Wednesday, August 10, 2011

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This is Cindy, Peggy's YOUNGER sister!  I am helping her type this update, as she is not going to be typing on her own for a long while. 


My surgery today went about as well as could be expected, which was all I was asking for anyways.  We left for the land of miracles at 5:30 a.m., and how nice it was to have to wrap a Dillons bag around my cast so it wouldn't get wet.  Hutchinson was one of the areas in south central Kansas that received the gift of moisture, and I couldn't have been given a better send off than to leave in a downpour of rain.


The folks at the Kansas Orthopedic Center are among the best as far as I am concerned.  From the moment I walked in until the moment I left, I was given the best patient care I have ever received.  They definitely know their stuff.


As was expected, when they opened up my arm it did look like a bomb had gone off inside.  Everything was a mess and it took over an hour to insert the plates and screws that would help my arm remain in place while the healing begins.  They spent a great deal of time cleaning out debris from the original accident.


When I saw Dr. Chan on Monday, he didn't promise that he could fix it, but did promise that he would do his best.  I am more than confident that he did just that.  Now we have to wait and see what happens next.  It will take months to determine the final outcome as to whether or not I receive ANY mobility back in my wrist.


When I got to the recovery room, I received the most bittersweet news that I believe I have ever received in my 55 years of living.  The nurse was going through my paperwork with me, and she showed me a piece of paper on the top that I will never forget.  It turns out that one of the things they had to do as they tried to fix my arm was to transplant a bone segment that was harvested from a donor's body.  It was that piece of bone that helped to lengthen and repair all the damage that I did last week when I wrecked my bike.


To imagine that somewhere on this earth someone cared for others more than them self to sign a donor card, was pretty overwhelming to me.  When the nurse told me, I got a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes.  I didn't realize that receiving a transplanted bone was even a possibility in surgery today. What a bittersweet feeling to know that someone had to die in order that my arm could be repaired.  I may never know who gave that bone segment to me, but who ever they might have been, they will now live within me forever.


You wouldn't think that a small section of human bone would have the significance that it did today. But for me it will determine how much use I will get back in my wrist in the future.


No matter what the results of today's surgery are in the years ahead, I will always remember and hold close to my heart that special gift of a donated bone segment.  Without it, my chances of getting better were slim to none. 


Now's here's my question to all of you...Have any of you already decided to be a donor upon your death?  By the way, there IS no right or wrong answer.  The decision has to be made by you and you alone.  


I've always been a strong supporter of organ donation.  For me, it makes absolutely no sense at all to bury my body with all of the organs still intact.  Why not let the doctors harvest my liver, kidneys, heart, lungs, or the corneas of my eyes to someone on this earth who really needs them?


 Only recently have I learned of the great demand for bone and skin donations. My three children know very well of my desire to give what ever in the world is needed from my body when I die.  And as of today, I realize the importance of paying it forward in such a manner.


I'll be spending the next few days recuperating here at home and anticipating returning to school on August 15th.  Thank you everyone for your kindness, prayers, and good thoughts.  I am not giving up hope that this will work out, but I realize that my chances don't look so good at this time.  Several of us spoke last night of the chance of a miracle taking place.  I have come to realize that perhaps the miracle had already happened last Thursday.  And that would be that I am alive in the first place.  And you know, I think I can live with that.   

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