For the past week, that has been the name that I have gone
by. All of the paperwork I’ve signed, all of my hospital bands, and anything
else associated with my procedure has contained that name. The other day when I
was first posting about my journey, I thought it was going to be a simple
journey that was quick and painless (or at least somewhat painless). I had no idea that it would turn into what it
became, but through this experience, I have been more blessed that I ever
thought was possible. And so the journey begins…
On Tuesday, my parents and I drove to meet with
the doctors and surgeons and sign the consent forms saying that I knew what was
going to happen and that they had my permission to perform the surgery. Let me
just be honest here. This was the scariest thing I think I’ve ever done in my
life (and this is BEFORE the procedure happened). As the surgeon began
explaining the procedure, I felt a lump in my throat and could barely swallow.
I’m not going to lie; there were several times when I had to turn my head just
so the tears wouldn’t roll down my cheeks. I didn’t know what I had signed myself
up for. There was a moment while sitting there that I just wanted to back out. Later, I prayed that God would erase those doubts and that I would stop
having selfish feelings. I know that it’s human of us to have those feelings,
but I felt like they were getting in the way of me fully relying on God. He
promised me that He would be with me; He was going to be holding my hand the
whole time… I just had to breathe and trust in Him. Even through my prayers, I still admit that I was afraid. You want to know the truth?
That was tough for me on Wednesday morning.
After spending the evening with my parents and my two aunts,
the next morning I arrived at the hospital at 6am to begin the procedure. I had
several friends who came to the hospital and waited until my surgery was over.
When I went to the back to get ready for anesthesia, I prayed, “Please God,
don’t let me remember any of this.” I just wanted to wake up and it be over
with. It seemed like most of the day had passed, when only I had been in the
back being prepped for surgery for maybe an hour. I’ll admit, there were tears
and once I even told my mom, “I don’t think I want to do this anymore.” But in the
midst of those moments, God kept putting the recipient in my mind. Y’all, I
don’t even know this girl and God continues to enable me to love her more and more
every minute. It’s cool how He works like that isn't it? The anesthesiologist told me,
“once we get you in the back, we’ll give you some medicine and have you count
backwards from 10… you look pretty alert right now so you might make it to 7.”
You want to know what I made it to? Haha, honestly, I don’t even remember her
moving me into the room to get that medicine. She didn’t have to have me count
backwards from 10 because the first dose of medicine put me right to sleep.
Remember how I prayed that God would keep me from remembering all of that scary
stuff? Well, He did and for that I’m grateful.
Around 10am, I could hear a lot of machines beeping, feet
shuffling and people mumbling and I finally realized that I was finished with
the procedure. I opened my eyes to a nurse who apparently saw me fidgeting and
she told me that everything went great and that I could see my parents soon.
Because of the breathing tube they used during surgery, my throat was dry and
my voice was raspy and the anesthesia still hadn’t wore off, so I wasn’t
exactly myself for a few hours. My family was able to come back and see me as
well as some of my friends. It took a few hours, but they finally had a room
for me to move into. As they rolled my bed into the elevator, I could vaguely
hear, “what’s up chicken little?” and I saw Dalton (my boyfriend) round the
corner holding flowers in his hands. I know, too sweet. Once I made it into my
room, my friends and family checked on me and laughed at all of the random and
weird things I’m sure I said before the medicine wore off. It was difficult to
move and I could tell I was sore, but other than that, I had made it through
the surgery successfully.
That first night they had so much fluid going into my IV,
that I’m not even exaggerating when I say that I had to use the bathroom every
15 minutes. It was a constant struggle getting out of the bed, dragging my IV
machine (or whatever that thing is called) and then getting back into the bed
without hurting too much. I also had to wear these annoying blood pressure cuffs on my legs that they called "stockings." For the first few hours, they felt like they were massaging my legs, but after a whole night of wearing them, I was over it. Let me tell y'all though...my nurses were absolutely amazing. They continued to thank me for donating. I guess I didn’t understand how big of a
deal it was until I talked to them. They experience patients receiving
transplants all of the time and they see how hard those patients work to live
another day. One of my favorite nurses, Mrs. Rebecca, wrapped her arms around
me the first day and just thanked me for giving life to someone else. They were
amazed that I didn’t even know the patient. That was something that was hard
for me. Yeah, I don’t know the person who received my bone marrow, but to me
that was something that I had that someone else needed. It’s just the right
thing to do. It might have hurt me a little, but to think that she’s getting
something that she couldn’t live without makes it all worth it. So throughout
the week, I was reminded of that. My selfish fears almost stopped me from doing
something that ended up being a huge blessing in my life. And it wasn’t because
I did something great… that’s not it at all. It’s because God gave me a healthy
body and He gave me the responsibility of sharing something that someone else
needed. He gave me that responsibility. It was a choice but I had to make that
choice.
The next morning I was sure that I would be able to go home.
