The cleanup

It's been a long long time since I've felt capable enough to write here. So much has happened; in one sense, it feels like forever has passed since we were at transplant - in another, it feels like it happened yesterday. I have been through a whirlwind of emotions and just have not felt up to reliving it all.

After the transplant, Dad stayed in ICU for a week. It's not normal to stay in for that long, but they were very worried about his kidneys. But, they picked up and he was moved to the ward. He stayed in the ward for another week and was due to go home. On the day he was supposed to go home, he had a seizure, so he had to go downstairs to neurology for a few days before going back up to ward 8 before coming home a week later than planned.

Since then; physically, he's been coming ahead in leaps and bounds. Honestly, it's scary to think that 9 weeks ago we were seriously looking at life without him; then 9 weeks later have him back at work wanting to know what's going on. The transplant team are absolutely gobsmacked and he is trudging along in leaps and bounds.

Things they don't tell you so much about;
1. When they tell you that the medication can make you a bit hostile - do not believe them.
This week has been the first week since transplant where I have seen remanents of my
father.

He was so....angry? with the world after transplant. He got out on the Thursday and bought a car on Saturday (do NOT ask) and was livid because we dare ask if it could wait a week. I mean not just agro, but seriously livid I was called all sorts of names and spat at because I dare ask why he needed 8 smoke detectors in his house. And after everything we had been through both with and for him; I snapped. There was my threshold.

Since the 'smoke detector' incident, I have stayed away from all of my family. I felt as though mum was 'feeding' the behaviour by smiling and nodding; and I felt as though my sister was only 'supporting' him because she knew what side of the bread was buttered on. There was no way known I was going to smile and nod through that; and I just did not care how sick he was. I took the kids, my husband and myself; and locked up in our house.

I was very much 'after everything we have been through; this is the father that we end up with'; and if I'm truly honest, I did wonder whether it was a waste of an organ. My father was more worried about his car, or getting some stupid block of land in Nagambie; than realising that he has been given a second chance at life.

The drugs he was on have been reduced already - which is where we're starting to see the remenants of the man we tried to save come back. But, because we've had such a long time with 'encephalopathy dad' for so long; that I had started to forget who dad was.

At the moment, our extremely close, talking every day family, has been fractured. It's not broken, there's no heartbreak or anger or tears. When I stepped back from everyone earlier, I felt as though it was the right thing. And not talking to my sister for 3 weeks is less 'what are you fighting about' - and more normal.

I said to a girlfriend that I am feeling as though all my thoughts & feelings have been tipped around like a snow globe. And that everything, whilst it is all still there, has fallen in different places. And whilst it's different - I feel as though it's a good different.

But can I say that I'd do it again to get here? Nup. Not yet anyway.

The transplant we never thought we'd have.

Well, here we are on the other side of the fence. I never in a thousand years expected to end up here.

We got to the hospital at 5am to see dad off and we all howled. The three of us didn't expect to see him again because he was so sick. At that point, we didn't know it was going ahead; they prepare for surgery just in case because of the time factor. The other half of the team were checking out the donor liver for compatibility, so this could all have still been rewound and back up to the ward.

We said goodbye @ 7am and the transplant co-ordinator (Kate) said that we'd know by 8.30ish whether the surgery was a go or not. We hung around the hospital with the social worker for half an hour; then went back to mums to wait.

Sure enough; 8.30 rolls around and it's batter up. He's in. From that point, I could not have possibily sat around waiting for news, so I left mum and J to it and went into work. Brain was completely fried, but it was better than doing nothing.

Every couple of hours we received updates. 'Liver has been disconnected/new liver connected but not running/liver up and running/liver put into his body/stitched up' All of a sudden it was 4pm and we were asked to meet the surgeons at ICU.

'The operation went exceptionally well' we are told. There were still issues with the kidneys; whether the 'old rattlers' would hold up after they threw a wobbly. All the organs were expected to throw a tanty; but whether the kidneys threw their final wobbly was the worry. They couldn't 'kick start' it this time; the liver was far too new to be pulling blood from, so the plan was to go straight to dialysis and get a kidney transplant.

That was Thursday.

We're now at Sunday and things are still looking really good. I still can't get my head around actually being here; whilst we have had positive news thus far, we are still concerned about the kidneys; but the longer they remain working, the more likely they are to remain working.

So, we wait for him to get back up to the ward and then home - then we attempt to pack up what is left of our lives and move on with it.

It has only been the last week that I have really seen just how tattered it all is. I hope I can put some of it back together.