My Liver Transplant

          Wednesday, June 17, 1992

          6:50 p.m.


                                                     The phone rings.

                                                     "Hello."

                                                     "Mr. Dew?"

                                                     "Yes."

                                                     "This is Amy at Ochsner Transplant Center.
                                                       We have a liver for you."

                                          *****************

          I was shocked, because I had been on the transplant list for only six days, and had
     been told the average wait for a liver was about three months.  Of course, some wait
     much longer than three months, and sadly some die before they can receive a new
     liver (or any other organ).

          I had undergone a procedure the week before, which was helping to keep fluid
     from building up in my body.  It had also seemed to help keep my ulcerative colitis,
     which I had battled for 17 years, under control.

          So, I was actually feeling better than I had in a long time.  When I was told they
     had a liver for me, I was tempted to say, "No thanks.  I'm feeling much better now.
     I'll wait for the next one."

          But I knew I couldn't do that.  There may not be another liver.  So all I could think
     of to say to her was "Really?"  She assured me that they had procured a liver for me, and
     asked me how far I was from Ochsner's.

          "About 285 miles," I told her.

          She told me to be careful, but I needed to get there as soon as I could.

                                           *****************

          The first time I'd had any liver problems was when I was 13 and got very sick.
     The various doctors I saw weren't sure what was wrong, but after a lot of testing,
     it was decided I needed to undergo exploratory surgery.

          After the surgery, the surgeon came out and told my parents that I had liver
     cancer, and that I had maybe six months to live.  My family was terribly shaken
     by the news, but didn't tell me the prognosis since I was so young.

          Dr. Baker told them they wouldn't know for sure it was cancer until
     the pathology reports came back.  The initial report was negative, giving my parents
     hope, and eventually all the reports came back negative.  This was an answer to the
     prayers of many in my church and elsewhere in Bastrop. 
 
          We were without a pastor at the time, and our music minister, Dick Day, along
     with many others, was very helpful to my family and me during this stressful time.


          So, I didn't have cancer, but there was still something terribly wrong with my
     liver.  Dr. Baker took the biopsies to a prominent pathologist in Shreveport, who
     after examining them and the surgical report, said he had never seen anyone with
     this type of liver problem before.

           After consulting with other doctors, he diagnosed me with a very rare liver
     disease -- so rare that it didn't even have a name yet.  Later, it became known as
     "Ascending Biliary Sclerosis," and I was only the 13th person in the country
    known to have it.

          Dr. Baker  talked to other experts to see what he should do to treat me, and
     finally decided to give me large doses of prednisone.  The prednisone didn't
     cure me, but it seemed to put the disease into some sort of remission, and it
     gave me a big appetite.  I gained about 40 pounds over the summer, and was
     able to go back to school in the fall.


          Four years later, I had my first bout of ulcerative colitis, which often accom-
     panies "Ascending Biliary Sclerosis."  Then, when I was 28, the liver problem
     started to return, and I was told I would eventually need a liver transplant.

          I put it off for six years, but I was getting sicker, and after throwing up enough
     blood to half way fill up a hospital pan, we knew we couldn't wait much longer.
     The fluid was starting to build up again, especially in my stomach.  It was so big
     I looked like I had swallowed a basketball.


                                      ********************

          OCHSNER TRANSPLANT CENTER


          I ended up going to Ochsner's in New Orleans, where I underwent a LOT of
     testing to see if I was a good candidate for a transplant.

          After going through the process for a couple months and several trips back and
     forth to Ochsner's, I was told that my name was going to be put on the waiting list
     for a transplant.  I also needed to have my colon removed because of the years of
     ulcerative colitis, but the doctors couldn't decide whether to do both surgeries at
     the same time, or do the transplant and then the colon surgery a few months later.

          Eventually, they decided to do both at the same time, something they had never
     done before.

          I had an appointment with the main surgeon who would be in charge of my
     transplant when it happened.  My mother, brother Rodney, and I were waiting in a
     room for the doctor, Dan Hays.
   
          When he came in I was shocked because he looked so young (I later found out
     he was about 35, but he looked 25).  I was sitting on his stool on wheels, so he
     just hopped up on the examining table and started talking to us.

          Still wondering if he was old enough to be doing this kind of surgery, I bluntly
     asked, "So, YOU'RE doing my surgery?"  He kind of smiled and said, "Yes."  He
     told us he had quite a bit of experience, and the more I talked to him the more I
     liked him.

          I was told to go home and stay close to the phone (had no cell phone at that time),
     because they could be calling at any time.  I certaintly didn't expect it to be six
     days later.


