Hello! And thank you for checking out the blog. If this is your first time here, please start at the beginning by clicking this link ----> http://jakekpt.blogspot.com/2010/07/introduction.html

BAM!
And I love you.

1 YEAR ANNIVERSARY

Justin... words are not enough to express the gratitude for what you have given me. I mourn the loss of your life while embracing the rebirth of my own. Your family has been so good to me, and not a day goes by that I don't think of you. Thank you for being an organ donor. You have helped so many people and you have changed my life.

Pamela Vehar, Cam Vehar, Jake Cordova, Paul Vehar
08/27/2011 at Library Square, Salt Lake City, Utah

On August 27th, 2011 the downtown Salt Lake City Library unveiled a glass wall monument honoring organ donors, living and deceased who donated organs during the past year. More than 400 names were added, including Justin's. His mother Pamela and his father Paul invited me to join them for the unveiling, and I couldn't pass it up.

It was crowded. There was a mix of people, young and old standing in the southeast corner of the lawn. We heard people talk on a microphone about the experience of being an organ recipient, as well as people talk about the importance of organ donation. Someone pointed out a little girl, about 3 years old who had received a liver transplant. She wore a billowy dress and was playing near the water, a big warm smile on her face. She looked as happy and healthy as any other kid her age. She was loving the day.

Organ donation really is the coolest thing a person can do. It saves lives, it changes lives... And it is the very definition of unselfishness.

Because of organ donation, everything I ever knew about being alive changed last year on this day. My life has escalated into an upward whirlwind of adventure and possibilities. I embrace the change, I almost crave it. I find pleasure in just opening my eyes each morning. It's the little things, you know? Food tastes better, the sky always looks incredible, the wind seems to always feel refreshing against my face. It's great! I want to fully embrace my existence as a non-diabetic and rock the hell out of it in the best way I can. So that's exactly what I'm doing and it's a really good thing. I'm just happy to be here.

This has been the greatest 12 months of my life and it will only get better.

Thank you for sharing my journey. It has been fun writing this blog and sharing the experience. I have met a lot of great people and heard some incredible life-changing stories.


I love you guys!

In honor of Justin Patrick Vehar.
10/28/1988 - 8/31/2010

http://www.facebook.com/groups/150226321668327/ 

http://www.celebrationoflifemonument.com/

Fistula Undoing

Chris drove me once again to the IMC hospital early Wednesday morning on March 30, 2011 where I was scheduled to have my dialysis fistula tied off at 5:30am.

I beamed as I laid in bed after multiple hospital staff had come in to set I.V.'s, ask me questions, explain the procedure, etc.

"This is why I love hospitals so much!" I said to Chris, who gave me a no-nonsense look. "Because I get to talk to so many people. I am charged!"

A few weeks prior, I had discovered from several different online personality tests that I am known as an "extreme extrovert," which means when I talk to new people or find myself in large crowds, my batteries get charged. And it's true! I really do feel an energy boost from socializing. On the other hand, I learned that introverts can be just as social, however they need to be alone with their thoughts to recharge their batteries.

"Do you see a difference?" I asked Chris (she is a more balanced social introvert). "Can you tell how energized I am after talking with all of those people?" I could feel insurmountable joy bursting from within. The natural dopamine in an extroverts brain increases with social interaction. It's like a drug.

"You're always like this," she said, smiling.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

I was so wound up and free-flowing that I conversed with Dr. Wirthlin and his assistants through the entire surgical process. A local anesthetic was used, so I was in a sort of dreamy conscious state. As I lay there in a twilight haze, I felt the veins in my left inner elbow being pulled and moved.

"I can feel that," I said.

"That's because we're tying off the vein, but we're almost done." 

I lay there for a couple of minutes and then a surge of electricity shot through my entire left arm.

"Ahhhhh! What is that?"

"Christopher," came a female voice from Dr. Wirthlin's assistant, "we are cauterizing a vein with an electrical knife. Sometimes the current will spread through the veins."

A male voice chuckled from behind me and said, "I don't think you have to tell him that." I laughed and so did everybody in the room.

A few more minutes went by and the female voice said, "Christopher, we are going to cauterize again so you might feel this."

"OK."

Zaaapppp!

"Are you OK?"

"Yeah, it's not so bad when you know it's coming."

When I saw Dr. Wirthlin in his office a couple of weeks before the surgery, he explained the process: Basically, they would tie off the fistula so no more blood would rush through it, thus rendering the vein useless. It's not as bad as it sounds because the vein was pumping as much blood as an artery so it wasn't really a vein anymore. Instead, it was a portal for dialysis, which I don't need. He also explained that the large bulge a few inches below my fistula (a hematoma) would never go down on its own, and in fact it could grow bigger! So he planned to remove as much of it as he could during the procedure.

As I lay on the table in the surgery room, I heard some muffled discussion that went like this:

"Wow, look at that!"

"That is big."

"Hold on, I want to take a picture."

"Set it there, yeah. No... right there, yeah. Like that."

"Look at that."

"Wow!"

"Look at the size of that thing!"

"Christopher, do you want to see what we pulled out of your arm?"

ME: "Yeah, I wanna see!"

Dr. Wirthlin walked around the back of my head and held up a bright red glistening glob.

"That was in my arm?" I asked.

"It was, but not anymore. Look at that."

"I would love to take that to work in a glass jar to freak everybody out. Ha ha. Can I keep it?"

Dr. Wirthlin laughed nervously... He didn't know if I was joking.

"I'm just kidding, but it would be cool to have it on display at home."

Click on the image to see a more detailed version.



The throbbing is gone. The lump in my arm is gone, and after the scar completely heals there will hardly be any trace of where my dialysis fistula used to be. It's been 7 and a half months since the transplant and each day continues to get better.

What can I say? Life is good.

6 Month Anniversary

Today is the 6 month anniversary of my Kidney-Pancreas Transplant. It has been a time of change, a time of healing and a time of infinite possibilities! I can’t help being optimistic because that’s how I’ve always been, however Chris and I had a conversation the other night about the ups and downs of kidney failure. It’s amazing to think about everything we’ve gone through…

CHRIS: “Sometimes when I hear myself talking to people about the past year, it makes me stop and wonder how we did it. Diabetes, kidney failure, dialysis, and a transplant… all of it, you know? Like, how did we get through everything without breaking down?”

JAKE: “Well, because we had to.”

CHRIS: “Yes, and we did it. We worked together to make everything go as smoothly as possible. Over time, you and I have developed a good way of dealing with things, haven’t we? I guess it’s true when they say people don’t know what they’re capable of until they try.”

JAKE: “That’s how we roll.”

There is no doubt in my mind that if it were not for Chris, I would have died from diabetic complications at some point in 2010. She has saved my life more than I can count, and even now she continues to be my greatest source of strength, advice and compassion. She is the first person I turn to when I need anything and she has never shied away from offering her honest opinion when it is asked.

Nowadays I catch myself thinking about how dire kidney failure is. Being on dialysis really isn’t fun, and even though there may be a time in the future where I find myself hooked up to a machine again, I can’t help but remember the dialysis experience as a far-away blurred vision, like a bad dream. Sprinkle Type-1 diabetes into the mix, and it just seems crazy. I have become so easily accustomed to NOT being diabetic or having kidney failure, that it almost seems like I never had them at all. I suppose it is a testament to modern-day technology and the will to live.

