Thursday, August 09, 2007

Diary of a Kidney Transplant - 3

Wednesday Aug 9th

When I wake up the next morning, and read the text I sent out, I'm horrified at what people must have thought. So I send another:
"Last night's message was reply to 26 texts when I was v groggy. Sorry so abrupt! Any replies VERY welcome. Sore but elated this am. TX working :) peas & luv Andy x

Then to a few other people who'd asked to be kept up to date: "Sore but elated this am. TX working :) Spoke to Maff last night - in fine fettle - singing when coming off anaesthetic apparently! I'm joining him any mo."

At around midday, I get taken up to the Richard Bright ward to be put in the bay next to Maff.

Spend the rest of Wednesday feeling incredible. Laughing and joking with everyone. We have some visitors - Mum and Suzy, Helen R later, Natasha and Justin. Ruth is around all day, and is a complete superstar. At around 1.30, I call the PM office, and speak first to Liz one of the producers. She wants to call us back at 3 for an interview. Unfortunately, Maff has had a bad reaction to an anti nausea drug he was given. He was pretty spaced out - on a bad trip - in the morning, and felt pretty rough the rest of the day. This made me feel really guilty for being so 'well'.

A pair of Physios come round acting a bit like Butlins red coats in the afternoon and get us both to get out of bed and to sit in a chair. The pharmacist comes round later and says that in 26 years in the job, he's never seen a TX patient out of bed so quickly. He seems to mean it.

Wednesday evening is where the discomfort really starts to set in. We both start regretting our big dinner on Monday. Both of us feel - and look - pretty pregnant. My belly is exploding. 4 or 5 times during the night I get up to gingerly sit on a comode beside my bed (I have lines into my wrist and neck, so moving anywhere more than a metre or two from the bed is impossible. Eventually, my (pretty mild) exertions produce several long and extremely satisfying almost musical farts. This is the beginning of a little bit of relief from the bloated feeling, but not much. This is all around 4 in the morning. Maff is awake in the next bed, and grunts a congratulation. I can hear lots of very short burps coming from his direction. Despite periodic, somewhat uncomfortable contractions all night, and the next morning, it's not until Thursday afternoon that my bowels finally come to life, and produce one of the most satisfying shits ever. That feat isn't repeated however, until 1.30am on Saturday morning. This time it's excruciatingly painful because of the catheter which is due to be sticking up into my bladder until Sunday.

Being told how different I look already - colour in face and lips, sparkle in eyes. I'm not sure whether it's just adrenaline, or what, but after only about 4 hours sleep the night before, I feel wide awake all day, and don't end up sleeping till well after midnight. Maff and I begin our first game of scrabble.


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