Day 47. Still no sign of land.

Hey-o. blog nerds. It's Alan again, which is probably obvious, since Sue is far to nice to ever call her friends 'blog nerds.' We're out of the hospital and in the hotel. And by in the hotel, i mean ALL-in. Sue hasn't left the room since Friday, other than to wander up and down the hallways like a cupcake-pajama wearing extra in The Shining.

So far, the weekend has entailed sleep, sleep, more sleep, waking up to take pain meds, eating a couple of crackers, and then going back to sleep. Seriously, i've never seen sue sleep this much ever. But on the plus side, all that log-sawing is doing a world of good. Each day is better than the last, and this afternoon has been spent lying on the bed, reading the paper, doing crosswords, and swearing at our various fantasy football teams.

Sue is hoping to get out and about sometime tomorrow -- maybe for a last Minnesota meal at Campus Pizza down the street. Then it's onto the airport Tuesday afternoon, which is going to be all sorts of interesting:

Security: Ma'am, i need to do a pat-down.
Sue: Oh Christ, no.
Security: Please raise your arms and--
Sue: If you touch me, i will kill you to death. ...Seriously.

So if we end up arrested for airport terrorism, at least you know what happened.

Transplant complete!

The kidney is out. Wooo!  Unfortunately, that means Sue is lying in bed doped up on Percocet, so this blog entry is being brought to you by her husband, Al.

The surgery went as well as could be expected. Into the hospital at 5:30, change into a gown with no ass, then get wheeled off to an operating room. (i was surprised to see that the gowns still hang open at the butt. Really, modern medicine? You can replace an organ but you can't sew a thirty cent robe? But i digress.) After that, it was three hours of nervously pacing around a waiting room (me) or lying passed out on a table while strangers loot your internal organs (Sue). After that, she was wheeled into a room and i was allowed to join her.

Good points of the week so far:

1) Everyone is alive and well, and Logan seems to be taking the kidney well.
2) The room is a single, so i was able to stay with her
3) There's a lot of football on today, so we're able to keep ourselves distracted.
4) The staff is friendly and supremely competent.

Lousy points of the week:

1) Surgery hurts. A lot. Sue is as tough as they come, so when she winces, i know it's no joke. She's bearing up remarkably well, but it's still hard to see.
2) Hospitals are noisy. Lots of beeping and clicking and general mechanical sounds, all interspersed with some lady down the hall who can't stop moaning and yelling the phrase "No one is going to touch my butt!" ...We didn't ask.
3) They brought me a chair that folds out, but i was too dumb to fold it out, and spent the night sleeping in this weird pretzel shape.
4) Said sleep was fitful at best for both of us, mostly because people keep coming in every hour or so to inject drugs, draw blood, replace IVs, and do other medical stuff. All important, of course, but distracting.

So...yeah. There ya go. Hopefully Sue will feel more perky in the next few days and provide an update from her own fingers. Thanks to all for the letters, texts, emails, and other general messages of support. It's been nice.

It's the left one

Heard today that the left kidney's the one to go. Will have three incisions, one 3-inch vertical and two small horizontal. Good thing I wore my baggy pants.

Another good thing? That we left Seattle when we did, before snowpocalypse 2010.

Off for Round 2

This will be the final round.  That kidney is goin' down in two days.

It's snowing here in Seattle, which is pretty, but hopefully won't make everyone lose their minds as we try to get to the airport.

Kidney a No Go

...or should we use "Kidney a No No"?  Hm.  Can't decide.  Let's hope this is the last time I'll need to use it.

Back home in Seattle after a whirlwind 48-hour trip.  Here's a synopsis:
1.  Get up at 4:30, leave for the airport at 5:10, wait 1/2 hour to check our goddamn bag, wait another 1/2 hour in goddamn security line, get to the goddamn gate during the "board all passengers" period.  Stress!!
2.  Fly to MSP, check in to hotel, feel paranoia increase about getting sick, stay in slightly scary hotel room from 2pm-on watching sitcom reruns and eating Chinese takeout.
3.  Get up at 6:15 to get to U of M Hospital, have 1,534 vials of blood drawn, get chest x-ray, EKG, and then find out that the transplant can't occur on this day.
4.  Feel immense disappointment for just a few seconds, get visits from about 18 doctors to explain the situation, feel awful for my sister who is beside herself, then get into heavy problem-solving mode with Al.
5.  Within one hour of #4, book a new flight out, cancel our hotel, rebook Miso's boarding, book a new surgery date (11/24), book a new flight for the surgery week, book a new hotel for surgery week, call or e-mail everyone who might be interested in developments.
6.  Go to airport and have 4 vodka tonics, get on plane, fly home.
7.  Contact our transplant coordinator to ask for a new medical explanation letter for work, contact HR and my manager to figure out how to move my short-term disability time period.

We're exhausted.

Anyway, transplant rescheduled for 11/24 (yep, day before Thanksgiving).  It will work this time.  If it doesn't, can we borrow 5 bucks?

Less than a week to go

I'm getting anxious.  I'm sure everything will be fine, but having never had surgery I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment.  I'm also desperately trying to avoid getting sick, which is silly, because I NEVER get sick.  But now that I'm so paranoid about it I almost feel like I'm going to make it happen.  I'm also drinking Airborne for the first time in my life (and it's absolutely vile) in my desperate attempt to not get sick.

Obsession is never good, no matter what it's about.  But do you know what IS good?  Beards!  Big, Jim James-type beards!  Got a beard-growing contest going on at work, and can't wait to return in December to see the guys.  We're calling it "No-Shave November".

I've also accumulated a large pile of chocolate from my friends and coworkers that I will be nursing throughout November.  Thanks, friends, for taking care of me.