But what are the cons of a transplant? Within the past few weeks, I’ve developed horrible acne on my forehead. At first, I thought it was because of a certain shampoo I was using, so I switched brands but the acne seemed to get worse. I did some research online and discovered an amazing cream called ZAPZYT that contains 10% benzoyl peroxide. It seems to be working, but I have to apply it several times a day, every day, along with Salicylic Acid astringent and face wash. I talked to Dr. Cline about it last Friday and he said, “Ah, this is a classic symptom of anti-rejection drugs.” So he prescribed a few other topical creams.

While I was there, I showed him how powerful the fistula was in my left arm and asked when I could expect to do something about it. He said that generally he likes patients to wait at least 6 months out from surgery before having it undone, to which I replied, “So, I can call Dr. Wirthlin next week?” He nodded. YES!!

 Click on the image to see a more detailed version.

6 months is a good indicator of how successful the transplant is. By now, the theory is that my body is fully recovered from surgery and if there were any warning signs of rejection, they would most likely have shown themselves. Of course, organs can reject at any time, and technically the doctors keep a close watch on things for the first 2 years, but so far my numbers have been perfect and I feel incredible. There are no doubts in my mind that the new kidney and pancreas are going to last me a very long time. In the far away future, if and when the organs expire, I will be ready for another K/P transplant with spirits high and eagerness aplenty! The pros still outweigh the cons by a landslide, and I don’t think there is really anything I wouldn’t do to stay feeling this good. It is incredible.

I have met a few more people on Facebook who are expecting “the call” any day now. It brings back memories. I am always excited to learn about someone who is on dialysis and has been diabetic for most of their life, waiting to get a transplant. They are in for an incredible transformation. It is unreal. It is amazing!

If you are pre or post a K/P transplant of your own, or if you are a friend or family member of somebody who is, or even a caregiver, please join the “Kidney Pancreas Transplant Group” on Facebook. I created it over the weekend so we can share our stories, ask questions and help each other out. Everybody experiences these things differently, so join our group to share your experience.

Link: http://on.fb.me/g9Ehto

Pinch Me

Today marks the 1 year anniversary of my first kidney dialysis treatment. Looking back, it seems like a dream. I’ve come a long way in 365 days and I still find myself wondering if it’s real. Has the disease I’ve known for most of my life really gone away? Is it really possible that I feel this good and have this much energy? I half-expect to wake up and find myself sitting in the brown leathery reclining chair at South Mountain Dialysis, hearing the beep of the machine with a nurse standing over me asking if I’m OK.

Truth be told, I am more than OK. In fact, I feel brand new!

The fistula in my left arm is still working like a champ. If I wear short sleeves, people sometimes notice the small bulges near my inner elbow and ask, “Are you getting that removed?” But there is nothing to remove. The vein running through my bicep was attached to my artery so now it pulses with the same amount of blood as an artery. There is nothing artificial in there to 'take out.' So it is what it is.

A couple of weeks ago I started feeling movement in the lower left side of my stomach, where the new kidney sits. Every so often, it felt like liquid, or air, or something was being pushed through the kidney. It didn’t hurt, and I wasn’t convinced I needed medical attention, so I didn’t worry... Until the next day when the movement continued.

I called the Transplant center and spoke with Stephanie. She said it might be some fluid build-up and told me to call Dr. Cline because he will probably want an ultrasound done. I called him and we set an appointment at Alta View Hospital for Saturday afternoon. To be clear, I had no symptoms of kidney failure. I didn’t feel sick, have a fever, or have the chills. I was still making urine just fine and I wasn’t in pain, but the strange feeling of motion just didn’t feel normal.

At this point, I think it's safe to say I’ve had more ultrasounds than a pregnant woman.

During the process, I asked the technician if he saw anything noticeably worrisome. I explained that I know he’s supposed to tell me to check with my doctor, but I knew they were looking for abnormal fluid or obstructions. He said everything looked OK to him, but he was going to have a doc take a look at the images as soon as they were captured. Just then, the movement happened.

“Hey! It’s happening right now.”

“Yeah, I felt something there. It kind of felt like gas.” We chuckled.

“Did anything show up on the screen?”

“Let me check… No, nothing there.”

Before we left, a doctor looked over the images from the ultrasound and gave us the OK to go home. He said nothing looked abnormal or worrisome, but advised me to check with Dr. Cline on Monday. When I spoke with Dr. Cline, we determined it was either gas or build up in the intestines. You see, the kidney is placed down there, sort of nestled against the lower intestinal walls so any major blockage or bad gas could sort of jumble things around. Dr. Cline advised me to make sure I don’t get constipated, and if for some reason I felt backed-up or I wasn’t evacuating my bowels, to take proper action to make it happen. It’s crazy to think about, but that’s the world of transplants. Proper bowel movements = proper health. Ha ha.

Marcia, a woman from Texas who celebrated her kidney-pancreas transplant anniversary on February 3rd, talked to me in a Facebook chat. We discussed how amazing it is to feel so different now, so healthy and alive and better. She said she still pinches herself everyday to make sure she isn’t dreaming. There are things she wants to do now that she didn’t do when she was younger, and boy, do I know the feeling.

I lay awake in bed at night for hours thinking of all the possibilities life has to offer. I am 35 years old, which is relatively young and I know there is still plenty of time to enjoy life and to be adventurous and to have as much fun as possible. The trouble is, some of my friends already partied hard when they were in their 20’s and now they have kids and are thinking along different terms. It frustrates me, because for the first time in my life, I don’t have to worry or even think about being diabetic. So I am ready to rock! The world looks different now, food tastes different, friendship has a new meaning, and life seems easier and more fulfilling. I suppose a year ago I was as close to death as I’ll ever be. Dialysis drained me for 7 months; diabetes drained me for 32 years. 32 YEARS! And now it’s gone. It’s completely gone. Just like that.

How can I possibly put into words how it feels? Imagine if all of the sudden at the age of 35 you could fly. Any time you wanted, you could just lift off the ground and fly anywhere you desired. You never knew what it felt like because your world never gave you the option of flight. And for most of your life, you didn’t think you would EVER be able to fly, but NOW YOU CAN FLY! So what are you going to do? You’re probably going to fly as high as you can, as much as you can, to every place you can imagine simply because all of the sudden YOU CAN FLY!

Chris asked me if I was going through a mid life crisis. I laughed and told her I suppose it’s something like that, but not really. It’s like my view of life has shifted slightly. I still see most things in the same way, but some things are entirely different. There are new and exciting possibilities everywhere I look. Life is golden, and I want to grab it and carry it with me before it's over.

I am lucky to have this opportunity and I am grateful to be alive. I will not take anything for granted ever again. We only have one life. This is not a rehearsal. This is the real deal.

This is it.


