show was called “Around Kitsap” and Kara knew the host, Char Burnett. I’m not going to lie and say I was initially thrilled about doing the interview. I’m by no means a public speaker. Now Kara on the other hand is the opposite; a complete natural when talking to large groups. I was terrified at the thought of doing this. I knew that it was the right thing to do though. I knew someone, somewhere would benefit from our story. So I set my fear aside and agreed to participate. Char sent us a few emails to tell us the general outline for the interview. She also explained that she would like it to be an easy, relaxed conversation in an informal setting, like maybe outside. This all sounded good to me. The day had finally arrived. Kara picked me up and we drove to the studio in our matching kidney tees. YES I SAID STUDIO. We walk in and there it all was. Cameramen with big, intimidating machines, and then I saw where we would sit. It was a professional setting with a desk positioned under a bright spot light with a large, sweeping, blue curtain to frame the set. This was anything but relaxed and informal. I could hardly breathe. There were three chairs and of course Char insisted I sit dead center. I tried to convince her that Kara should sit in the middle but she wasn’t biting at all. The tech guys put microphones on us and told us to count in a regular voice to perform a sound check. I might as well have been on mars at this point; I had absolutely no clue as to what was going on, and furthermore what I was going to say!! I have a good friend named Abby who reports for the Anchorage news and I tried to channel her in some way but fell short. I seriously don’t know how she does it. Anywho, back to the terror. So all of a sudden Char makes the executive decision to get started and what do you know?!  I start crying and I mean the ugly cry. Anyone who knows me probably has no problem envisioning this whole episode. At that point I really didn’t think I was going to be able to pull together and make this happen. I looked so silly. I took a few deep breaths, listened to Kara and Char’s encouraging words and prepared to try again. In no time at all, the camera guy was counting down to start the show. I was just myself and it went great!  I don’t think anyone watching would have known that I had just cried minutes prior. I was so happy I was able to do it but I was also happy it was over. 

I’m now almost six months out. Today is Nov. 10, 2011. Kara is well and I feel great. My health is doing very well and I really feel stronger than I did before all of this. It’s so amazingly wonderful to not have to worry or do dialysis anymore. I’m happy that the people I know don’t have to worry anymore either. It’s fantastic that Kara is feeling great too! There isn’t much to say when all is good. It's just been one excellent day after the next.

I’m now living back in Seattle and able to finish my education, which is such a blessing. Who knows where I would be without Kara’s beautiful gift of life and generosity. I'm really appreciative and grateful for it all. Another chance is so precious, so I try my best to capitalize on every moment and help whomever I can. Like Kara did, if I can pay it forward to someone else, I would feel complete. I owe Kara, all of my friends and family and above all, God. If we can all do something to help others, imagine what this world would look like. If we had nothing but “Karas” walking around, this place would be much brighter. She is a role model for everyone and I pray that the Lord blesses her and her family each and every day. Kara I love you and I hope this act of love will encourage others to do the same.

~Cherina

Hospital Stay

Note ... This post from Cherina should have been put up prior to her last post, as it covers the time between her first and last day in the hospital.

June 2-5, 2011 - Hospital Stay:

The first couple of days in the hospital weren’t so bad. I had a pain med pump that I could press every time I felt pain. I found out real quickly that it would time itself out every 6 minutes! I really don’t remember much on day two. Looking back, I was way more drugged up than I thought! The first two days, I felt like I was in a completely different room than I was for the remainder of the time. Found out I was in the same room the whole stay. I remember people laughing after I would say something. I didn’t find what I said funny, but apparently it was! I slept a lot, tried to eat the almost inedible hospital food and just sat around.

The next few days were harder than the first. I had a foley catheter, which proved to be no problem early on, but grew to be quite the issue for me. It was pretty uncomfortable yet it was nice to not have to get up to use the bathroom. Early on, the central line in my neck was hardly noticeable but that too came with its own set of problems. When I was able to shower, the dressing that covered the central line needed to be changed; seeing that I have super sensitive skin, the cleaning of the wound caused some great irritation. To sum it up, I looked like a burn victim. During recovery, they really stress the importance of walking around and moving about. It was explained that movement promotes muscle rebuilding and helps prevent clots. So let me paint you a picture for you. Here I am walking around so slow that I can barely take it, with a catheter hanging out of me and weird looking cords coming out of my neck all while pushing an IV pole-like stand! It was a funny scene I’m sure, but it’s all a much needed part of recovery.

