I must say, right from the "get go", if you are one who has already decided against organ donation that this post is NOT going to be one that tries to persuade you to change your mind. I'm a very firm believer in the fact that the decision to do so is a very, very personal one and no one should ever feel forced into doing it. I believe that your "no" is a holy one and I respect you for it. But perhaps there are some of you reading this post who have never considered the possibility of donating your organs or tissue when you die to others who need it to live. To you and everyone else I say, here is my story.
Six days after my cycling accident, I checked into the Surgery Center of the Kansas Orthopaedic Center in Wichita in order to do whatever I could to save my left arm, hand and wrist. Life looked a little grim to me that morning as I made my way to Wichita for a 7:30 surgery, one that I hoped would allow my arm to have a chance to be rebuilt and then heal. I'm sure that I looked a sight, sporting a heavy cast that was all connected to a devise called an external fixator. It was that apparatus plus 2 pins that held my "Humpty Dumpty" arm together. I didn't figure there was anywhere to go but up! I had nothing to lose and hopefully a working arm, hand, and wrist to gain.
The very lovely external fixator device....it looks painful but really wasn't. It was the only thing holding me together for nearly a week.
The surgery began on time and in fact, was completed just a little over an hour later. I was awake for it, with only a "block" in my left arm pit that numbed "old lefty" pretty dang good. For the most part, I was awake and could hear the doctors working feverishly to put in a plate and some screws to hold everything together. It seemed like stitching me up took longer than the actual surgery and before I knew it, I was being wheeled into recovery.
One of the very first things that I was handed, in fact it WAS the first thing, was a small envelope with a message written inside from the Musculoskeletal Transplant Foundation. My recovery nurse handed it to me with a kind smile on her face and told me that during surgery I had received the gift of someone's bone material to help to rebuild the shattered radius that the doctors encountered during surgery. She also showed me an 12-digit number that matched the identity of my anonymous donor. If I wished, I could contact the donor's family, via the MTF, to thank them for their loved one's gift.
It was a moment in time that I will never forget as long as I live and at first, it was such a shock that I didn't know what to say. I had no idea that I might be the recipient of someone's bone....heck, I didn't even know they could do that. And talk about a bitter-sweet feeling....my arm was saved but only because someone had died. All I could do was cry and thankfully no one there thought anything worse of me because I did. They were quick to tell me that I wasn't the first nor would I ever be the last to become emotional about being the recipient of another person's body parts. I will always remember laying my right hand over on "old lefty" at the precise spot I imagined the donor's bone to be. It was as if I was hugging that person, acknowledging that my life would never again be the same and that "unknown" person had saved my arm, and hey even perhaps my life.
When I returned home, one of the first things I did was to write a note of thanks to the donor's family, sending it to the MTF office in Connecticut. They would, in turn, forward it on to the family for me. I waited, hoping to hear back from them, and when I didn't nearly 2 months after mailing it, I contacted someone at the MTF office. I received a kind response from them explaining that I might not hear back right away or even at all. The letter explained that chances were good that my donor could have died up to 2 years ago and that for some families the time after the first year anniversary of their loved one's death is quite difficult. Although I was a little disappointed to not learn more about the person who gave me their bone, I respectfully understood their decision. Who knows? In time I may receive some type of communication from them~but I want it to be when they are ready.
In the recovery room that day, I lay there trying to think about what kind of person could have given me the bone. For some strange reason, and most of you know this, the name "Eleanor" popped into my mind. Friends, there was absolutely NO reason for me to think of that name. The only "Eleanors" in my brain's data base are Eleanors Rigby and Roosevelt. But yet I did and I felt there was a strong connection between my donor and that name. Remembering of course, that I was pretty "happy" with morphine at that time that may indeed explain it. But "Eleanor" that person became and when I felt really low, like there was absolutely no way to go on with that heavy cast, I just thought about the other person who now was living inside me and you know what? It helped me to stay focused and to go on.
In December, I have been asked to make a journey to Kansas City to speak at a dinner honoring those in our area who work with our local transplant foundation. Several of us, recipients of transplanted organs or tissue, will be there to tell our story about how our lives were impacted by being given a chance at a healthy life because of someone's decision to donate their useful body parts at their death. I gladly accepted the invitation to attend and speak, one very small way to "pay it forward" on Eleanor's behalf. I spend a lot of time these days, researching the subject of organ/tissue donation and learning as much as I can in order to be prepared to discuss it with anyone who is interested. And by the way, this teacher of 34 years, has a LOT to learn!
Thank you guys for letting me share this much with you today. Item #10 on the Miller Bucket List, "to promote understanding for the cause of organ/tissue donation" is going to keep me busy for a while. There's a lot of people waiting out there my friends who desperately need us all to consider this upon our death. It's not a fun subject to think about....but it is a part of life and if it were us who were in need, I'm thinking we'd be hoping someone would consider helping us.
Today, I am thanking God for the journey. My life has been one of the strangest things, at times. Everything that has happened to me, during all the 20,000+ days of my existence, has happened for some very good reason. Even the "bad things" kept leading me on towards all of the good that was waiting for me. Wherever your journey takes you today, may it be with peace and safe travels. I love you all dear friends and count it a blessing to call you "friend." Peggy Miller is STILL more determined than she is afraid.
In the recovery room that day, I lay there trying to think about what kind of person could have given me the bone. For some strange reason, and most of you know this, the name "Eleanor" popped into my mind. Friends, there was absolutely NO reason for me to think of that name. The only "Eleanors" in my brain's data base are Eleanors Rigby and Roosevelt. But yet I did and I felt there was a strong connection between my donor and that name. Remembering of course, that I was pretty "happy" with morphine at that time that may indeed explain it. But "Eleanor" that person became and when I felt really low, like there was absolutely no way to go on with that heavy cast, I just thought about the other person who now was living inside me and you know what? It helped me to stay focused and to go on.
In December, I have been asked to make a journey to Kansas City to speak at a dinner honoring those in our area who work with our local transplant foundation. Several of us, recipients of transplanted organs or tissue, will be there to tell our story about how our lives were impacted by being given a chance at a healthy life because of someone's decision to donate their useful body parts at their death. I gladly accepted the invitation to attend and speak, one very small way to "pay it forward" on Eleanor's behalf. I spend a lot of time these days, researching the subject of organ/tissue donation and learning as much as I can in order to be prepared to discuss it with anyone who is interested. And by the way, this teacher of 34 years, has a LOT to learn!
Thank you guys for letting me share this much with you today. Item #10 on the Miller Bucket List, "to promote understanding for the cause of organ/tissue donation" is going to keep me busy for a while. There's a lot of people waiting out there my friends who desperately need us all to consider this upon our death. It's not a fun subject to think about....but it is a part of life and if it were us who were in need, I'm thinking we'd be hoping someone would consider helping us.
Today, I am thanking God for the journey. My life has been one of the strangest things, at times. Everything that has happened to me, during all the 20,000+ days of my existence, has happened for some very good reason. Even the "bad things" kept leading me on towards all of the good that was waiting for me. Wherever your journey takes you today, may it be with peace and safe travels. I love you all dear friends and count it a blessing to call you "friend." Peggy Miller is STILL more determined than she is afraid.
No comments:
Post a Comment