The Harvest- Part III

Okay, now that I am feeling almost 100% I will finish this part of my story. It has been a really long bumpy ride, but I am glad I made the choice to donate. It's funny, I bought a new book this weekend, 2001 Things to do Before You Die. On page 1, #8- "Donate some body parts." Check.

The recovery was worse than expected. I was in a lot more pain than I had anticipated. I am by no means a wimp and have had major surgery in the past, surgery that required an overnight stay in the hospital, and upon coming home I insisted on vacuuming. Not so with this surgery. Partly because I was unable to move around freely, and partly because Aaron wouldn't let me do anything.

In "The Harvest Part II", I left off at waking up from the surgery. I will begin there.

I woke up about 3.5 hours after they put me under. I remember, vaguely, being wheeled into the recovery room. I remember Aaron and my father standing over my bed, but I was so out of it that I really didn't want to see anyone, or have to talk. 12:30PM is when I begin to have specific memories of being in the hospital. I was unable to speak at first because I had been intubated. I don't know if everyone knows this, or has experienced it, but it's pretty unforgiving- it leaves you feeling as though you have a porcupine lodged in your throat.

My doctor came in and told me that I did really well during surgery and that they had taken more marrow than they had anticipated because it was "the healthiest marrow they had seen" and knew I would be able to regenerate it quickly. He also told me I had "really strong hips." I guess from a doctor those are nice compliments to receive. It makes me smile, imagine writing a personal ad. SWF seeking SM. Likes animals, kayaking, hiking, 5'2"- petite, dark hair, brown eyes, strong hips, healthy marrow, non-smoker.

My dad and Aaron kept coming by frequently to check on me, but were able to occupy themselves elsewhere so I didn't feel the need to stay awake or worry about them. I was due to go home shortly after I had awoken, but unfortunately I had to be catheterized during the surgery, so I was unable to pee for hours following the surgery, so until I could pee, they were keeping custody of me. I wanted to go home... but I also really wanted to pee. Finally around 7:30 I peed and was released to my father and Aaron, who promptly drove me home.

In the days that followed I was in an enormous amount of pain. The best way I can describe the pain is "crushing." In all actuality, your bone marrow IS your immune system; and your hips are the central support for your body. So, picture a 2-liter bottle of soda, imagine half of that filled with bone marrow. That's what I gave up- via five holes in my hips. I was uncomfortable. Laying down hurt, sitting hurt, walking hurt, and stairs hurt-- so much.

I was out of work and home for a few days. Because it was really hard for me to do anything, I had to rely on Aaron to help me do most things, including going to the bathroom. I couldn't get up from the sitting position easily nor could I sit down slowly enough. My movements were very stiff and very laborious. I returned to work (against the judgement of pretty much everyone) 4 days after my surgery, I was there for 4 hours, then drove myself home- in tears.

Eventually moving around grew easier, but I had a fatigue that would not leave me. I was so exhausted from the surgery and because they took my immune system, everything took so much energy. I would have to take breaks in between activities. For example, I would have to rest in between putting on my make-up and blow-drying my hair. Simple activities exhausted me. I also had some residual effects from the anesthesia (just feeling overall yucky, nauseous and all my limbs were restless.)

In terms of scarring, my body was pretty tattered. I was quite bruised from all the needles and I.V's, and my back was pretty bruised with some scabbing.

I won't lie, the recovery was hard. But I received cards, e-mails, phone calls, people stopped by with gifts, flowers, food, well wishes and admiration. The out pour of thoughtfulness from my friends and family was amazing. Thank you all.

Today, I feel great. I am proud of what I did. I can't wait to write The Harvest- Part IV. The Harvest Part IV will be written when I am updated on the status of my recipient, an update I hope you are all looking forward to.

Now, briefly, about my recipient. Oh, my recipient. I think of my recipient everyday. I think of her on beautiful days, I think of her when it snows, I think of her when I sit in front of my Christmas Tree, I think of her when I see the 5 scars on my back, and I think of her every time I take life for granted. My heart breaks to know how difficult this recovery must be for her. I hope she is alright. I hope my bone marrow is helping her make healthy new cells, and I take solace in the fact that I am one of the healthiest most stubborn people you probably know, so maybe my marrow won't fail her.

I will post when I hear how she is doing. I can't wait. Please, think of her fondly.

When they first let Aaron into the recovery room. Aren't I happy?

A couple hours after I woke. What a trooper! When I see these pictures, I sometimes wonder how I found the courage to do such a thing.

On the way home.

Aaron was a bit too jubilant for my taste that night, but I think he was utterly relieved that I was okay- plus he was up all night worrying, so he may have been under the influence of large amounts of caffeine at this point- not really sure.

The next morning.

That's it.

Just a bandage.

Doesn't it just make you want to put yourself on the list to save a life? Hmmmm?

5 small holes.

Badges of honor.

Bruising from the I.V.