*2011, Year of the Golden Rabbit
Not many people know that the Rabbit is the symbol of the Moon, while the Peacock is the symbol of the Sun, and that together, these two animal signs signify the start of day and night, represent the Yin and Yang of life. It is said that anyone making supplications for wishes to be fulfilled are certain to get what they want... and in the Year of the Rabbit, the wish-granting aspect of the Sun and the Moon combined is multiplied. The Moon is YIN and this is the Yin of Heaven, signifying magic. Thus on each of the Full Moon nights of this year, go out into your garden to gaze into the Full Moon and visualize plenty of Moon dust and Moon glow flowing into you, filling your whole body with bright white light and granting you fearlessness, love and courage. This will not only strengthen your inner "Chi" energy, it will also bring wisdom into your life.


Source: http://www.wtv-zone.com/Jakebay/2011rabbit.html

My Organ Donor

With the blessing of his mother, Pam,

here is a life in pictures of Justin Patrick Vehar.

From the Facebook memorial page of the greatest person I never had the chance to meet. Justin Patrick Vehar, my organ donor. http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=150226321668327

Dancing with the Universe

HAPPY 2011! It's been awhile since my last post so let's do it:

It’s been 4 and a half months since the surgeons placed a new kidney and pancreas inside of my belly and I feel AMAZING!! Every couple of weeks, I am hit with a massive energy level increase. I am fused with overwhelming happiness, thankfulness, youthfulness, as well as an abundance of life! I am still working on losing weight, but I started a regular exercise routine using Just Dance 2 for the Nintendo Wii this past weekend. Busting some light and feisty dance moves 3 or 4 times a week should help.

On December 1st, my anti-rejection medication dose dropped significantly, which allowed me to feel a little easier being around people who “might” be sick. I still use hand sanitizer throughout the day and of course I avoid being near anyone showing visible signs of illness, but an interesting discovery was made when Christiana caught the common cold then subsequently developed a fierce sinus infection. It got so bad that she even had to take antibiotics. Her symptoms lasted over a week, and we were together almost the entire time. So did I get sick? Pffffft! I am Jake Cordova. I don’t get sick. (And I didn’t.)

So it is cool to know that my immune system is strong enough to fight off the common cold, yet cool enough to work with my new body. Dr. Cline said the body gets to a point where it realizes the organs are there to stay and a synchronicity is formed between the body, the medication, and the new organs. Yeah!! It is happening! I see Dr. Cline once a month and I get my blood work drawn every other week. Not bad compared to how I started out. And it will only become less frequent throughout the year. I'm really looking forward to it.

You know, it’s really not much trouble swigging back a small cluster of pills twice a day. In fact, I've been taking daily vitamins since being a senior in highschool, so it's easy. You could even say it's nothing compared to injecting insulin everytime I ate, and checking my blood sugar levels 5 times a day by pricking the tips of my fingers. No more of that!

On the internet, I have been in touch with a wonderful woman whose husband recently had a kidney transplant. She said that like me, he was more afraid of the stent removal than anything else, yet it was a quick and painless procedure. Truly! I also had the opportunity to talk on the phone with my donor’s mother. She is just as optimistic and wonderful in person as she was in her original letter. Her family has obviously been through a lot… but it was good to sit down and talk with her over the phone about her son and his life and what his incredible decision has meant for me. She is an amazing woman.

Earlier this month, I spent a cold Friday morning at a Fertility clinic in Sandy. After talking with Dr. Cline about whether or not I would be able to have kids, he said, “Assume you can and get tested to know for sure.” Sometimes the medication causes infertility, but it is more common in women. The thing is, neither Chris nor I want kids right now, and in the past we’ve never worried about it because, well… how can I put this…

You see, around the time of my late teens I determined through a series of “biological events” that I was incapable of getting a girl pregnant. I mean, there is no way I could be THAT lucky. However, because now all of my blood work is coming back “healthy and normal,” Chris and I decided not to take any chances. So I dropped off a sample at a local fertility clinic and discovered a week later that I am now VERY capable of getting somebody pregnant. Yikes!!

It’s good to know I am capable of being a father, but it's probably not in the cards. I’m just amazed at how many possibilities have emerged from all of this and are STILL emerging. Some people who don’t know me in real life or haven’t kept up with this blog or my Facebook page or my tweets, etc. will often ask… “How are you doing, Jake?” in a timid, mother-to-dying-child voice. I understand it, because when I first learned that I would need a transplant, I too was uncertain of the outcome. I thought I might end up confined to bed, weak, limited, and far from normal. But of course the answer I always give when I'm asked how I'm doing is this: “I feel better than I have in my entire life. I am a new man. It is unreal!” And it’s true; I don’t ever remember feeling this healthy. The transplant is the best thing that has ever happened to me since being born.


The Universe, she loves to dance with you. Show her a good time, laugh with her and be fun! For she pays you in kind.

The Universe provides.

Cloudy Interactions

I’ve gained ten pounds since coming home from the hospital. My nutritionist might be happy, but I’m not. Chris tells me not to worry about it until January when I can stop ‘snacking’ in between meals (as instructed) and get back on my exercise and calorie-limitation diet. Now I need to lose 30-35 pounds to reach my personal goal! I can’t wait to get back on track in 2011.

* * * *

Last Wednesday I went to the IMC a day before my nephrostogram (“tube removal”) was scheduled because I was leaking from the insertion site in my stomach again. The leakage wasn’t as bad as before, but it was still unpleasant.

I was told the angiogram team was too busy to squeeze me in, however I was given a bunch of tape, gauze, and pads to keep me as dry as possibly until my appointment the next day.

Fair enough.

I went home and changed into sweat pants and an old T-Shirt. If I was going to leak all night, at least I could do it in comfort.

Upon examining the stay-fix bandage covering the insertion site, I noticed it was soaked and needed to be changed. After removing the damp bandage, I noticed the nephrostomy tube was sticking out a lot longer than it should have been. I tried to push it back inside of me, and to my surprise it went in easily and without pain or discomfort. Amazingly, this solved the leakage problem! Nice!

The next day, I went to the hospital and had the tube removed. During the process, the doc noticed some “cloudiness” in the fluid. She said this could be a sign of infection. So I lay there on the small procedural bed while she called Dr. Stinson from the transplant team in the adjacent building.

By now, this sort of thing is so normal, I don’t even flinch. My immune system is suppressed and always will be, so any little thing needs extra caution and concern before just treating it in a normal way. No big deal.

They decided to give me a week long dose of antibiotics. I showed no symptoms of anything serious- I wasn’t sweating, experiencing fever or chills, nor was I in any pain, so they let me go home. Once again I left the IMC hospital with nothing attached to me. BIG YES!!

On a side note, my body is absorbing the anti-rejection meds very quickly, so the dose has dropped to less than half the amount it was on the day of my initial release. After the 1st of December, I will stop taking 3 other pills completely, and my anti-rejection meds will drop again so it is very possible that I will take less than 10 pills a day! We’ll see...


* * * *

I was given the link to my donor’s obituary from a friend online. I also searched for his name on Facebook and found a memorial page as well as his personal profile. On the memorial page, someone posted a video set to music using photographs from his life. It was difficult to watch, but very touching. I feel a mix of immense sadness and gratefulness all at the same time. It’s hard to separate the emotions because they are so interlocked in my head and in my heart. I am saddened that this person was taken at such a young age, yet I am grateful that he made a choice to help so many people. I will always remember him.

* * * *

I met a woman online who had a k/p transplant in February of this year! I am excited to hear from her because our surgeries happened so close together. She lives in Texas with her family and has started a blog of her own. She is a very positive person and has nothing but good things to say about her transplant team.

