We are through to the other side of transplant and Garry is healing. The hard and busy battle and being away from home has kept me from writing this story, but it is maybe better to tell the rest of the story from this side of things. There is hope and joy after the stormy parts....
We were not home from RIH for long, only five days, before we knew we needed to go back to the hospital. Garry was so weak and feeling lethargic. He started talking practically about last wishes and I was worried the same way.
When we got there to emergency he was hardly able to stand and was readmitted. He had developed Hepatorenal syndrome. Essentially his kidneys couldn't bear the weight of keeping up with his failing liver, and they began to fail too.
Garry ended up back on a general ward, and thankfully to a more quiet room. At this point he could barely stomach eating anything and was wasting away more, with only enough willpower to walk a few steps to the bathroom. A feeding tube was the plan. This was one of the hardest things to bear. He pushed through for a few days and then wanted to take out that feeding tube and go home, anything for relief, but knowing that this was to sustain him. The doctor's were trying to keep him on that transplant list and stable, and also giving him daily blood transfusions. I asked him if he could just hold on for two more days. Surviving through so many medical interventions without an end date is very hard.
I went home that night and had a serious talk with our kids. We had talked with them at every progression, as it was important to us to be forthright with them. I told them that Daddy could not live much longer without a new liver. They already knew but saying it out loud brought a ton of tears and we had a prayer time together asking God for two more days, to which my son said, "no, one."
A pastor friend of ours had gone to the hospital that night and prayed with Garry too. Garry's mom was on night watch duty (as we had been rotating staying with him on a constant again).
The next morning just after my alarm went off, Garry's mom called and said to come right away, that the call had come and there was a viable liver. I had slept in clothes to go knowing it might come and yelled out the news to wake everyone as I ran out the door. After I got to RIH it was only about half an hour and Garry was loaded on a stretcher and driven by ambulance to the airport, so we could take an air ambulance flight to Vancouver.
When we arrived at Vancouver General Hospital, we met Garry's family at the door and they joined us up at pre-op on the transplant floor. The liver specialist came in and told us that Garry was the backup and that they might be sending him back home later if he did not receive the liver. This was devastating and we pleaded our case that Garry needed to stay even so. And stay he did, after they saw how sick he was.
Garry was admitted to the transplant floor and we hoped hard. We waited that day and evening and it was a dry run, where he did not receive the liver, but someone else did. Being on the transplant floor and being in Vancouver felt like such high standard of care and we were both still relieved to be there. Garry was even in good spirits and said he could do this for another week. He had some good laughs with his brother and sister the next day, and more blood transfusions to keep him going.
After that, it all went further downhill, and because of internal leaching of blood the doctor sent Garry to the HAU (or step down unit in ICU). He was put back on oxygen too.
In the HAU we literally begged the transplant team if they could open up a call across Canada for a liver. It was November and our two sons were celebrating birthdays this month and Garry could not die.
By the end of the day the transplant surgeon came back, telling us there was a possible liver. The surgeons would let us know if it was viable by the next afternoon, and if it was, the surgery would take place that next evening/night.
After this potentially good news, the night was horrible. Garry was so sick, shaking with nerves and couldn't calm or take anything for it, and I slept on two hard chairs pushed together, praying he would make it through.
That next day, November 13th, we waited for word again. Less willing to shout the news out just yet. Not trusting that this was it. Garry's mom arrived that afternoon and we all waited together, knowing the team of surgeons were explanting the donor liver sometime that afternoon. By that evening Garry's kidneys were crashing and he was potentially going to be moved to the ICU and put on dialysis. At seven o'clock we were told that we would know within the hour if the liver was viable, but before that even was resolved the doctor decided Garry needed to be moved to the ICU. Regardless, he would be prepped if it was a go, and if not, put on dialysis. We were told to say our goodbyes because he would not be awake when we saw him on the other side and would be on a ventilator. I realized later on that he was literally being put on life support, but my mind was still holding for that transplant and did not even think about it in that moment. They took him away and knowing we were still waiting on a verdict, I was heading straight to the ICU to find the family waiting room and wait on the call. Before we even found the family room, I got a call on my cell to come, that the liver was viable and they had tried to stop the nurse before she left, but she was already in the hall. From death would come a life....
No comments:
Post a Comment