 I was so overwhelmed by all of my visitors! I knew I was cared for but this was something else. Many of my close friends came bearing gifts, cards and smiles. It was so nice seeing them all. Some lived close and some did not. I felt bad for the visitors that happened to come when I was feeling low and for the ones that came and didn’t get to see me! My boyfriend Cody and my aunt Swedini were so helpful and put up with all of my demands and needs. Being that they were at the hospital with me for most of the day, they unfortunately ended riding my emotional roller coaster with me! The steroids made me extremely emotional and irritable; those feelings juxtaposed with pain and all of the hospital personnel coming in and out, made me a nervous-wreck!! I hated the way I was feeling and coming across. I was reassured it would get better and that I would learn how to control it all. In regards to all the “hospital personnel,” they were all nice and just trying to do their jobs. It was just one person coming in the room after another trying to teach me important information I needed about pills and post-surgical tips. I could hardly hold a conversation at times due to fatigue and/or pain, let alone absorb this crucial information they were presenting me with. I remember at one point my aunt could tell how perturbed I was and told everyone to leave and come back another time. Like I said, she’s a good advocate.

Outside of the wonderful gift of getting my life back, there were other good things about staying at the hospital. I was able to see my loving Cody more than I’ve seen him in a long time because I lived in Bremerton and he lived in Seattle. I was able to see my aunt that I don’t get to see very often who lives in Canada. It was also nice that I was able to see Kara as much as I did. She was always so happy with a smile on her face. It was inspiring. Here I was at times tormenting my aunt and Cody and then she’s in there smiling! Without even knowing it, she was helping me with my perspective, all along really. Maybe getting your vitals taken every two hours in the dead of night wasn’t so bad after all? :)

Everyday a group of doctors doing their rounds would come by room and see how I was coming along. Every time they saw my scar they complimented it and asked who my surgeon was. Apparently my perfectly straight scar is a good one! The doctors addressed my long list of questions and moved on. I looked forward to seeing them every morning. Overall, my care was good and I was glad to be at the UWMC.

One night Cody came and stayed with me, which was so comforting. He slept in a humble fold out next to my hospital bed. I gave him an eye mask to sleep because I knew the nurses and aids would be visiting my room every few hours to check my vitals. He was such a trooper. That night I was experiencing a considerable amount of pain due to my raw neck from the central line; I was probably making noises of all kinds. It was maybe just another night for him, for he’s been helping me through all of this from the beginning. I’m so blessed for him and all of the other wonderful people in my life.

Another highlight for me were my little visitors. Kara and Shane’s daughters came to see me! At first, judging by Ainslee’s face, she seemed a little confused. She then lit right up and said hello! Shane also shared a special Internet link with me. It was Kara on the radio talking about how she was going to give a kidney to a stranger and how excited she was! I had no clue she had done this. It was such an extraordinary surprise. Since then, I still listen to that link every once in a while and often share it with others.

I remember the doctors wanting me to leave the hospital a day earlier than I wanted. I also remember the doctors suggesting to Kara for her to also leave a day sooner. We both opted to stay the extra night for several reasons. My aunt even said at one point she wouldn’t take me home the day the doctors initially suggested. The physicians explain that one should leave the hospital as soon as they can because of the high risk of infection in hospitals. I had heard this before but I still find it ironic that a place one must heal in isn’t necessarily a safe one. The cleaning staff did a good job of cleaning the room everyday from what I remember, which made it easier to make the decision to stay another night.

Those 5 days in the hospital went fast at times and slow at other times. I’m so happy I only had to stay for less than a week. Kidney transplants have sure come a long way since my mom’s day. She was in the hospital for a whole month! I definitely count my blessings when I hear that. She also was in quarantine, unlike me. I’m so happy everything went well and that we both were able to leave the hospital in good condition.