She’s posted pics on Facebook, including an album called “Before and After Transplant.” I looked through them and noticed how much more vibrant and healthy the “after” pics were compared to the “before” pics.

Now I understand what people mean when they say I look so much better...

* * * *

For those who might not know, I used to do a podcast with my ex-wife Erin, called “Just not Right.” It ran for three years over the internet and can still be downloaded via iTunes or straight from the website: http://notrightpodcast.blogspot.com/2007_11_01_archive.html

It was a lot of fun! Because of its success, the local paper ran a story on us, and we were even invited to appear on a local radio station here in Salt Lake City a few times.

Last week, my good friend Bart told me he was appearing on a local internet radio show. I tuned in to discover that the DJ was an old friend of ours who we hadn’t seen in almost 20 years! Her name is Terra and she is the host of a show called VOX HUMANUS that airs every Thursday night on http://utahfm.org/ from 6-9pm MST.

Last week, Bart and I were guests on Terra's show and we had a blast! It was suggested that we appear on VOX HUMANUS more often, so if you are interested, check it out sometime. It’s free, unregulated streaming community internet radio! And if all goes well, Bart and I might end up hosting our own show. We’ll see what happens.


Stay tuned…

Contact from the Donor Family

Saturday, completely out of the blue, I received a letter from the donor family.

Chris and I had just come home from seeing “Nowhere Boy” (the story of John Lennon as a teenager), at the Broadway Cinemas in downtown Salt Lake City. It was an awesome film, but very emotional. We both cried while watching it, and were ready to unwind and eat some dinner at home.

When we pulled into the garage, Chris took some grocery bags into the house. I walked to the mailbox and grabbed the pile of letters and advertisements inside. As I flipped through the mail, I noticed a large white envelope from IMC hospital. I thought I knew what it was...

You see, the last time I saw Dr. Cline, I forgot to bring my health insurance card with me. He said they would bill my health insurance anyway, but if it didn’t go through they told me to let them know so they could fix it.

I thought that’s what the envelope contained.

I walked to the recycle bin on the side of our house and dumped the junk mail inside. Then, I walked back towards the garage and tore open the white packet.

The first thing I saw was a pastel greeting card envelope. “What..?” I thought to myself and stopped walking. The flap was not sealed. I slid out a greeting card inside which turned out to be a really nice “Get Well” card signed from “A woman, A man, & Family.” (The names were written, but I will leave them out of the blog to respect the family.) Tucked inside of the card was a plain white piece of paper folded up.

I opened the piece of paper and read a hand-written letter from a woman I have never met. As soon as I read the first sentence, I knew who it was from and was immediately overwhelmed.

She wrote about her son, his interests, his job, how he passed away, and how happy his entire family was that he was able to help me. She also wrote his name. All of this made me visualize my donor as a real person with a great life and an amazing, loving family. I was stunned to learn how young my donor was. He was barely an adult.

Chris walked outside and saw me standing in the driveway reading the letter. She walked over to me and asked what I was reading. Then she saw my eyes and asked what was wrong. I handed her the letter and burst into tears. We hugged and both cried really hard.

I want to share an excerpt from the letter because I feel it emphasizes the importance of communicating your desire to be an organ donor with your family:

“The day before he died, we had a conversation about organ donation. That’s how we came to do this. He had told me.”

I spent a very long time the next day writing a response to the donor family. I re-wrote many paragraphs, changed things around, took things out, added things in, until it finally was complete. I am taking it to the IMC transplant center today after work so they can forward it to the family on my behalf.

Last names are not included, nor are personal addresses or contact details of any kind. I included the URL of this blog in case the family wants to read about my experience, or befriend me on Facebook. For me, it would be awesome to be in direct contact with my donor's family, but I will leave that decision to them.

I am just grateful that the mother took the time to write to me, and to send me an amazing card. It means a lot and I will never forget her son and her family.

They have changed my life, and now that I know a little about the donor and his family, they have change my entire perspective on the transplant.

Positive Changes

Next week is my 2 month anniversary from the transplant. Can you believe I am still discovering new benefits from no longer being diabetic?

Check it out:

I have switched from doing blood work at the IMC hospital in Murray, to having my blood drawn at Alta View hospital in Sandy, which is only a few minutes from my house. I am also seeing Dr. Cline again instead of the transplant team at IMC. They assured me they are always available if I have any questions for them and they will continue to monitor my blood work, but it’s good to see Dr. Cline in his office again. He’s been awesome through the entire process of my End Stage Renal (kidney) Disease. (ESRD.)

Along with the usual numbers they look at when they draw blood from a transplant recipient, Dr. Cline ordered a Vitamin D and a cholesterol draw. For the past 15+ years, I’ve been on pills for high cholesterol, mainly due to diabetes. But when I called the Alta View Hospital lab to see what my numbers were, I discovered that my cholesterol is the lowest it has been in years! It's practically normal! Dr. Cline explains this is partly due to my new pancreas; however the kidneys also have some control over a person’s cholesterol. Not only that, but my Vitamin D is higher than it was during my time on dialysis, also due to my new kidney.

Whoa! Is there anything the kidneys don’t do? :)

On top of that, I recently noticed that I am no longer aware that I am wearing contact lenses. When I was diabetic, throughout the day I would sort of feel the contacts against my eyes. It didn’t hurt or anything, but I would sometimes find myself adjusting them or putting in extra eye drops. After work, I’d take them out of my eyes to feel relief. But now… I don’t even notice them. And yesterday, for the first time since I started wearing lenses, I kept them in until I went to bed. D'oh! I completely forgot I was wearing them so I had to jump out of bed and take them out. No way!

Life as a normal person just keeps getting better and better.

I still have the nephrostomy tube in me, but I’m hoping to get that removed next week, or possibly the week after that.

It’s been great to meet so many people online who have followed my story and can relate to it in one way or another. Many diabetics who are reaching the first stage of ESRD have talked to me about their own worries and experiences with kidney failure and diabetes. I welcome these comments and questions with open arms. It’s easy to feel alone and discouraged when faced with kidney failure, but you should know that you are not alone. It is a growing epidemic in the U.S., mainly due to diabetes, high blood pressure, heavy ibuprofen use, and the consumption of foods high in sodium. You are NOT alone!

I have also been in contact with people who have gone through different medical surgeries and have experienced different diseases. I am humbled and amazed at how much positivity and energy some of these people have. I look at my procedure as a positive experience because I’ve benefited significantly from it, but I hear stories of people undergoing major surgery just so they don’t die. And afterwards, they are left in pain, without pieces of their organs, and somewhat defeated... However, like all human beings with a will to survive, they continue the fight to stay as healthy as they can to be here for the ones they love.

Life is not for the weak. There is plenty of bad as well as plenty of good that can happen to us every day. We have to recognize the good when it shows itself, and we need to remember the bad is not as powerful as it might seem.


And bad things, no matter how terrible they might be, shall pass.

Nephrostomy Tube

The week following the nephrostomy tube insertion was fraught with discouragement and frustration. I tried to remain optimistic by telling myself, “At least it’s not a rejection! And hey, I am not diabetic anymore, so this is totally worth it!” But I was leaking urine from my tube day and night. It got all over my clothes, it smelled, and I carried around a ‘pee-bag’ attached to my leg that I had to unscrew and drain in the toilet every couple of hours. Also, the pain I felt during the procedure never went away. It was a horrible burning sensation in my stomach just underneath the insertion site.

