It is almost noon, and I am just now sitting down for my morning coffee. Chewy and his sister are snuggled up on the desk in front of me. Potatoe and Trooper are snuggled up on the couch for an afternoon nap after a morning of play time with the kittens.
I need to be working. I planned to get an early start this morning. I did get up at 4 AM, and I did get a few things done, but then I went back to sleep until almost 10:00 AM. Little Chirp and I spent the past couple of hours getting chores done around the house. There is still plenty to do, but the most important items are checked off, largely due to Little Chirp’s participation.
As I relax for a moment, and I reflect on the week that today marks the end of, it all seems surreal. I sometimes have a difficult time waking up in the mornings. I find myself in a deep sleep dreaming, and part of me keeps telling the rest of me to stay asleep because it is such a good dream. When I do finally wake up, I realize that it is not a dream; it is my actual life. I love my life, and I sometimes find it unbelievable that my life is really mine.
This week took that feeling when I wake on those sleepy mornings to a whole new level. On Sunday morning, I had the dream, and I felt an incredible sense of gratefulness when I finally woke up, and I once again realized the dream was really my life. Then the week happened.
I remember laying in bed on Monday night thinking about how happy I am. I thought of my children, my fur kids, my sister and her family. I thought of my aunt and my cousins. I thought of my amazing friends. I thought of the company that I work for and the people that I work with. I felt an intense sense of gratitude, and I said a prayer of thanks. I thought of the many little details of life that make me extra happy, to name just a few – the Astros back in the World Series, the coffee flavor of the month at Black Walnut, The Dallas Cowboys on a winning streak, dinner at R&R Crafthouse with DogMom, the security guard in the Williams Tower telling us dad jokes.
It is the little things in life, but then some days it is the big things. As I drifted off to sleep on Monday night, I could not have imagined what Tuesday would bring. I went to bed so early on Monday, that when I woke up before three in the morning, I checked my phone. I found a text message from my sister that brought me from sleepy to wide awake, “Dean and Nancy are on the way to the transplant hospital in Houston!!!!”
It was exactly 2:48 AM when I read my sister’s text, which she sent at 2:39 AM. That means that just two hours and twelve minutes elapsed while we waited for Dean and Nancy to safely arrive at the hospital. That was a long two hours and twelve minutes. I fell back asleep to find out that they were at the hospital and Dean was undergoing the testing for the transplant. I got up, and I headed to the office, so that I would be close by if Nancy needed anything.
The work day crept by. It felt like it should be evening when I looked at my clock, and I realized that it was not even noon yet. I am not sure what the others expected, but I had this idea that Dean would arrive at the hospital and be immediately rushed into surgery. This is only how it works on TV. We would all spend the day in anxious anticipation. Would Dean be receiving the lungs and liver that he needs to live?
Early Tuesday evening, we celebrated and prayed when we learned that Dean was scheduled for surgery at 8 AM the next morning. I went with my friend Kat to watch the Astros game at my friend’s bar, but I was so distracted that I was not the best company. I did get to tell Kat’s boyfriend the story of how Kat and I met. I enjoy telling that story. Telling the story brought back to me how good of friend Kat has been, and how we instantly clicked. She is giving and kind, and always there for her children and her family. She was my rock on Tuesday.
Between the drinks that Kat bought me, and the assurance that Dean was scheduled for surgery at 8 AM the next morning, I slept like a rock. I worked from home on Wednesday. I anxiously awaited an update. A bit after 8 AM, I grew concerned that Dean had not been taken into surgery. I knew something had not gone as planned, but I could not think of what that would be. They ran every test imaginable the day before. All was clear. The last hurdle was the harvesting of the organs from the donor. The possibility that for some reason the organs were not viable for transplant was the last thing that could go wrong, or so I thought. The organ harvesting was scheduled for 6 AM, and it was now mid-morning. If for some reason the organs were not viable for transplant, we would have known by now.
The emotions that I felt on Wednesday morning flood back to me as I am typing. All day Tuesday, I prayed for the family of a thirty five year-old man that I do not know. The man who lost his life which made continuing Dean’s life possible. The man who was likely giving others a second chance at life. I had called a close friend on Tuesday, and we cried and prayed for this man. This man that we never met. This man that has died tragically, who chose to donate the gift of life to complete strangers.
The emotions of knowing that someone has passed away is what makes the donation possible is a great deal to comprehend and it is heartbreaking. That’s what made finding out why the surgery was delayed on Wednesday deeply saddening. The organs were being flown in outside of Houston, and a wicked storm in Houston was delaying the transport of the organs. My thoughts when I learned this, “This cannot be the way the story goes.” The past 30 hours have filled us all with hope. If the organs cannot be transported this means that the precious organs, the chance at life is lost. Now, the emotions of knowing that someone has passed away, and the donation is not possible is devastating.
I sat on a video conference when I received the news via text message, and I could feel tears streaming down my face. I wondered if the participants on the conference noticed. As soon as the call ended, one of my coworkers that I am close to messaged me and asked if I was okay. I explained the situation. Even being on messenger, I knew he found the situation to be overwhelmingly sad.
About an hour passed, and I headed to my doctor’s appointment. I never touch my phone when I am with someone else, especially not my doctor. I saw a text from Nancy, and I knew it was an important update. I had to look. Dean had gone into surgery! They had removed his old lungs, and the new lungs, which finally arrived after the weather cleared off, were being put into him at that very moment. My doctor and I cheered, hugged, and cried together. I called my sister as soon as I left the doctor’s office. We shared a hopefulness that we had lost in the storm that morning.
I got back to my desk at home to find the last major work task on my plate that day to be a nice distraction while we waited more news on the progress of Dean’s surgery. I was almost done with work, when my sister called, I immediately asked if everything was okay. She said, “Yes, I just needed to have the conversation one more time, Dean is getting new lungs!”
The lung surgery went as planned. The surgeon said it was one of the best transplants that he had ever done. The liver surgery ran ahead of schedule and the liver was found to be in great condition. They were not able to close up the liver after the transplant, and they needed for the swelling to go down.
Thursday, work was stressful, and the work day was long. I could not wait to get done with work, so that I could catch up with my best friend, Yvonne (aka DogMom). We had so much to talk about. Sitting there with her, I thought to myself, “God has blessed me with the best friend imaginable.”
On Friday, the swelling had gone down, and they were able to complete the surgery, closing Dean up. The road to healing after a transplant is long, but Dean’s will to live is beyond strong, and he has a fighting chance.
As the week comes to an end, the sun is shining out my window. The day is beautiful, promising, and full of hope.
