My FIRST Liver-Versary!!

1 year.

12 months.

52 weeks.

365 days.

How do you define a year?

If we're talking about the year I've just had, I would define it like this....

2 lives.

1 loss.

1 gift.

6 hospitalizations.

2 rejection episodes.

1 ambulance ride.

2 ER visits.

7 ultrasounds.

2 paracentesis.

3 liver biopsies.

3 endoscopies.

10 CT scans.

1 picc line.

5 drains.

Countless IVs.

Hundreds of blood draws.

Endless pills.

1 beautiful scar.

Enough tears to fill the ocean.

Millions of prayers.

1 very full and happy life.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you probably know that for the past year my life has quite literally revolved around the condition and well being of my new liver.  In fact, you may have even become annoyed by my frequent posts and deep passion for the importance of organ donation and perhaps you were turned off by my openness about every last detail of my journey.  I make no apologies for that.  This is important to me.  I will continue to voice my passion and tell my story until there is no life left in this frail and worn out body of mine.  When something is important to you, you tend to talk about it a lot.  This journey is important to me so I will continue to talk about it and in doing so will continue to give ALL glory and honor and praise to the one who spoke my very life into existence 32 years ago, Jesus Christ.  The Bible says that our lives are but a vapor, here one moment and gone the next.  At any moment He could have taken me to my eternal home in Heaven but for some reason He was not finished with me yet.  He has more He wants me to do.  I truly do not believe He would have taken me on this wild and crazy journey if He did not want me to make something of it.  To make something of HIM.  So, here I sit behind my laptop with weary eyes and a full heart well after midnight on the first anniversary of the day I received the gift of life to tell you THIS: God's almighty power is real and amazing and overwhelming.  It has left me awestruck and speechless and humbled.  I'm here to tell you that the power of prayer is a force to be reckoned with and there is not a single person in this world who will ever convince me otherwise.  God hears the prayers of His people and He is faithful to answer them in His time and in His way.  If you've ever doubted that, then please let me spend a few minutes telling you my story.  God is such a God of details and that's what I love most about Him because in case you didn't know, I'm a lover of details as well.  But this isn't about me.  It's about how He has taken a broken, weary, imperfect, unworthy vessel like this one and used it to show His faithfulness and His great mercy.  So you see, this is about so much more than just organ donation.  It's about Jesus, the very giver of life!  

I've been celebrating on the 16th of every month as it slowly came and went over the past 12 months.  I saw each month that passed as one step closer to to a year, which was one step closer to a normal, healthy life.  Though some months were harder than others, I kept my eyes on the prize which was September.  I saw the past year as a race and September marked my finish line.  I definitely had a few stumbles but I never stopped running.  I may have even walked or been dragged some of the way, but even still my race kept moving!  As I rounded the corner into September I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing I had almost made it.  I could hardly sleep last night as I went to bed knowing that I would wake up with September 16th, 2015 to greet me.  

As if I could ever forget, I can always count on my Timehop app to remind me of exactly what I was doing on September 16th, 2014

I cried silent tears of thankfulness as I washed my hair this morning, preparing for a day spent at Vanderbilt for my one year check up.  I knew that one year ago at that very moment my lifeless body was laying on a cold, hard operating table under bright lights, spread wide open with two capable men literally holding my life in their hands.  The thought was overwhelming to me.  As I thought about what must have taken place in that operating room one year ago, I looked down to admire my beautiful scar which will forever serve as a reminder of my precious gift.  I ran my hand across my belly and recalled the feel of the 33 staples that once adorned my abdomen like a zipper from top to bottom, side to side.  I took note of the small white scars where drains and tubes once protruded from my swollen belly.  Then, as always, I thought of my donor.  I thought of their family and wondered what they must be feeling today as they reflected back on this day one year ago.  Even after all this time it's hard to keep from crying when I think of the unimaginable grief that they must have suffered in the midst of my unexplainable joy.  I can think of few other circumstances in life where these two emotions can simultaneously take place.  

My silent tears were quickly turned into laughter as I received a sweet video text from my BFF Glory who lives in Texas.  She sang happy birthday to Grace the liver and told me how proud she was of me.  Then she threatened me and told me I better not show that video to anyone, ever!  I love my Glory.