I don’t mean to complain or sound negative. Looking back, I suppose would rather have some complications during recovery rather than during surgery. So while it really wasn’t that bad, it still took its toll on me mentally.

The breaking point was when I started leaking urine from the insertion site. I leaked A LOT of fluid. Imagine peeing from a weird hole in your stomach. You can’t stop it, it’s gushing down your clothes, and you just want to lay down and cry. I couldn’t do that, so I went to the Emergency Room, then back to the angiogram team. After 3 days of trial and error, and two different tube replacements, they finally stopped the leaking. The painful burning sensation, we all found out, was from the original tube not being inserted deep enough into my stomach. Apparently, I was feeling pee rush from a hole in the tube into my open flesh. (The hole is supposed to be there, but it’s supposed to absorb fluid from my kidney.) It burned. It burned really bad. But now it’s all gone.

On the brighter side, I returned to work on Monday to find my desk adorned with kidney and pancreas pictures. One co-worker went so far as to clip a ‘pee-bag’ to my wall. (She used pickle juice and a sandwich baggie.) It looked very authentic. Another co-worker brought in kidney-shaped rice crispy treats. Ha ha! Do I have a cool team, or what?

Everyone was overjoyed to see me and treated me like a celebrity. It is good to be around the beautiful smiling faces I’ve missed over the past 5 weeks. When people ask how I feel, I tell them mentally I feel better than I have in my entire life, but physically I am still catching up. My surgery scar is nearly 100% healed, the nephrostomy tube will remain in my stomach for another 4 ½ weeks, but it is no longer painful, and it no longer leaks, and I am no longer connected to a 'pee-bag' so I am urinating normally.

By the way, I recently discovered where the ureter is located. For some reason, I thought it was some sort of muscle near my prostate, but no. It is the tube that connects the kidney to the bladder. A-ha! So now I understand how the tube is helping to keep the ureter open.

Some minor annoyances have been when friends try to give me health advice. I know it comes from a good place, so I try to take it in stride, but what they don’t understand is that I have an entire team of medical professionals telling me exactly what I can and can’t do, what I can and can’t eat or drink, and what precise steps I need to take to ensure my health. It’s not just one doctor. It’s not just one person at the transplant clinic. It’s a team of surgeons, nephrologists, doctors, and pharmacists who deal EXCLUSIVELY WITH TRANSPLANT PATIENTS. Most people understand this, but there are always a few who think they know better.

Those rascally scamps!

Anyway, the entries into this blog will probably come less frequently, but they will continue until I am completely healed and functioning normally. I may even post a few entries after that, just to reflect on my life as a new person. I still need to write a letter to the donor family. It will be hard to write, but I know I need to do it. I’m just not sure how to express my gratitude…

Thank you for following this adventure. It has been an awesome roller coaster ride and I’m glad everything is turning out for the best. Your kind thoughts and well wishes have not gone unnoticed and I’m glad you’ve been here with me. Your encouragement has really helped.

Rock N Roll!!

Kidney Rejection Speed Bumps

The afternoon following my stent removal, I went to my last scheduled clinic visit at the IMC Transplant Center. Everyone was impressed with my rate of recovery. They said my numbers were great, everything was looking good, and this is probably the last time I'll see anyone from the transplant center.

They wished me good health and bid me adieu.

That night, I celebrated by enjoying a few alcoholic beverages. It felt good to get buzzed and enjoy a night of happy intoxication- something I've haven't done in the past month. But the next morning when my alarm went off at 7:00am, I felt all sorts of crummy. I didn't want to get out of bed, and I got a crazy idea in my head that I felt sick.

Wait a minute, I don't get sick, I told myself. But I didn't drink enough last night to trigger a hangover... did I? I didn't, but I decided it probably was a hangover because I had not consumed mixed beverages in quite awhile. So I went to the IMC hospital and did some blood work, then I went back home and crawled back into bed.

Three hours later, as I lay in a heavy sleep completely oblivious to the world, my cell phone went crazy. Stephanie from the Transplant center was calling, and Chris was calling from work. Finally, I woke up and looked at my phone. I called Chris first. She said Stephanie called her trying to get a hold of me. My numbers from the morning's blood draw were way off and they wanted me to go back to the IMC immediately. I told Chris I would call Stephanie to get more details, and I would let Chris know what is up.

When I called Steph, she said it looked like one of two things. 1.) Either my body was not absorbing enough of the anti-rejection meds, or 2.) my body was rejecting the new kidney. She asked me to go to the IMC as soon as possible so they could run an ultrasound, and possibly do a kidney biopsy. (Fun stuff!) I explained that I had some alcohol the night before, however Stephanie said that probably would not affect my blood work, but she would ask Dr. Stinson to be sure.

I drove to the IMC. As soon as I got there, Steph said I looked like I was still asleep. I told her when I first woke up this morning I thought I had a hangover, but now I realize I just feel like crap, so something is definitely not right. Upon hearing me say the word 'hangover,' Stephanie remembered asking Dr. Stinson about alcohol consumption. She told me the following:

STEPHANIE: "I told Dr. Stinson that you mentioned drinking last night. He said you could go on a wild crazy drinking binge and it would have no effect on your new organs or on your blood work numbers whatsoever."

Upon hearing this, a light bulb went on in my head and I almost heard an audible 'click' somewhere in the top of my brain. It was like I had been given the key to my very own brew pub. I vowed then and there, that as soon as I am fully recovered, I am going out with a group of friends on a wild crazy drinking rampage!! (Several people are already with me. Care to join us?)

Then I saw Dr. Stinson. He asked the general questions and when it came to the question about Am I urinating, I explained that since having the stent removed, I have not been able to urinate as much as I should. It comes out a lot slower, but not only that, the volume has decreased significantly.

This information caused the doc to pause. "That might be what's causing the spike in your numbers," he said. "You may have some blockage."

So I was sent down to radiology to do an ultrasound of the new kidney. BINGO! They immediately found  some wicked blood clots in my bladder which were obstructing the normal flow of urine. This was probably a result from the stent being removed.

They had already prepped me for a biopsy (which is when they stick a needle down to my kidney and clip a tiny piece of it off to examine under a microscope for signs of rejection), but now the plan changed. They said my new kidney was swollen with fluid and needed to be drained ASAP! So they sent me to the angiogram department where I underwent an hour long procedure of having a tube inserted through my kidney, down into my bladder, and out my ureter. This created a new stent in the ureter, and also allowed fluid to pour out of me, through the tube, directly from my kidney.

I was awake for the entire process, and though I didn't feel anything inside of my kidney (the doc explained while there are nerves inside of the new organs, they are not attached to my body, so I will never feel pain from them), I felt plenty of pain in my tender and sore stomach muscles- muscles I have not used in weeks, muscles that are still recovering from major surgery. OUCH!! It really f*&^#$n' hurt.

Afterward, they had me recover for a couple of hours in a nearby room where my kidney was drained of blood-red urine into a medium-sized bladder bag. They said my pee would look red for a few days because of the blood from the angiogram and they weren't kidding. It looks like kool-aid.