If you have any specific questions about my recovery, or how you too can become a bone marrow/organ donor, contact me.

December 1

I wanted to make a separate post for this because it's so important. Please-- educate yourself and advocate for others. This is a GLOBAL problem.

It- does- not- discriminate.

In 2007, the estimated number of persons living with HIV worldwide was 33.2 million and there were 2.1 million AIDS deaths.

(retrieved 12/1/07 from the Dept of Health & Human Services website http://www.hhs.gov/aidsawarenessdays/days/world/index.html)

Check out:

http://www.worldaidsday.org/

Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit!

When I was a freshman in High school I had an amazing teacher, Mrs. Carolyn McCabe. She was exactly what I needed her to be at that time in my life, as things were not optimal at home.

I took Honors English all 4 years of school. It was a no-brainer for me. I'm an avid reader with a very strong vocabulary. Mrs. McCabe taught this class and she and I had an immediate bond. She is a very whimsical woman, with a taste for advocacy, human rights, and had a comprehensive list of books that were right up my alley. In her class she introduced books such as Wuthering Heights, The Great Gatsby, and my favorite book of all times, Mrs. Mike.

I also took a Women's Studies class with her in my junior year. In this class I was introduced to Maya Angelou (I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings), Toni Morrison (The Bluest Eye), Rachael Carson (The Silent Spring), and Melba Patillo-Beals (Warriors Don't Cry) all cutting edge woman in this century. Honestly I think Mrs. McCabe could have taught wood shop and I would have found it fascinating.

During my freshman year, however, she told me about this little superstitious ritual that she took part in every month. Apparently if a person says "Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit" before they say anything else at 12:00 midnight, or immediately when they wake up on the 1st of the month, they will have good luck all month long.

Now, I'm a realist, I like research; I like provable, measurable facts. I don't freak out about Friday the 13th, black cats, broken mirrors, ladders or spilled salt, and I don't have a "lucky" anything. Except this. I have said "rabbit, rabbit, rabbit" every month since Mrs. McCabe told me about it. I don't know why, and I never questioned it. I did research it once, and there are variations of this superstition, but it dates back centuries...

Mrs. McCabe and I still keep in touch via snail mail. She no longer teaches, which is great for her because she is finally able to use all of her other skills, painting, writing, and scrappin' & stampin,' but my heart breaks for those who never experienced her passion as an educator. She left an impression on me.

Recently, I told her "I still say 'Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit.'"
She was pleased.

Dear Bing,

I want to let you know, although sometimes you make me very angry, that I love you so much. When I come home, the excitement you show me surpasses any form of validation I get- anywhere. I love that you wag not just your tail-- but your entire butt. You are such a stealth stud, and as my first born son, you taught me how to be a good dog-mama.

I know sometimes you pretend to hate your brother, but I also know you are very sweet to him when no one is looking. I have to confess, I spied on you while you licked his ears and eyes for hours on end stopping only long enough for him to bite you and demand more. I watched proudly as you obliged his requests. You're a terrific big brother and role model.

I don't know why you insist on trying to walk out into traffic. This concerns me. Be certain, I will never let go of your leash, nor will I allow you to continue to eat grass, trash, and other miscellaneous tid-bits. I spend a lot of money on organic, top of the line food-- that shall be your sustenance. You will not supplement your diet with grass, rag-weed or the trash I repeatedly dig from the clutches of your jaw.

Your incessant barking is music to my ears, and although you suspect it annoys me, trust- it affirms to me that you are healthy and curious. Further, I find it beyond adorable when you growl ever so quietly just to confuse Manny, so he barks loudly while you sit back as he gets yelled at for barking at "absofreakinglutely nothing."

I love that you love people of all ages and dogs of all breeds. I am, however, concerned about your hatred toward our cats and the vacuum. I assure you, your safety and happiness are of the utmost importance to me. I make it my priority to afford you stability and comfort. Nothing will hurt you.

I miss you during the day while I'm at work. I miss your kisses, the way your ears smell, and how soft your hair is. You have made me into a person who is certifiably crazy about her dogs and pathologically worries about their safety. I am so lucky to have you as my "super-canine." I love you more than words can express. Please, don't ever stop loving me the way you do because it makes me feel so humble to know you are unconditionally mine. Thank you for curling up next to me and always kissing me goodnight. Bing, you're the best.

Happy 3rd Birthday to the one of the best Chihuahuas in the universe. I love you more than I could ever have imagined.

XOXO,

Mama

P.S. I found the spot under my sewing table in the den where you like to hide poop. I forgive you.

Wednesday, Oui

I woke up this morning not really feeling the "Wednesday, Oui?- 'Mojo'" for a lot of reasons. Then I checked my email and from one of my oldest, dearest friends, I got an email that said, "Happy Wednesday Jessi."

Thank you Quinn.

Friendship, timing, thoughtfulness. It is after all, Wednesday, Oui?