We had a busy day ahead and for someone who is not a morning person I was surprisingly chipper and alert this morning.  It kind of felt like Christmas morning!  Weird?  Maybe.....But I don't care!  I had waited a very long time to see this day come and I was ready to celebrate!

I enlisted the help of a local cookie expert to make these AMAZING treats which I took with me to Vanderbilt to be passed out among my doctors and nurses in honor of Grace's liver-versary.

A little surprise was in the box for me!  

3 dozen cookies, wrapped and ready to be passed out to my people!

My appointment at Vanderbilt was at 10:15 but we had a two hour drive to get there.  Matthew and I reflected on what was happening hour by hour on the day of my transplant.  I obviously don't remember much but he reminded me that 10:15 was the exact time that I came out of surgery.  I had gone in at 4:00 a.m. and Dr. Gorden called Matthew to the conference room around 10:15 to give him a final report.  Maybe it's silly but I saw this as yet another one of the ways God shows me that He's into the details!  

It was SO good to see Dr. Gorden and his sweet nurses again!  My last clinic visit with them was at my 3 month mark which was in December.  At that time I still wasn't feeling my greatest and didn't exactly want to be there.  This time was so much different.  I was so thankful to be there celebrating one year.  As I told Dr. Gorden, in some ways it feels like just yesterday because the emotions and the memories are still so real and so raw.  In other ways it seems like a lifetime ago because there have been so many obstacles to get to this point.  The appointment went well and I got a glowing report and as usual, Kyndall entertained everyone with her witty attitude and charming personality.  He answered all of my questions including everything from having more babies to going back to work as a hygienist.  He told me that both were perfectly safe but to hold off just a bit longer on the babies.  That wasn't exactly the news I wanted to hear, but thankfully I had already taken that initial blow last week when I discussed this with my other doctor.  More on that later.  I'm not letting a little bit of disappointing news steal the joy from this blog post!

This guy right here is the bee's knees.  He is (one of) my heroes.  He is unbelievably smart yet incredibly kind and compassionate.  God has gifted him with the amazing ability to save lives yet he remains humble and meek.  This is the man who laid eyes on my precious donor in their final moments, carefully retrieved my gift and then placed that gift perfectly inside of me and watched as new life entered my body.  I stand amazed.  What must his life be like to witness and take part in such miraculous happenings each and every day??

Our next stop was the 7th floor of the critical care tower--the transplant floor.  Or, as I like to call it, my second home at Vandyland.  The nurses on this floor have seen more of me than they ever cared to and have tenderly and lovingly met my every need that I had with so much compassion.  They have kept my spirits up with small talk about kids and family and hobbies and pets.  They have fetched ice chips and chocolate milk and pain pills and extra blankets for this suddenly cold natured patient.  They've done their best to give my sweet husband a comfortable place to sleep as he sat with me for days on end.  They've bent the occupancy rules and retrieved lost visitors who were desperately trying to make their way to my room.  They have shown me mercy when I couldn't handle even one more needle stick or one more blown IV site.  They've cleaned up my blood and my vomit and probably my pee.  They've helped wash my hair and dried my tears.  Simply put, these ladies (and men) are the unsung heroes.  They are the ones who have cared for me day in and day out, 12 hours at a time.  In the wake of all this nurse vs. doctor controversy, I'd just like to say without hesitation that in my eyes, taking care of a patient is a team effort.  Everyone at Vanderbilt has worked tirelessly to ensure I received the best care possible, from the nurses to the doctors to the janitors to the food service ladies to the valet parking guys!  They all do their part and they do it well.  Rant over.  Bottom line, I love me some nurses....especially the ones on the 7th floor!

I made a bee line to find Chelsey, who is one of my very favs!

Kyndall was so excited to pass out the cookies to every nurse and and resident we encountered.  She handed them each a cookie and proudly announced "it's Mommy's liver's birthday so you get a cookie!"  Word of the cute little girl passing out cookies must have traveled fast because before I knew it I had quite a crowd gathered around all hoping for one of these beautiful cookies!  I have quickly learned that the way to a nurse's heart is through the gift of FOOD!  They don't get it very often and when they do they surely appreciate it!  