Every few hours, the bag fills up and has to be drained by one of the aides. They measure the outpour each time and document the volume into the computer. I was already admitted to the hospital and the doc called up to say it was merely for observation and safety that I stay overnight, to make sure I wasn't having anymore signs of rejection. Just to be safe. I guess that's the thing with transplant patients, they like to be extra careful when doing any type of medical procedure.

Early on, I noticed the tube was leaking. I was sitting in bed and I pulled the covers out from my leg to reveal a massive amount of wetness all over the left side of my thigh. It was like I peed myself without even trying!

The nurse tried tightening the connection, but it was already secure. There appeared to be leakage from beneath a little rubber thing in place over the tube. So she called down to the angiogram team and they said the only cause would be a defective tube, which they had never heard of before. So they made plans for me to go back to the angiogram department the next day and have the tube replaced.

MORE PAIN!! I really did not want to do it, but if I had to, I had to... ::sigh::

This morning, I woke up and checked for leakage. There wasn't any. In fact, it seemed that the tube had miraculously fixed itself. When Dr. Stinson came in, he examined me and said if I wasn't leaking there really was no reason to replace the tube. (YES!!) He also said they were sending me home, though I would probably keep the tube-stent in for another six weeks. They will check up on it every so often and see how it's going. I was advised to pay close attention at the insertion site for any signs of infection or swollen tissue.

I left the hospital and drove to work so I could post for a job. It was roughly a 15-minute car ride and when I got out of my car I noticed a wet sensation near my left pocket. I glanced down and it seriously looked like I peed myself all over my shorts. Oh no... I'll have to call Stephanie after I post for the job and see if I need to go back to the hospital. Dammit!

Being back at work was really cool. Everybody came up to me and was surprised and shocked to see me so soon. They all said I looked great, and they even pretended not to notice the pee smell coming from my shorts. (I explained to them about the leakage and how I would probably have to go back to the hospital.) It was nice to be around my co-workers again. Most of them are really nice people and they honestly feel like my second family. I've missed them, and it was good to see their beautiful smiling faces.

After posting for the job, I walked back to my car and called Stephanie. I explained that I'm not sure if the tube was kinked while I was driving so she advised me to keep an eye on it for the next two hours and see if it still leaks. I drove home and took a shower. I also noticed that the tube was not leaking as much- still a little bit but nothing major.

I called Steph back with a theory. "It leaked really bad last night when I was sitting up in bed, and it leaked really bad today when I was sitting up in my car, but it didn't leak when I was laying down last night. So I think it leaks when the bag it at such an angle that gravity forces the fluid back down the tube instead of into the bag."

She said that is how the tubes are designed, so I need to keep it flowing downward at all times. I said I'd try it. She told me to call her back if the major leaking continues, or if I noticed swelling around the site, or major pain, or sickness, or anything else out of the ordinary.

Will do, Steph. So now I am back home, I have one more clinic appointment scheduled for Wednesday, and I plan to go back to work the following Monday, unless any other obstacles pop up during my recovery.

I was talking with a friend about this the other day, and it's really true. Each day has a set of speed bumps that we have to overcome. Not anything too big, but just little crap that we all have to deal with all the time. It never stops. The trick is to deal with each speed bump as it comes along and not let it get you down. How you handle speed bumps is what defines you as a person. Do you let speed bumps ruin your day, or do you slowly work over them to continue onward in your journey? It's a tough question, but think about it the next time a speed bump shows it's ugly face in the middle of your day.

What are you going to do?

Stent Removal

It's funny how sometimes your biggest worries turn out to be nothing. Take for example, the stent removal process.

It has been on my mind since I found out about it in the hospital. I tried to push it out of my thoughts as much as possible, but it kept coming back, banging at my brain like a bad dream. I was not looking forward to anybody, doctor or otherwise, sticking anything (no matter how small) into my penis.

So this morning as the nurse lead me into a special room and told me to undress from the waist down and lay under a thin sheet of hospital paper, I was worried. It's funny because I wasn't worried or nervous about major transplant surgery, recovery, hospital stay, clinic visits, etc. All of that was a walk in the park. But something about this whole "stent removal" had me on edge.

I laid there half naked on the table for several minutes before Dr. Putnum came in. He was friendly and to the point.

DR. PUTNUM: "OK, I know it's weird having something inserted into your penis, but this is a relatively painless and it's a quick procedure."

JAKE: "As long as I don't feel anything, I'll be OK."

DR. PUTNUM: "Well, you'll feel it, but it shouldn't be painful. I'm going to talk you through it. Think of it as a mind over matter state of consciousness. It's all about relaxing."

JAKE: "OK."

DR. PUTNUM: (Throwing back the hospital paper to look at my lower naked body.) "Here comes some soap... So, you had a transplant?"

JAKE: "Yeah, four weeks ago. It's been great."

DR. PUTNUM: (Pulling over a weird looking machine dangling from the ceiling.) "That's lidocaine jelly, by the way. It will numb you a little bit but it's mostly for the insertion. So, were you ever on dialysis?"

JAKE: "Yes, as a matter of fact you saw me right before I started for an enlarged prostate."

DR. PUTNUM: "I did? I'm sorry, I didn't look at your chart. Did they want your prostate checked before you started dialysis?"

JAKE: "Oh, no. It was just enlarged. You checked me out and said it was nothing to worry about, gave me some pills and I got all better."

DR. PUTNUM: "Oh good. Any problems since then?"

JAKE: "Nope."

DR. PUTNUM: "Great. Well, here comes the insertion. That should feel nice and easy, it's going in smoothly not touching the sides of your skin or anything, right?"

JAKE: "Yeah, not bad."

DR. PUTNUM: "OK, that was the easy part. I'll stop there for a second. Now I'm at your sphincter muscles and your prostate. You're going to feel this. The trick here is to relax and loosen that muscle and keep it loose until I'm through. Ready?"

JAKE: (Taking a deep breath in and slowly breathing out.) "OK, ready."

DR. PUTNUM: "OK, relax the muscle, relax, relax... relax... relax... and... good."

JAKE: "You say relax, but man! It's not easy."

DR. PUTNUM: "OK, if you look at the screen here, there's the stent. Your bladder is empty which is good, but the stent is at a weird angle, so I'm going to try and get at it this way... Nope, didn't do it. Let's try this... No, OK... well, I'm going to have to fill you with a little bit of fluid to get the stent at a different angle."

JAKE: (Feeling liquid inside of me, and simultaneously spilling over my thighs. Am I peeing it right back out through the machine?) "OK." (I have the option to watch all of this on a little TV screen, but I decide not to. Instead, I just sort of look at the ceiling and listen to what Dr. Putnum is saying. Suddenly, I am aware of something small and metal near my bladder. It doesn't hurt, but I can feel him hook onto it.)

DR. PUTNUM: "Got it! OK, and we're coming out now. Coming out, coming out... coming out, and... we're done."

JAKE: "That's it?"

DR. PUTNUM: "That's it. Come back and see me only if you need to. Otherwise, here's a towel to wipe yourself off. Take your time getting dressed and have a good day."

JAKE: "I can't believe that was it. WOW! That was nothing! Thank you."