~Cherina

Post-Transplant Recovery

Day 2, 3 and 4 (Release Day)

The second day went by with as much ease as the first. In anticipation of my daughters visiting, I kept up with my pain pump and oral meds and even tried to eat a yogurt parfait for breakfast. I was even allowed to have a lovely sponge bath- where I was standing at the edge of the bed for a good five minutes. Sounds kind of terrible, but they warm up these wonderfully clean smelling wipes and allow you to wash as much as you want. I had yellow iodine all over my stomach, which was good to get off, and it was the first time I was able to get a good look at my incisions. Two on the left side of my bellybutton, about four inches apart. The top one looked to be a little smaller than the bottom, but it was hard to tell because they were covered in surgical glue. Those incisions were from the scope and laparoscopy instruments. Centered about four inches below my bellybutton was the large incision where the kidney was removed, and Dr. Bakhta’s hand was inserted for hours. It is about five inches or so long.

While standing naked in my room getting my bath, Bakhta walked in and asked how I was doing. After having two kids, donating a kidney and being on a pain pump, all modesty flies out the window. Kind of weird, but to be honest, they guy had his hand in my stomach, so he might as well see me in all God’s glory! Again, he said that my kidney was perfect and that we were both doing very well.

All day long there were people in and out of my room. Family and friends came to visit, and even a few of my new hospital friends stopped by to make sure I was doing well. Everyone was so positive, and told me I was looking great – like those moments after you have a baby and are wiped out, tired beyond belief and people keep commenting on how good you look all the while knowing you haven’t showered in days and your hair is a mess on top of your head and you KNOW they cant be telling the truth. Yes, it was much like that.

I was SO happy to see my kids that first day, and they gave me a renewed sense of energy and desire to get well quickly. They were climbing all over me and the bed and all the chairs in the room, but were amazingly loving and sweet and concerned about their momma. I have said all along, I am excited for my children to grow up knowing that I gave Cherina my kidney, thinking that everyone’s mom does it at some point. I am walking the walk right now and am so proud of the lesson I am teaching them about humanity. One of the many perks.

I was able to make my first outing as my kids were leaving. We walked two very slow, very deliberate laps around the floor. Turns out that 4SE was the floor where all kidney, liver and pancreas transplant patients reside. It was kind of bittersweet to see all of these people in their rooms recovering from their surgeries, or readmitted due to rejections or other issues. Some were getting their miracles, some were waiting and one guy was casually talking about his multiple kidneys he had received over the years, and how he currently had four.
As Thursday night was winding down Shane took me for one last stroll around the hall and it was then, at 9pm, that I was able to see Cherina for the first time. It was emotional for the both of us, as we were tired, drugged up and certainly sore. I was able to lean over and touch my forehead to hers. It was a pathetic attempt at a hug, but the best we could do. Shane and Cody made us do it again so they could take a picture. We are bonded for life. We will remain a part of this sisterhood that few will ever understand.
Day three was much the same as day two, only I felt a little better, ate a little more and was able to walk a few more laps. The catheter was removed, and, to be honest, I was a little sad about losing it. It was so nice to not have to worry about getting out of bed to go to the bathroom, or waiting for a nurse to come and help me if I was alone. By late that evening and Saturday morning I was getting out of bed myself and going on my own, which was quite a feat let me tell you!

I was taking laxatives, stool softeners and urged to drink, eat and walk as much as possible to get my body back on schedule – you know, the poop one. Since they have to move everything around so much your bowel can get a little sluggish and then the painkillers back you up too, so nurses and doctors alike are very interested to hear when you have your first BM. Mine came on Friday. I was nervous to have to put any effort in, thinking that it might be painful, rivaling my sneeze that took place earlier in the day. Luckily it went well.

I had so many lovely visitors, I wish I could name them all, but I can’t. My room was filled with flowers, cards and best of all the warm smiles and huge hearts of people who love Cherina and I and had been praying for us like crazy. We are so blessed.