That was the plan from the beginning. I was moving around better and so I asked
my dad to walk around the hospital wing with me. I took my routine bathroom
break, unplugged my machine from the wall, and in my stylish hospital gown we
started to walk. In the hallway about 10 steps out the door, my doctor and
surgeon walked up to me and started talking to me about how everything went. In
the midst of them talking to me, suddenly their voices sounded muffled and I
went from looking into my doctor’s eyes to seeing nothing but black. Needless
to say, they weren’t letting me go home in that condition. You see, when they
did the procedure, they took a lot of bone marrow…1.3 liters of bone marrow to
be exact. My dad’s reaction: “that’s almost a 2 liter coke bottle!” That is
still a safe amount for them to take from me, but that’s still a lot. Here’s
where the blood transfusion comes in. I was told I had to stay another day and
night because my blood pressure was too low and when they tried to draw blood
for the lab, they couldn’t get any to come. I think I complained more to my mom
and dad about them poking me with needles than I complained about the four
holes in my back from the procedure. I knew it wasn’t safe to go home though,
so I stuck it out for another day and night.
On Thursday, my nurse and mom helped me shower and take off
my bandage (which my surgeon decorated and wrote, “B is for the best donor
ever…thank you!). Okay, truth time. I cried. I cried a lot. I saw the spots on
my hips where they had taken the marrow and saw the bruises and I cried. You can ask my mom...she saw a lot of tears this week. I didn’t want to have scars. I didn’t want to be
in pain. I was mad for a little bit and then just like always, God put that
15-year-old girl in my mind, and those four little holes and those bruises
didn’t matter. Even if I do have scars, they will just be reminders to me of how God
used me in that little girl’s life. Not for my glory or fame or praise… but for
His. God taught me a lot this week about pointing to Him in situations. He deserves the glory
and He will use every circumstance in our life to make His name known. Nothing about what I did this week or what I
went through is for me to be recognized. Y’all, I know I’m not perfect. I know
I’m not completely selfless. I know I’m not brave. I do know that God is
perfect. He is selfless. He is a servant. He is brave. I rested in that this
week.
Thursday came and went and I was stuck picking at the same
hospital food and doing the same routines over and over again. I knew exactly
when the nurses would come in to check my vitals and I knew when I would have
to get up to use the bathroom. My parents were getting tired and so was I. We
watched movies and talked and laughed with the nurses. We tried passing the
time many different ways. My blood pressure remained low, so the nurses
continued to give me fluids and check my vitals. We were hoping that Friday
would bring better news.
Friday morning came and my blood counts were still low. My
veins were tired of being poked at and my blood pressure wasn’t any higher so
the doctor ordered that I have a second blood transfusion. Let me just tell
y’all…those aren’t fun. It took several hours and the whole time my hand was
freezing and I had to keep it wrapped up in a towel or blanket. I started
moving around more and more and was able to get out of the bed completely on my
own, which was good for my mom and the nurses because as often as I was using
the bathroom, I needed to be able to do some things on my own. Mom helped me
wash my hair (which was much needed might I add). There were times when I felt
completely helpless because I was so sore or because of my IV, but my parents
were rock stars and were so willing to help me). Dalton visited for a few hours
while my parents went to the hotel to get showers and some fresh air. He helped
me dry my hair and walked around the hospital wing with me so I could stretch
my legs. He was already practicing his future PT skills by telling me to walk a
little quicker and lengthen my stride. He also brought yummy snacks like smoothies and coffee. He knows how to cheer me up. Later that afternoon when they checked
my vitals, my blood pressure had gone up! My parents and I were so excited and
we just knew that I would be heading home the next day. My mom and I stayed up
a little later than usual watching a few movies. I slept more throughout the
night hoping that the doctors would have good news when I woke up.
Saturday morning I woke up at 4am to the nurses doing their
daily blood work. Around 10:30am, my doctor came in and told me that my blood
counts were higher, my blood pressure was closer to normal and that I was good
to go home. I was seriously about to jump out of the bed. Around 12:45, I was
finally discharged as “donor donor,” and we were headed off of the Bone Marrow
Transplant floor. As I passed by the pictures of patients who had received
transplants, I thought of the little girl who received mine the other day. She has a lot more days in the hospital than I had to spend. She has a tough recovery ahead of her. That teenaged girl... I
have no idea who she is or where she is from. I don’t know what she likes to do
for fun. I don’t know what she likes to eat. I don’t know anything about her. I
don’t even know if she knows Christ as her Lord and Savior. I do know this. God
placed her in my life for a very special reason. He didn’t place her there for
my name to be known or for my “good deed” to make everyone say, “awe, how sweet
of her to do this.” He did it because His name will be glorified through all of this. Even
though I don’t know this girl, I know that she is in the hands of an almighty
God who is the ultimate healer, provider, comforter, and protector. I pray that
her transplant went smoothly. I pray that she recovers quickly and that she is
able to live a long and healthy life. I pray that she knows Jesus and I pray
that if she doesn’t, that she will come to know Him. That’s why as Christians
we do the things we do. I pray that the gospel goes forth because of this
opportunity. I know that it has changed me and blessed me than I ever thought
possible. I hope that one day I can meet her and get to know the 15-year-old girl who had such a huge impact in my life.
“And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the
name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” –Colossians
3:17
“And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart
and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The
second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other
commandment greater than these.”-Mark 12:30-31