He left the room, I got dressed and went home. And that's how it went. So now I am free of foreign objects inside of me. At least I'm free of any foreign objects that need to be removed. I have to imagine that there are things in place for the transplant that will stay there for the life of the organs, but I'm not really sure. Perhaps I'll ask this afternoon when I go to my last clinic visit.

Anyway, if you are need of a stent removal at any point in your life, try not to worry so much about it. It is very quick, and very painless. It's slightly uncomfortable for a few seconds, but the whole thing is done in about 2 minutes.

Like I said before, isn't it funny how sometimes your biggest worries turn out to be nothing?

Standing on the Brink of Possibilities

"You look great!"

"All the color is back in your face!"

"Oh My God, you look like you did 10 years ago. I can't believe how good you look."

"If you didn't tell me you had surgery this month, I never would have guessed. You look fantastic!"

"I can't believe how slim you look..."

"Your face has color again, I can feel the energy radiating off of you. Man, it's good to see you again!"

"Wait... you mean you're HAVING surgery? WHAT?! You already HAD IT?!? WEEKS AGO?? Oh my God, I never would have guessed."

"You're not diabetic anymore? What do you mean? What did you do?"

"Oh no... you're going to be EVEN MORE ENERGETIC than before? Oh no... we're in trouble..."

"You look like a new person. I can't believe it."

These are some of the quotes I've heard over the past few days from various people. It's nice, but apparently I must have looked really pale and sick while I was on dialysis. Not anymore. I am awake, walking around, dancing, and enjoying the hell out of my new life. I still can't believe I am no longer diabetic. It's awesome. It's amazing! It really is the beginning of a better me.

And I don't have to go to dialysis anymore! So many good things have come from this transplant. I remember there was a couple of days in the hospital when I felt so horrible that I told myself I will NEVER go through this again. I don't care if my new organs only last 20 years, there is no way I am going through this pain and agony ever again in my life! I felt terrible, but you know what? It passed. The bad feelings went away very quickly and now I am standing on the brink of possibilities for the future.

Even though I had a momentary lapse of reason in the hospital, I know without a doubt that I would go through ANYTHING to not be diabetic because it is freakin' worth it! Yes, there are risks with major surgery, and yes I will be on pills for the rest of my life, but it's not insulin. I don't have to check my blood sugar anymore, I don't have to feel drained and tired from whacked out blood sugar levels, and I have 12 extra hours a week to do as I please. No more dialysis! No more weird work schedule. When I go back to my desk job, I will feel refreshed and alive. I will work a normal Monday through Friday schedule at a normal time.

I'm not 100% recovered yet, but I am getting a little bit closer to being there with each passing day. Today I drove to a few different stores, walked around them all, made a few minor purchases, cleaned my car windshield, drove home and washed out our outside trash can and recycle bin. I didn't feel weak or winded. I felt natural and relaxed. Tonight, I watched some TV with Chris, and this afternoon I played some video games.

Yesterday I went to a movie with my older half-brother, James. And tomorrow morning, I'm getting my stent removed. And hell yes I am even almost a little bit excited for that to happen!

:: High Five! ::

First Day of Freedom

Yesterday was my first day of freedom. For the first time in 3 weeks, I was able to drive myself around and go into public places. I was excited! I was eager! And I needed to pick up a few things for the house, so there was an agenda. WOO-HOO! Let's do it!

First, I drove to a home repair store. I intended to pick up several different items, but once inside I was so excited to mingle amongst the shoppers and walk through the aisles that I forgot all about half of the items on my list. Oh well, no big deal.

Next, I traveled to a big box department store across the street. Only needed a couple of things there, but it was nice to casually walk around and check out the different wares.

I forgot, however, that I was not used to walking for an extended period of time. Nor was I accustomed to so much exercise. Very quickly, I discovered how much walking is involved when you go to the big box stores. Not only is it a trek from the parking lot, but you can easily walk a couple of miles from one end of the store to the other. No kidding.

I was wiped out. Before I got back to my car, I felt like I was going to collapse. Going to two stores had exhausted me and I was ready to go back home, take a pain pill, and perhaps even take a nap.

It is nice to be able to travel, but I have to remember to take it easy and not push myself too hard. I want to be in good shape when I go back to work in a couple of weeks.

Today, my plan is to take the remainder of my insulin pump supplies and some leftover bottles of insulin to the woman who educated me on how to use my insulin pump. Her name is Karla and she is an amazing person. There were a few times when I ran short on insulin and stopped by her office to grab a sample bottle, so now it's my turn to give back.

I never thought in my lifetime I would give away bottles of insulin because I don't need them anymore. Part of me wants to take a hammer to them in celebration, but insulin isn't cheap and I know somebody else can use the bottles. I'm also giving them some unopened blood test strips.

Products I will never use again. =)

LOTS OF GOOD NEWS

Today I had my first clinic visit at the IMC transplant center. It was kind of like being in the hospital again, but instead of laying in bed in a gown, I was in a Dr.'s office room in my own clothes where people came to see me.

First up, was a transplant pharmacist who made sure I was up-to-date on which meds I should be taking. She asked how I was feeling and went over a few changes with my anti-rejection pills. Some of you have asked how many pills I take everyday. Well, including vitamins, the number is close to 40, but starting tomorrow it will be less than 30. (I was on extra antibiotics and such for the first week home.) It seems like a lot of pills, I know! But when they're all piled together, they aren't so difficult to swallow.

Oh, I almost forgot. My white blood cell count is down to 8.0, which means whatever infection I had has completely vanished. Good news!

And that's not all, the nephrologist on site looked over my numbers and gave me even more good news! He said starting next week I only have to go in twice a week for blood work! And he told me I can drive again! WOO-HOO!! Up until now, Chris has been driving me anywhere I need to go. I've been like a dog. I can go in the car with her, but I have to wait inside the car in the parking lot while she goes into any public places. Hey, I am just happy to get out of the house, but now I can drive myself around (as long as I'm not on any pain pills) AND the good doctor said I am OK to go into public places now. He said if I see a movie and the person next to me is coughing, just move to another section of the theater. I still want to avoid being around anyone who's sick. Perhaps I will catch a matinee of "Machete" this week... YES!!

But that's not all! Dr. Fujita, the surgeon who performed my transplant, took all of the staples out of my stomach. Ahhhhh!! My clothes were rubbing against some of the staples, causing them to press into my skin. That is the only reason I've been taking pain meds, but now that they are finally out I'm pretty sure I won't take so many pain pills anymore. BIG YES!!

So, just to recap: in a matter of minutes I was told I only have to go in twice a week for blood work, I can drive again, I can finally go into public places and not be stuck at home, my staples were removed, and not only that, I am cleared to go back to work as soon as I feel up to it. NICE!!

But, there is one wicked nasty little hitch... A few days before I was released from the hospital, it was explained to me that there was a tiny stent placed near my bladder to keep the flow of urine open. They didn't want anything obstructing my urine. Not too bad, right? Well, I have an appointment next Wednesday to have it removed. How will it be removed, you ask? By my urologist (mentioned in the very first post of this blog). Yeah, apparently he has a very small tool that will be inserted into my penis with a little camera at the end. He will locate the stent, hook onto it and pull it out... from the tip of my penis.

