Amazing Life Experience. Once Is Enough

As one who has climbed a few mountains, navigated some pretty nasty rapids, and swum with the sharks, I was very glad to pitch an idea or two or three. Actually, I responded with 25. I’ve appended a few below.

 

Some reflected my spirit as I dealt with an autoimmune liver disease (which was diagnosed in early 2010) and knew that, ultimately, a transplant would be my only good option.

 

Some reflected my pre-transplant time at VCU Health in the fall of 2012, especially my days in the surgical and trauma intensive care unit (STICU) as the clock ticked very rapidly.

 

 

(On one hand, that’s a random t-shirt slogan. On another, it’s a real-life choice we make.)

 

(That line is attributed to Robert Frost. He didn’t say it exactly that way, but the message was clear enough for me.)

I will dance at Grace’s wedding.

 

(That became my mantra. When I received my diagnosis, I promised our four adult children that I would take care of myself, follow my doctors’ orders to the letter, survive the challenges before me, and one day dance at our granddaughter Grace’s wedding. Grace was five years old at the time. Now, she’s an almost 14-year-old eight grader who has made very clear that she holds me to that promise.)

 

(That’s Albert Einstein, of all people.)

 

 

(It’s well known that a couple of days after I entered the STICU, my surgeon told me in no uncertain terms that without a transplant, I’d survive no longer than a week.)

 

 

(Yep, that’s right. Day Six of what I thought was seven. What I learned later was that my doctor really meant to say, “…by the end of the week.” And he told me on a Thursday. Think about that. I certainly have.

 

(Back to the call. They actually didn’t need to call me because they knew exactly where I was: in Room 150 on the 9^th floor of the Critical Care Hospital. In my world, though, calls are a very big deal. Mine came at 2 a.m.)

 

(Those were the words I heard at the other end of the line. They were spoken by Teresa Crenshaw, my transplant coordinator then and now and one of my guardian angels. She was telling me that Dr. Robert A. Fisher had decided to transplant an 84-year-old liver into a 64-year-old patient. It was a huge risk, but he knew that if he could get me through that day, I’d do everything within my power to prove his decision right. It was game-on. There was no turning back. There were no regrets. That day would be the most incredible passage of my life.)

(When I emerged from my medically-induced slumber four days later, that was one of my initial thoughts. I believe it to this day. I always will.)

 

 

(No liver that old had ever been transplanted into a patient with numbers as high as mine, anywhere in the world, ever. Quite a testament to the courage, commitment, and the willingness to take a risk of the good folks at VCU Health.)

 

 

(My donor, still anonymous to me, left a pristine liver at 84. What an amazing life she must have led! My family and I are forever grateful. I knew even before I left the STICU that her gift and my experience would give me a voice to help others. My term is patient advocate. It’s become a joyous and fulfilling calling.)

 

Which brings us to today: November 14, 2018.

 

 

‘Nuf said.

 -- Weldon Bradshaw