I should mention before I go any further, that my wife (Lita) wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of me doing this. She is so worried about me and something happening to me. Lita just loves my family, so that wasn’t the problem, it was just the thought of something ‘could’ happen during and/or after the operation. I’ll be the first to say that I let my wife be the boss in our family. I let her get away with lots of things and normally only answer, “Yes Dear”, but in cases of things that I really mean, I put my foot down. This was one of those cases. She could see that I had that determination in my eyes, and being the good wife she is, she support me the rest of the way.
Okay, so it’s time for the tests. There are 6 areas that my sister and I have to make an attempt to match on. We have to match a minimum of 3 or we are not compatible and the transplant can not be done. I don’t know all the tests, but they are pretty much identified in the above link. I’m sure there were blood tests and all kinds of other tests, but the one I remember the most was the urine test. Normally this is not a problem, you just get a cup go to the restroom and take care of business. Well this one did start out that way, but with a twist.
This first test was to determine how much water I was to drink before my next urine test, the same day. I guess it was depending in the color of the urine, it’s suppose to be clear in a healthy body, not yellow. The doctor said that depending on the results, I had to drink between 2 and 6-8 ounce glasses of water before the next test. Well back then I wasn’t a big ‘drink a lot of water’ person so I just knew that the results would come back that I needed all 6 glasses, and I was right. Okay, drinking 48 ounces of water is not a big deal, except if you have to do it until your urine is clear. I had to drink 192 ounces of water before the doctors were satisfied. That’s 4 different tests. Now you see why this is the one test I really remember.
Of the 6 things we had to match at least 3 on, we matched all 6, plus we had the same blood type. The doctor called it a perfect match. Which is what I’ve been telling my sister this whole time, don’t worry, we’ll match.
All these things are happening very fast. I mean me offering to donate a kidney, the doctor visits, the test and the paperwork. It’s actually moving much faster than these things normally transpire. By the beginning of March 1995 we were ready to do the operation. That’s when we ran into a little problem. When I showed up at the hospital, I had a fever and they would not do the operation if I was sick. I was perfectly willing to go through with it, because I’m so worried about my sister. Lita, who, as I mentioned, is worried about me, tells me to reschedule, there is no way I’m doing it if the doctor says I shouldn’t be. I see the logic and reschedule, but I worry about my sister almost the whole time.
Finally the new operation day rolls around. We go back to Baylor Medical Center and this time all systems are go. My brother-in-law’s insurance is good enough that I can get a semi-private room. It turned out pretty good because no one else ever showed up in the only other bed in the room. I was told that even though it is semi-private, they try not to put anyone else in the rooms unless all the other semi-private rooms are filled. So I’m laying in this nice bed, I’ve got an IV in my arm, my wife sitting next to me and I’m hungry. I can’t eat though. The nurse comes in and tells me that she is going to give me a shot, then later she will be in to give me the shot to knock me out for the operation. She lied. That’s the last thing I remember before she put me to sleep. The shot she was giving me then, was the one that knocked me out.
Next thing I know, I’m waking up and my side is killing me. My wife is sitting next to the bed in a chair that she probably has been sitting in for a couple of hours. I look down at my left side where the pain is coming from and there are about a couple dozen staples in me. I still have an IV in me, I’m still hungry and I still can’t eat. The nurse tells me if I want to eat something beside soup and jello, I have to get up and walk around. Hell, I can hardly move and she wants me to walk. I could see that I had an uphill battle to accomplish.