An Unexpected Roommate

An Unexpected Roommate
Sometime in between all of the tests and treatments to find out how soon my body needed new organs, I was told that undergoing a kidney and a liver transplant would entail clinic visits twice a week for six weeks post transplant. After a transplant, and especially of two organs, a lot of care and attention is given to make sure the body accepts the new (foreign) organs; anti-rejection medications and lab work are required for life.

     My heart sank. This care would mean driving 2+ hours back-and-forth from Abilene to Ft. Worth. There was no way I could do this driving because I couldn’t even walk without a walker and my car wasn’t in great shape. I honestly felt like it might be too much of a burden for my family to help me with this. I was worried about the money involved as well as the time.

     When I mentioned this to my social worker she told me about the Twice Blessed House. The hospital had access to six one-bedroom apartments for transplant patients in an apartment complex a few blocks from the hospital. Even though the hospital was given a good deal on the rentals, it would cost me a fair amount of money to live there for six weeks—cheaper than staying at a hotel room. 

     I took a moment to soak all this in. Between watching TV and playing one of those dumb adventure game apps on my phone that sucks money out of you like old arcade games did, I mulled things over. What this all meant was that there was no longer a question of whether or not I was going to get a transplant, only a matter of when and what I needed to do to prepare myself for a life beyond transplant…especially immediately afterwards.

     I called my mom to let her know about the development. My social worker had mentioned that I must have a roommate. I told my mom that my first thought was that maybe I could stay at my friend Tim‘s place if he was OK with that. Or perhaps not for the full six weeks (he has a wife and two teenage kids), but perhaps for a couple of weeks and then may shit to someone else’s home if I could find somebody else who lived in the area. 

     “Well, let’s think about it,” mom said. “This might take a little while or it could happen pretty quickly.” She was right. The doctors needed to run lab work for my latest MELD score to see how bad off my liver was. I was told that I would definitely be put on the list and possibly near the top. My kidneys were failing me and dialysis had become a regular occurrence. I’d had ascites for a while and paracentesis and thoracentesis were no longer very productive in draining my body of peritoneal fluid.

     “I’ll do it. Don’t worry about it.  I’ve already talked with dad about it. I’ll come out there and stay with you after your transplant.”

     “Really?”

     “Yes, of course. You can’t be staying with Tim‘s family. You shouldn’t be worrying about any of this anyway.”

     “I just didn’t know what else to do. I mean I’m running so many tests and doing so many things and…”

     “I’ve talked with your social worker. I just need to have a background check done and then she’ll put us on the list.  Let’s just pray that one of the apartments will be available after your transplant.“

     My mom had been a nurse for over 30 years in Hendrick Medical Center in Abilene.  She was the perfect caregiver for me. I felt so much relief knowing that on the other end of my transplant I would be taken care of.

     “Okay. Wow. Thanks so much, mom.”

     “Just think. We’ll be roommates.”

     “For six weeks.”

     “Yep.”