                                              ******************


          THE SURGERY


          After the phone call telling me they had a liver for me, and I needed to get to New
     Orleans as quickly as possible, we were on the road within about 30 minutes.
     My mother and Rodney were going with me and we had our bags packed in case
     we got the call, so it didn't take long to get ready.

          After I got the call, we made it to Ochsner's at about 12:30 a.m., and the first
     person we ran into was our pastor, L.H. McCollough ("Bro. Mac").  He had gotten
     the news at prayer meeting that we were leaving for the transplant, and after
     church he said he hopped in his car and headed for New Orleans to be with us.
     We certainly didn't expect him to go that far, but we were very glad to see him.


          I spent the rest of the night having tests run and prepping for the surgery.
     About 8:00 a.m. Dr. Hays came in to see if I was ready.  They came and got me
     around 9:00, and while we were waiting in the holding room, Bro. Mac led us
     in prayer. 

          I can't lie -- I was really scared as I realized what was about to happen.  I
     became very emotional and shed a few tears, because I didn't know if I was
     going to survive this whole ordeal.

          In a few minutes they came to take me to surgery, and we said our goodbyes.
     The surgical room was freezing cold and they started working on me immediately.
     A male nurse engaged in small talk with me, but I was so nervous I wasn't in
     much of a mood to say anything.

    
          On my back, they laid both arms straight out away from my body.  I already
     had an IV in my left arm to receive platelets, and would have another put in my
     right arm for fluids.

          Within five minutes someone said, "OK Don, we're goin to put you to sleep
     now. It was about 9:30 a.m.

          Nurses gave my family and Bro. Mac regular updates about the surgery.
     Dr. Hays and his team went first and removed my diseased liver and then put
     in the new one.  This took several hours.


          Then the second phase of surgery started, when Dr. Hicks removed my colon.
     Dr. Hays came back and closed up.

          Dr. Hays came out and told my family that he was going to "sleep well tonight."
     The surgery had gone very well and the new liver was "almost a perfect match."
     He said, "it started working as soon as I got it sewn it.  I wish all my transplants
     went this well."   Thank You, Lord!!


                                              ********************

          POST SURGERY
        
        
          At about 9:30 p.m. I left surgery to be taken to a special ICU for transplant patients.
     I had been in surgery for almost 12 hours.

          I finally woke up at about 9:30 or 10:00 the next morning.  I had been asleep for
     24 hours, and I still slept most of the first day.

          There was an IV in my right arm and one in my neck (thankfully they put that one
     in AFTER they put me to sleep), and I had four drainage tubes in my stomach.

          There was a naso-gastric tube in my nose and a tube down my throat to help me
      breathe.  I knew I would have to be on a ventilator and unable to talk, so I had told
     my mother that after the surgery I was going to want to put on my glasses (I was
     very near sighted).

          I said I would put my hands up to my eyes signifying when I wanted my glasses.
     Unfortunately, I didn't know my hands would be strapped down to my side, to keep
     me from pulling out any of the tubes or IVs, so I wasn't able to put my hands up to
     my eyes.  I started blinking my eyes over and over, and finally my mother realized
     I wanted my glasses so I could see better.


         There was a big bandage on my left wrist and hand, and they were both very sore.
     But no one seemed to know why they were bandaged.  Dr. Hays came to see me and
     my mother asked him about the bandages, and he said, "what bandages?"  He didn't
     know anything about them either.  Finally, we found out that some of the platelets had
     run out of the vein and into the tissue of my wrist and hand, causing a pretty bad burn.

          Those burns bothered me more than anything, because medicine had to be applied
     twice a day, and the arm re-bandaged each time.  Getting the IV removed from my
     neck helped a lot though.  It was very uncomfortable having that long needle in my neck.


          The ventilator was removed the next day and I was able to talk, but I couldn't eat
     anything for several more days. The huge doses of anti-rejection drugs, plus predni-
     sone had me wired and I couldn't sleep.  So I asked Dr.Hays if I could have something
     to help me sleep, and he prescribed ativan, but it had a terrible effect on me.

          I don't know if I had hallucinations or what, but I was convinced there was some-
     one in my room behind me and I was determined he had to go.  Of course, there was
     no one there, but the nurse couldn't convince me otherwise.  I almost ran him crazy
     trying to get that guy out of my room.   Another sleepless night.

          When the ativan wore off and I realized how I had acted, I was embarrassed and
     later apologized to the nurse.  He said that he knew it was the medicine causing me
     to act that way.

          After four days in ICU, I was moved to a regular room, and soon after was able to
     eat solid food.

          Each day I had one tube removed from my stomach.  The doctor told me to close my
     eyes and take a deep breath when he took out the first tube.  It hurt and I
     didn't look forward to having the other three tubes removed.