By day four, Saturday, I had made friends with the surgical interns and had one stopping me in the halls on my solo walks around the floor to show off the latest video of his daughter on his iPhone. I was able to shower on my own, get dressed in regular clothes and even walk myself to Cherina’s room where we could talk for longer than two minutes before we were breathless and looking for the pain pump we no longer had. I went home around noon-ish, maybe a little later and was feeling great. It was a beautiful summer day and when we got home I was able to sit in a lawn chair and watch my kids play in the yard. My parents and husband’s parents ended up joining us for some Indian delivery for dinner. I took my pain meds and slept the night in my new recliner in the living room. All-in-all it was great to be home.

They next day was a Sunday, and equally as nice. The kids played outside and I did a lot of sitting in the yard, as well. I walked between my house and my in laws multiple times and was able to get around and even help out some with the kids. The doctors caution you about stopping your pain meds and letting the pain get ahead of you so I had been pretty good about staying on a fairly regular schedule. Sunday morning I woke up and took one out of routine. That was the last daytime medication I took. I did take a few more during the week at night to help me sleep, as laying down was still not the most comfortable, but certainly after eight or so days I was on nothing stronger than an extra strength Tylenol. And that was only if something traumatic like sneezing or laughing occurred and I wasn’t prepared with a pillow to hold tightly to my stomach.

People have asked and were always surprised when I would tell them that, yes, I could tell that there was something missing inside. It lasted for a couple of weeks, probably as long as the swelling (and pregnant looking bloat) lasted. If I would lay on my back and then roll to a side or roll from side to side I could feel “settling” of my organs, at least that’s what the doctors said it was. To me it was like I was a human level, and the air bubble would just float to the top. It was not painful, or even uncomfortable but certainly weird. It was kind of like being seven or so months pregnant and the baby had lots of room to move and would suddenly make a big position change, but much more than that. I swear that if the room was quiet you’d be able to hear it. That was certainly the most bazaar part of this whole experience, and something I am glad to see gone!

The week following surgery we kept the girls on their normal babysitting routine and I stayed home by myself during the day. We tried to make things as normal as possible for them, but of course it was hard. I was tired and doing little things would take a lot out of me. Not only was I recovering from a pretty invasive surgery, but my body was screaming at me for messing up the good thing we had going – which was two perfectly working kidneys. I had little energy, but knew that the best thing was exercise and sleep. So I took lots of naps and went for a lot of walks. My first solo walk was Tuesday after surgery – six days out. I texted Shane and told him to send the neighbors looking if he didn’t hear from me in 30 minutes. I ended up making a couple big loops around the neighborhood and I felt great. I still had quite a bit of bloating and pressure on my diaphragm which caused breathlessness quickly, but the athlete in me quickly got past it. The next day I walked even farther, and so on. By the end of the first week, I was walking more than a mile in that 30 minutes.

On day 10 I had a checkup back at the hospital. I had a blood draw first, and had a piddley tree vials of blood taken (maybe it was four, but markedly less than ever before) then a 30 or so minute wait to see the surgeon. We ran into Cherina in the 3rd floor kidney clinic and were able to see each other in regular cloths for the first time in a long time. We hugged, then she was called back almost immediately. It was a short visit, but certainly worth the hug. I was called back shortly after and Kami and Paige both stopped in to check on me. I was told that I wasn’t going to get to see Dr. Bakhta because he had gotten called in on a major surgery case. It is pretty awesome that my surgeon was the guy when “major” cases crop up during the day. Kami told me I was lucky, too, he is the best. I was a little let down, cause I had high hopes of giving him a hug. Nonetheless, someone else was able to come down and look at my incisions, ask a few questions, and sign my return to work form required by the district – oh yeah, and he also cleared me to drive!!!

I went back to work on June 15th for eight half days in the classroom. It was good to finally be getting out of the house regularly and to be doing something that felt a little more normal. Students were funny, and excited to seem me. Some knew that I was donating a kidney and others didn’t. But word quickly spread. Their first question was always about drinking and if I could or not. Leave it to teenagers! 

~Kara