As has become tradition each time we visit, we had to take a picture in my favorite spot.  This time it was a family affair and we just had ourselves a little liver-lovin' birthday photo shoot right there in the foyer of the transplant floor!  

Representing ONE YEAR!

What a difference a year makes!!

Our next stop was to the cafeteria so that Kyndall could get a snack.  We had some time to kill and she wanted a Sprite.  So, off we went.  As I sat people watching in the bustling, crowded cafeteria of the hospital, I looked over and noticed a man wearing the most awesome shirt I've ever seen.  If I could, I'd buy up a whole bunch and pass them out as incentives for y'all to sign the donor registry!  I mean, wouldn't you want a shirt like this??

(You know I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to find out more about this shirt and why he wears it.  Turns out he works on the cardiac floor and he said he gets lots of compliments when he wears this!)

Again, another small detail from God.  This one simply because I needed a smile.

I wanted to see what my former home looked like one year later, so Matthew drove me across the street to the Village at Vanderbilt which is where my Mom and I lived for over a month following my transplant.  That tiny one bedroom apartment holds so many memories and so many emotions.  I'm not sure I could actually walk back in there without feeling as though I was in a time warp.  Seeing it from the outside was enough for me!

She's still standing, good ole apartment 125!  (Side note--That empty parking spot where I'm standing is where my Mom parked her car every single day.  This time last year walking from that parking spot into the gate behind me and through the door of my temporary home was nearly more than I could handle.  Such a simple task that I now take for granted.  I was in so much pain and so weak that just walking this small distance was a major chore for me.  And see those hands stretched way above my head?  It was moths before I was able to do that following my surgery.  I walked hunched over, cautiously guarding my tender belly from any unnecessary twists, turns or movements.  To God be the glory for the great--even SMALL--things He has done!!)

Next was my least favorite part of the day.  I had to have a CT scan done, just to make sure everything is still functioning like it should.  Normally this is no big deal but today was kind of traumatic.  One would think that after living through pure hell the past year, not to mention having a few major organs taken from one's body that getting an IV started would be small potatoes.  Yes, one would think.  However, this alone can throw me into a sheer panic attack complete with crazy antics such as passing out, hyperventilating and the like.  Yes, I'm THAT patient.  Call me a wimp, I don't care.  The thought of someone fishing around inside of my veins with a needle is purely nauseating to me.  Put me to sleep and slice my belly and I'll be fine.  Give me a nap and shove a breathing tube and a scope down my throat, Whatever.  But come at me with more than one attempt at an IV stick and you've got a crazy woman on your hands.  Today I got stuck not once, not twice, not even THREE times.  FOUR TIMES.  The poor radiology tech was sweating as much as I was by the time it was over and was pretty close to calling the whole thing off.  My veins are just so scarred up from all of the pokes that there's not much left to work with so I know it wasn't her fault.  The IV finally cooperated and the contrast was shot through my body (weirdest feeling ever) and the scan was done.  Piece of cake.  HA!  

Matthew and Kyndall waited patiently in the lobby while my arms were hacked on and my abdomen was zapped....

Because of the CT scan, I was not allowed to eat since the night prior.  It was 2:30 by the time I walked out of my scan and home girl was HANGRY!  So our final stop was for a very late lunch / very early dinner on our way out of Nashville.  As I stuffed my face with delicious food I was reminded once again of how far I've come.  For many months following transplant it was extremely difficult for me to even manage the simple task of eating.  Sitting upright at the table took all the strength I had and each bite was so incredibly painful as it went down.  My, how things have changed!  If only that pain and lack of appetite would come back.....just kidding.....maybe.

I enjoyed reading texts and Facebook messages on the way home wishing me well on my first ever liver-versary.  "Happy birthday Grace" was a common theme, which I love!!  Many of you suggested that I get an Icee to celebrate and so I took you up on your idea!  Since Icees are my all time favorite treat (and my greatest addiction), it only seemed fitting to have one on this day.  I can remember getting encouraging pictures from friends and family drinking Icees in my honor during my road to recovery.  It always made me smile to know that others had come to love this simple pleasure as much as I do!  

