Turk's First Post

We’ve heard from many of you that you’ve been anticipating an update to the blog. We apologize that we have been “slacking” in this regard over the past few days, which have been quite eventful, so without further adieu, here it is…..

I’ve really been looking forward to posting my first blog entry since last week before Dad and I went in for the transplant. I would have done it sooner, but being a bit superstitious I wanted to wait until I thought we were “in the clear” and that my entry wouldn’t build up any relief prematurely, having only to come back to notify of some unforeseen complication or discouraging news later. With tightly crossed fingers, and knocking on my wooden head…I think we’re now at that point.

First, I’d like to offer my sincere thanks to all of you who have been extremely supportive and loving during this time. Some of you sentiments regarding my willingness to donate a kidney to Dad have been nothing short of humbling. I appreciate these thoughts and will truly remember this time for the rest of my life.

Before I go into what the last few days have been like for me, and some of what we’ve been going though since Friday, I’d also like to say a couple of words about the two pretty amazing women that accompanied us here to Atlanta….Foxy and Roxy.

OK, Just kidding, my wife Joanna and my mom, Susan.

Looking over the last 5 days I really think the donation process has been most trying for Joanna and my Mom. Not only did they get to pace the halls while we were sound asleep during surgery, but they now get to wince with any pain we may have and worry over any issues we may be facing. This doesn’t mention the tremendous support they have offered and the occasional bit of tough love employed to make us listen to our doctors when we stray from what we should be doing. I seem to be getting a lot of credit for what I’ve done but I think both my Dad and I can learn a lot from their bravery during this time….which seems to be boundless and which is easily overlooked.

And as for Joanna specifically, if you go back a few days in this blog you’ll see an amazing and beautiful note that she wrote to me. I’ve been thinking about that a lot since I read it. It’s very difficult to respond in a way that will let you know that my feelings are the same, and in a manner which could accurately convey the love I have for you. I’m resolved to just say that it’s one of those things I haven’t quite figured out how to describe, but that I love you with everything that I am. You have been so supportive and strong over the past few days, it just confirms and reminds me how special you are and how truly lucky I am to have found you. You promised me a kidney if I ever needed one and, though they would never allow it, I would promise you the same because you are my life and represent all my hopes and aspirations.

Having said all of this, we started the whole process on Thursday night, when we arrived in Atlanta. Having been told that I couldn’t eat after noon on Thursday (which I did, for the most part..lol) we all went out for a last meal together. We went to Longhorn where I got to drool over everyone else’s meals but I got through it. Ironically, we found out later, I could have eaten and that the anaesthesia tech got his information screwed up….oh well.

So we went back to the Mason House which is basically a very large private home owned by Emory and endowed for the use of transplant patients and their families to get some rest before our 6:00 AM appointment the next morning. Joanna and I didn’t really get more than a couple hours of sleep and were up at around 4:30 to get ready to go, which included a shower with a special disinfecting soap, used before surgery.

Then it was off to Emory hospital where Joanna, Mom and I, much to Dad’s dismay, had a contest to see who could smoke the most cigarettes before going into the hospital. After that we went up to check in. They gave Joanna and Mom pagers that would buzz throughout the hospital in the event there was any news during the surgery and the ladies quickly discovered a bank of monitors that work similarly to airport arrival and departure screens, which would tell them where we were, and our stages of the operation.

After only about 5 minutes my name was called. I could really tell Joanna and Mom were nervous and they were a bit teary but I tired to let them know it would all be fine, gave them big hugs and went with the nurse back into the pre-op area. Back there they had me put all my clothes in a bag, put on one of those extremely flattering dresses and funny little hat and just hung out on the bed checking out all of the activity going on. It was pretty amazing to me how active the prop area was…. even at 6:30 in the AM.

After a short time I was visited by the anaesthesiologist, a surgical fellow…who drew all over my stomach and sides where the icisons were going to be, and eventually my surgeon, Nicole Turgeon, who put her initials on my left side to verify that that would be the side the kidney was coming from. We all joked later, after I was showing Joanna and my Mom the scars, that the initials were tattooed and that it meant I was her property..lol.

Anyway…after that they rolled me around into the OR, where I scooted over onto a somewhat hard surgical table. Just about the time I was marvelling over all the fancy gizmos and lights that they had in there they pulled a fast one on me and knocked me out. No count down from 10 or anything just all of a sudden…zonk. Probably better that way otherwise I would have started to think about the catheter, which to me was much scarier than any scalpel they could dig up.

So then, what seemed like about 5 seconds later I woke up all groggy in post up where I hung out for a bit, got to eat some delicious ice chips and was giving some pretty cool anti pain meds before going on a little moving bed ride up to my new room on the 9th floor.

Over the next 2 days it was all about learning how to move around, keep from tripping on my IV device, getting lots of Percocet, and progressing from liquid food to solid food. A note on this aspect…after not eating anything solid for a couple days the blandest looking turkey sandwich, with like 2 slices of processed junk meat was the most delicious gourmet meal I may have ever had. I know totally understand why they eat rats and stuff on Survivor.

On Staurday at some point I was getting around pretty good so Joanna and I snuck down to the ICU to see Dad, who looked pretty miserable at the time. We stayed a short time, let him rest and then progressed to wander to all sorts of places we shouldn’t have been, had a couple smokes, and got back up to my room. Surprisingly, they didn’t seem to mind so we kept taking liberty with my 9th floor quarantine, making it down to the cafeteria, patio, and ICU a few more times where Dad seemed to be getting better with each visit.

On Sunday I was visited again by all my doctors who told me I was progressing very well and told me I could go home. I must confess that there was a relatively short interlude of intestinal disfortitude related to the anaesthesia and gasses that they used to expand the body cavity during surgery. After the services of a very special nurse, administering a very special medicine, I must say I was “right as rain” and ready to go.

About that time we learned that Dad was doing better and would be moved up to my floor, which was especially good news as the day after the surgery there was some talk of my kidney being slow to wake up and do its job. It really bummed me out at the time but seemed to have reversed itself well, as he was dong much better, looked much better, and was very eager to get out of the ICU. At the time of this writing, after a nice visit with Dad today, and after being told by several people that the kidney I gave him was a pretty one (which I also think might indicate a lack of a social life for the person making the comment), we learned that his creatinine levels were down to 1.4 which is extremely good. We really are so excited and thankful for this.

So I basically got out on Sunday and have been hanging out here at the Mason house, going over to visit Dad and getting my appetite back. We hit the bookstore, got some cool Emory duds and have been relaxing and taking lots of naps for the most part since discharge. I’m a little sore but the medication they gave me helps a lot and I’ve learned what sort of movements and positions to avoid. Looks like Dad’s only hurdle now is that he’s retaining a lot of water because his bladder hasn’t woken up and gotten with the program but I guess that’s understandable as it didn’t have to do much for the 2 years he was on dialysis. As of tonight it looks like that has started to get better too…as a lot of the “intake” is now becoming “output” and volume seems to be increasing.

We think he’ll be out tomorrow, or possibly the day after if they want to hold him a bit longer but he’s stronger, more mobile, and as my colleagues at Winn Dixie would say “Getting Better All the Time”.