The Sober Widow

Chapter 5

Now we’re into spring 2023. I’ve already had two hospital stays and many doctors’ appointments at this point. During the last stay and follow-up appointment, it was made very clear to me that I was definitely going to need a liver transplant. I was FREAKED OUT by this because it was (to me) hitting rock bottom. Thank God I hadn’t gotten a DUI or been in an accident where someone else was hurt (or worse). That would have ruined me, for sure.

But when you are told, in a very serious tone, that your liver is shot and you’ll need a new one, that’s pretty damn sobering (pardon the pun). Before I lost Tony, this had been strongly hinted, but it wasn’t official until after he died. I’m honestly not sure what that would have done to him. He was already a nervous wreck about how sick I was and the (at that time) unknown, full diagnosis.

Now the real fun began. As I mentioned in a prior post, you would not believe the long, long lead up and hoops to jump through just to get on the transplant list. Up to now, I had been seeing local doctors in Salem. But the transplant would take place at the Massachusetts General Hospital, which was very fortunate for me. I did some research (since I couldn’t work, I felt like that’s all I did, plus my friend Lucia – bless her – did a ton as well) and if you need any sort of transplant whatsoever in the northeast U.S., that is the place you want to be.

Mass. General Hospital takes patients from all over the world. Their transplant unit is almost exclusively served by New England Donor Services, but patients will make the journey from far and wide to MGH just for the purpose of being operated on there. I was extremely lucky that I lived so close (on a day with no traffic, it was 40 minutes from my house to the hospital). The reason that matters so much is because of all the follow-up post-surgery. But we’ll get to that.

My first visit to the transplant clinic was supposed to be at the end of June, but due to hospital stays in June, it was postponed to the end of July. Remember my earlier post when I said liver disease messes with your mind? That’s because a sick liver builds up toxins it can’t get rid of that affect your brain. I was NOT myself at all. I couldn’t remember so much (my own phone number, where I lived, the password for my phone for God’s sake) and I slept a lot. Also, there were times that I thought I was dreaming when I was awake, and vice versa. At one point I was so out of it that my friend Suzi called 911 and I took a ride courtesy of the ambulance drivers (my poor dog was just out of his mind at this intrusion in our house).

I stayed there for over a week. They had me on a drip with medication to address the toxicity (meanwhile my ascites swelling was unbearable). They let me go home, and the next day I passed out and my neighbor, who was coming over anyway, found me on the floor and called 911. Turns out I caught Covid from my hospital roommate, a dear older lady from Ireland (her daughter laughingly said “oh mom, I probably shouldn’t have come in to visit, I just tested positive for Covid!” The nurse threw her out but the damage was done. What a thoughtless dweeb to expose her ELDERLY MOTHER, and me, to her illness! Anyway, there goes another two weeks while they treated that. And I was quarantined pretty thoroughly – no visitors and anything brought into my room could not leave it, it would have to be thrown out.

Now we’re finally ready to go to the transplant clinic. My brother Mike and dear friends Lucia and Suzi came with me. How amazing is that? (Sidebar – I can never thank any of them enough for what they’ve done for me.) During this visit, which was several hours long, we first gathered in a classroom with other patients (I like to think of us all as the “2023 graduating class of Liver Transplant High”). We were treated to a long but very informative seminar on how the liver gets sick (it’s not just alcohol abuse but that’s obviously the leading contender), what it looks like when it’s on its last legs (EWWW, get that thing out of me!! 😊) and a full recap of the surgery itself, post-op and recuperation. You would not believe the amount of medication you have to take after surgery, but that’s for another day.

I also met with the transplant doctors themselves for a personal assessment. It was fairly overwhelming. I’m incredibly glad I had my brother and pals with me to help remember everything. And at that point, we were only talking about the liver. It was not yet known that I would also need a new kidney.

We go home, and now I have to wait to hear back from them on the next steps (they might be different for me than other patients due to the degree of illness). In the meantime, I have a laundry list of stuff I have to do. It’s a pretty long list.

1. I had to basically accept and admit the fact that I needed the transplant and what caused the damage (for me, drinking). My doctor actually said at one point that the fact that I had had gastric bypass surgery in 2006 was very likely a contributing factor, but my drinking definitely accelerated the issue.
2. I had to sign up for individual counseling/therapy sessions with a licensed psychologist.
3. My liver function numbers based on weekly blood testing had to show a certain consistent level of disease in order to demonstrate that this was medically necessary.
4. I had to prove I had a support system in place for before and, especially after surgery. The fact that I had three people with me sort of proved that point.

Then there were all the other things I had to do, like get a tooth pulled that had abscessed while I was in the hospital earlier in June (even though it had healed with antibiotics, it was still considered too risky for infection). I had to get a Covid booster. I had to have the ascites liquid drawn weekly to give my kidneys a break. There were a lot more things that had to be done, but we’ll get to that. But my transplant journey has begun and it’s now early August.

(foreboding music) Dun dun DUN!