Getting The Call

This is the first part of the retelling of my transplant journey.

Let me set the stage...

My husband and I had just returned home from a stay in Edmonton on Saturday afternoon (July 24th). My husband mowed the grass which was out of control and then made dinner. I was exhausted, and despite the piles of laundry and things to unpack, I went to bed early. That's something I rarely do, but I thought, if anything happens, all I need is a little sleep. My husband stayed up to watch TV. At 2:50am the phone rang. I didn't get to it in time, but I saw the Edmonton area code and caught the tail end of the message that was being left by the transplant coordinator. Instantly my cell began ringing and my husband answered and then passed it to me. It was The Call. They had lungs for me.

I sat at the top of the staircase and was shaking during the phone call. We discussed all of the details and then the flight team phoned right afterwards. My husband was like a whirlwind running past me from floor to floor, pulling together our transplant must-haves. My bag has been packed for six months, but I had a list of last-minute things to grab like the camera, iTouch and pills. For himself, my husband just rezipped his bag of dirty clothes that just made it back from Edmonton. Once that was organized, my husband started making phone calls to our family.

We were expecting the paramedics in about half an hour, but they arrived in about 15 minutes. It felt like the roar of the diesel engine could be heard for miles as they approached! They were super friendly, and my husband had actually worked with one of them in the past. One took my vitals while the other helped my husband take our bags to the truck. They patiently waited while I updated my facebook status through tears. I could hardly remember what words I had strung together, but I did alright. My status read:

JUST GOT THE CALL! The ambulance is here and I am off to Edmonton to start my next amazing adventure!!! Lung transplant, here I come!
July 25 at 3:31am

One more hug for the dog, and we were off! I had an IV started before the ambulance started moving, first try. We got instructions to go hot, so it was lights and sirens to the airport! The flight team was ready and waiting outside a small hangar. It was a small plane, and my husband could have reached across to touch both sides at the same time. Again, the flight crew of four were super friendly and professional. I was allowed one picture before take-off.

It was a really fast trip! It was an amazing view- out of the window to my right was a gorgeous full moon. On my left, there was a lightning storm in some far off clouds that lit up the night. We had a super smooth flight and a perfect landing.

The Edmonton EMS crew was waiting for me on the tarmac. They were also super nice. I sat on the stretcher and was loaded into a brand new ambulance. We checked into the hospital and went straight to the transplant floor for a work up and to wait.

It was procedure to be put into full isolation until we ruled out the usual superbugs, so everyone coming into my room had to mask, gown and glove.

We were soon joined by most of my family. My mom and her husband, my sister and brother in law, my sister and my dad. My husband's parents were already on the road and made the 5am ferry to mainland. They would arrive while I was in ICU.

The waiting part went better than I thought. We had lots of time for talk, for tears, for laughter, and for getting ready. As the surgery time grew closer, the more excited and the more nervous I felt. My husband did a great job to comfort and hold me. We met the surgeon and one of my transplant doctors came for a chat. The nurses were so caring and competent. I had a couple of IV bags started. I had bloodwork and tests and my last shower with that special soap. The funniest thing was trying to get out my earring. It's one of those hoops that you need pliers to open, but the best tool we had were kelly clamps. Let me tell you, it was the surgery before the surgery! My mom tried her best to pry it open, but it wouldn't cooperate. We taped it up instead.

I was given my first dose of immuno-suppressants. I begged to drink the whole cup of water. It had been about 20 hours since I had last had anything to eat or drink, so I was thirsty!

Then the moment came. At 4pm, I was ready to be taken to surgery. I hugged everyone and then my husband escorted me to the doors outside the operating room. It was a loooooooooong walk. Lots of tears. We said our 'I love yous' and then I was ready. And then we noticed I still had my glasses on so my husband had to come back and we had to part all over again. Then I was pushed through the big double doors.

Through the doors I was greeted by the anesthesiologist who reviewed a few things with me. I reminded him that I had a port-a-cath in my chest that I'd like to keep. Then through the next set of doors into the OR.

I tried not to look around. I was still crying silent tears but I was happy. I was ready. I saw a few people in green off to the side counting supplies on a table. I saw the two giant OR lights turned off above me. I transferred onto the table and chatted with the anesthesiologists and ensured them I was an Edmonton Oilers hockey fan. I thanked them and asked them to thank everyone else for me.

And that's all I remember with my old lungs.