Cheers to Grace!

One of the best parts of my day was getting notified that my story had been featured on social media by "The Waiting List".  The Waiting List is a non profit organization dedicated to bringing awareness to the importance of organ donation.  Each day they share a new story on Facebook and Instagram and I always love reading these testimonies of hope.  I was so surprised when I scrolled through my newsfeed and saw my own picture pop up!  If you're not already following The Waiting List and you want to be encouraged, humbled or reminded of your priorities on a daily basis then I suggest you follow them.  It seems like their posts always appear when I'm in my worst mood, having my worst moment of the day.  As I read these incredible stories I am reminded to take my own advice to appreciate the little things and not to sweat the small stuff.  Life is so much bigger.

A few hours later the people at The Waiting List sent me a message asking me how my first liver-versary was going and inquiring about how I spent the day.  I told them all that I had done and a little bit later on they sent me this e-mail telling me how many people my post had already reached.  WOW.  

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The next thing I knew, yet another familiar picture was appearing in my newsfeeds on social media.  This time it was of my cookies!

And, remember how she said she had seen someone post a picture of my cookies earlier in the day? She later tagged me in that picture and although I have no idea who this person is apparently she really appreciated the cookies that I passed out to her today!  What a small world!  Now tell me God isn't a God of details!!  

I spent the eve of my liver-versary reflecting back on the day I received my call.  On September 15th I received my third and final call for transplant.  I remember exactly where I was, what I was doing and even what I was wearing.  Details.  I love details.  Anyway, as I was reflecting on the 15th, my cousin Jennifer sent me a message telling me about a little girl in Alabama named Ansley who had just received her call for liver transplant and was on her way to the Children's hospital in Birmingham.  Immediately I began praying for this sweet girl and her family, recounting all of the exact emotions I felt on that same day one year prior.  I found a prayer page for her on Facebook and quickly asked permission to join it.  Her mother accepted me and I explained that I was a friend of a friend with a very common bond.  I committed to pray for her as they awaited news of the condition of the liver.  Late last night Ansley's mom let me know that the liver was perfect and the transplant would take place sometime in the wee hours of the morning of the 16th!!  Ansley and I would share a liver-versary!  As if that wasn't enough, she then let me know that the tentative time for surgery was 4:00 a.m.  That is exactly the time that I said my goodbyes to Matthew on that very same day one year ago.  AMAZING.  Again he reminds me of His faithfulness in His attention to details.  He knows I will notice them, even when nobody else will.  And in noticing them I will be reassured and comforted.  Thank you, Jesus for knowing me and loving me so well.

Take note of the details.....

Here's a picture that Matthew took just after they rolled me into the OR....

By the way, sweet Ansley came through surgery remarkably well and is doing great so far!  I find it reassuring that in each of her Mom's posts she mentions their sadness for the donor's family.  As I said, even a year later this is still such a struggle for me.  

I wrote my donor's family again last week.  I was told that there is a chance my first letter was never delivered which is frustrating but also a little bit exciting.  Maybe that's the reason I haven't received a response.  Who knows?  I am trying really hard not to get my hopes up but who am I kidding?  My hopes have been up for an entire year now.  I don't think I will ever stop wrestling with these tangled feelings of sadness, guilt, remorse and joy.  

One year.  What a year it has been.  As I search to find my "new normal" and find my purpose in all of this I can't help but be grateful for all of the love, support and encouragement I have received from those of you who care about me.  You have ridden this roller coaster with me and have been there to cheer me on in my race to the finish.  You have sent countless cards and texts and gifts and made visits and cooked meals and babysat my child and taken care of my dogs and listened to me cry and celebrated my small victories and allowed me to live this thing out loud.  Most of all, you have shown me the power of prayer.  You've prayed me through and sustained me with your sincere concerns.  Thank you for celebrating this day right along with me.  I know every year won't call for quite this much of a celebration but on this first anniversary I felt it was well earned.  I can honestly say that there were MANY moments when I doubted I would ever be around to see it happen.

As I begin the next year of this journey I'm on, I can only hope that 365 days from now I will describe it with two simple words....

Grace abounds.