I can tell by the look on your face that you are as excited for this little outpatient procedure as I am. :: Gulp! ::

"Will they put me under?" I ask.

"No, from what I understand they will shoot some numbing gel into your penis so you won't feel anything. You will be awake while Dr, Putnum inserts his little tool into you with a camera on the end and pulls out the stent. It is a very quick procedure and you won't feel anything. He's been doing this for years."

"I know Dr. Putnum," I explain, "I saw him last year for an enlarged prostate. I guess he already poked me from behind, now he wants to go in the front. And he isn't even buying me dinner!"

Everyone laughs. Inside, I cry.

That being said, I'm sure it won't be as horrible as it sounds. And if I really want to look on the bright side, how many guys can say they've had this charming experience done? (How many guys would want to? :: shiver :: )

Overall, words cannot explain how good I feel. I am happy, healthy and horny. I am a new man who is no longer diabetic. I finally got my hair cut today and I went to the grocery store with Chris and bought some good food for dinner. I made a new fall mix-mp3-CD for my car, and I am excited to be able to go out into the world again, although at a slow pace.

If all goes well, I should be back to work on October 11th, but I won't make any promises until I really start to feel 100% recovered again. I am close, but I am still a wee bit tender.

But don't worry, I'll let you know how the stent removal goes.

HOME

I am home.

Leaving the hospital was exciting! My white blood cell count wasn't where it needed to be, but it appeared to be slowly coming down so the docs made a decision to let me go early because I had no symptoms of infection and I wasn't really gaining anything by staying in the hospital.

The drive home was fantastic! Being outside in the warm cool breeze was stimulating beyond words. It was as though I were experiencing the world for the very first time.

Chris stopped at Target to snag a few things while I waited in the car. I can't drive a car or go to the store or any public enclosed space (like a movie theater) for a couple of months, but that's OK. Coming home was amazing. My dog, Moses, flipped out and I played with him for almost an hour.

I've been home for a couple of days now, and it's awesome! I've done a few things around the house that needed to be done, like changing some light bulbs, sorting through the newspapers Chris had saved for me, going through the mail, and more importantly, I cleaned out the section of our pantry where I stored all of my insulin pump supplies, all of my blood glucose test strips, and everything else related to diabetes. More than likely, I will give everything to my endocrinologist so she can distribute them to her patients. Why not? I won't be needing them anymore.

It feels incredible to not be diabetic. I really thought there would be a period of getting used to it, but it seemed to take right away. I don't think about insulin or carbs when I eat. I just eat. I'm still checking my blood sugar regularly, and I probably will for a few months, but it's just to make sure my pancreas is working.

Chris drove me to the hospital this morning so they could draw some blood. We have to do that 3 times a week for the first 2 weeks. Then twice a week for a couple more weeks, then once a week, then once a month, until eventually I will only go in 3 times a year. It's all to monitor how well the transplant is working and to adjust medication as needed.

Stephanie, my transplant coordinator, just called me with today's blood work results. My white blood cell count is still dropping. It's down to 11, which is nearly normal. So whatever infection I might have had is almost gone. ROCK N ROLL !!

I also have to attend clinic sessions at the hospital every week. Basically, Stephanie will talk with me about my numbers, meds, etc. and I'll see surgeons and doctors who are monitoring my process. I cannot do any exercise except for short walks until they tell me I can do more. They will also let me know when I can go back to work, which at this point might not be until the end of October. It's OK, I am resting and eating healthy, and enjoying my brand new life at home. Just gotta take it easy for awhile and ease back into a normal routine. Once it happens, I know it will be amazing.

This is all very cool. Very, very cool!

Waiting

Dr. Fujita met with me again yesterday morning. He joked and said, "Maybe I will stop checking your blood and just send you home!" We both laughed and I said, "I am ready to go home as soon as you give me the OK." He said they will monitor me again for the next 24 hours. If my white blood cell count gets below 10, they will send me home. As of yesterday morning, it was 15.

Throughout the day, I received a few heavy doses of the tough antibiotics. One of the docs came in to see me and said that if for some reason my white blood cell count doesn't go down, they will probably give me another CT scan to see if anything new shows up, but if it goes down I will probably go home tomorrow.

The surgical team came in later and I was told this was not uncommon with pancreas transplants. Sometimes the new pancreas just has some funk around it that needs to be washed away with antibiotics.They also said I should be going home tomorrow. I'll believe it when it happens...

It's weird, because all of the Aides and Nurses on the floor keep asking me why I am still here. Some co-workers visited me last night and they were even a little shocked to see how good I look and feel. Aside from the white blood cells, I should have gone home last Friday.



My blood was drawn less than an hour ago. My nurse said she will let me know as soon as the numbers are up.

They're up!

And... my white blood cells have only gone down a little bit. 14.6 ... I don't think I'm going home today.



But what do I know? The surgical team came in and told me I am going home this afternoon!! I am so excited!! They are going to put me on some antibiotics to take at home, and they told me to call them if anything changes- pain, fever, chills, etc. You better believe I will. I can't wait to see my dog Moses again. I miss my little buddy so much!!

So, yeah. After 16 days in the hospital, I'm going home a new man.  =)

Ups and Downs

Yesterday, the surgeon who did my transplant, Dr. Fujita, came into my room. He told me that my white blood cell count had dropped a little bit. Nothing significant, but it was a small step in the right direction. He also asked me the standard questions about how I was feeling (Any pain? Fever? Chills? Trouble eating? Nausea? Am I passing gas? Bowel movements? etc.) I told him I felt great and was having no symptoms of infection.

He said although they found small pockets of fluid, after the transplant team looked at my CT Scan results, they weren't convinced any of the fluid was infected. So, we still don't know what is causing the rise in my white blood cell count.

Dr. Fujita explained they can do 1 of 2 things: 1.) Do nothing and see if the antibiotics work, or 2.) Open me back up and take a look inside.

I strongly urged option #1, which they decided to try.

When the surgical team came in about an hour later, they pulled up my CT Scan results on the computer in my room. I had the chance to see all of my inner organs in black and white. WOW! It was pretty cool. One of the docs joked with me and said, "This is very introspective." To which I laughed and said, "Yes, VERY!"

The decision was to keep me in the hospital one or two more days, draw my blood again that night and see if the antibiotic was working. It sounded great to me, but after they drew my blood last night, my white blood cell count was significantly higher than it had been.

It was disappointing, but I believe the surgeons had something in mind in case this happened. My night nurse phoned the on call transplant doc, who happened to be the one joking with me earlier about "introspection," and he suggested giving me a heavy-duty antibiotic to see if a stronger dose of meds would do the trick.

They did!

I was just informed that my white blood count took a good-sized nosedive. It's still a little higher than it was yesterday morning, but it's down from the high number of the blood draw last night. This is a very good sign. So in a few hours, the surgical team will come in again and let me know the plan. I have no idea if they are going to open me back up, or monitor me again with this heavy duty antibiotic. Who knows? All I know is everyone keeps commenting on how great all of my other numbers are and how good I look and sound despite this annoying white blood cell count.

I have patience. Of course, I am more than eager to go home, but I want to go home in good shape. So I can wait. I know I am in good hands because everybody here at the IMC Hospital is fantastic!

We just have to wait and see what's going on with those pesky white blood cells.