          A few days later, I had 70 staples removed leaving quite a big scar.

                                                ********************


          LEAVING THE HOSPITAL

 
          Twelve days after my transplant I was released from the hospital, but my mother
     and I had to stay in an apartment close to Ochsner.

          Three days later my temperature had spiked and I found myself back in the hos-
     pital.  Soon though, I was able to go back to the apartment.


          I had to go to the clinic every day, Monday through Friday, and have lab work
     twice a week.  One day both of my shins started to hurt.  The pain got so bad I had to
     go the clinic to get a shot for pain.  The nurse gave me dilaudid and within five seconds
     the pain was going away.  We never were sure what caused the pain, but theorized
     that it could have been because I may have had to taper off the prednisone too fast.

          It felt so good to stop hurting.  I can understand how someone could get addicted to
     narcotics.  A couple of weeks later my temperature spiked again and I had to go back
     into the hospital.  My liver enzymes were high and the doctors thought my body was
     rejecting the liver.

          That meant even stronger anti-rejection drugs.  I felt awful.  My temperature was
     103.4 degrees.  Dr. Regenstein was the doctor I saw at the clinic and he wanted to get a liver
     biopsy to try find out what was wrong.  Ochsner is a teaching hospital, so they have a
     number of young "doctors" who are still in training.

          One of them I saw quite frequently had an unusually long last name that I can't
     remember now, but it sounded something like Kadiddlehopper (like the Red Skelton
     character Clem Kadiddlehopper).  So that's what I called him (not to his face).  He
     wasn't my favorite doctor because he really didn't seem to know what he was doing
     half the time.

          Naturally, he was the one chosen to do my biopsy procecure.  I thought, "Oh no!"
     In a liver biopsy, the doctor sticks a long needle into the liver and gets a specimen
     to be tested.  It's not a pleasant experience.

          Dr. Kadiddlehopper put the needle in and pulled it out.  Then he had to go to the lab
    for testing.  Unfortunately, he came back and told me that he didn't get a big enough
    specimen.  He had to try again.  Great!

          The second time -- same result.  "Sorry.  I'll have to try again."  I made up my mind.
     "This is your last try, Kadiddlehopper," I said to myself.

          The third time -- no luck again.  Unbelievable!  He left to go get Dr. Regenstein who
     came in and did the biopsy himself.  Thank the Lord, he was successful on his first try.

          The results showed no rejection, and I started feeling better.  In a few days I went back
     to the apartment . 

          Two weeks later I was told I could go home if my blood tests were OK.  Thankfully,
     they were good and my mother and I started getting ready to go home.  We had been in New
     Orleans for exactly nine weeks.

          We had come to be friends with a family from Alabama.  Mary Jane had had a liver
     transplant a few days before mine.  She was doing well, but had complications and went
     into a coma shortly before we came home. It didn't look like she would make it.

          Miraculously, she awoke from her coma and made a full recovery.  We hear from her
     every year at Christmas.



                                               *******************


          THANKFUL


          Twenty years have come and gone.  There have been good times and bad times.
     The side effects of the long time liver disease and use of cortisone have included
     cataracts (removed in 2002), and severe osteoporosis.  I had a compression fracture
     of a vertebrae shortly after I got home from New Orleans, which was very painful
     and took several months to recover from.

          Because I have no colon, I've developed mal-digestion and mal-absorption of fat,
     which means my body doesn't properly absorb fats in food, so I'm very skinny and
     can't put on weight no matter how hard I try.  I'm not complaining though.  I'm
     very thankful.


           I'm thankful:


           *For the family who was willing to donate the liver.

           *For the staff at Ochsner who still treat me twenty years later.

           *For friends at church and many others who've helped us and prayed for us
           over the years.

           *For my family --  Rodney, Diana, Charles, Caitlin, and my mother for all
           they've done for me.  Especially my mother.  She has been "doctoring" me
           all my life and I couldn't ask for a better mother.  She and my daddy, who
           passed away only six months before my transplant, were such good role
           models for Rodney and me.

          They taught us right from wrong and read the Bible to us when we were kids,
          and helped lead us to salvation in the Lord.

          *To God, who through His providence, gave me many years that I wouldn't
           have had without the transplant.  Though I didn't deserve it, through His
           grace and mercy, He gave me eternal life in Jesus Christ.


                                 ********************


                                     "And we know that in all things God works for the
                                       good of those who love Him, who have been called
                                       according to His purpose."   Romans 8:28


                                 ********************


          For more information on transplants, go to the UNOS (United Network for
     Organ Sharing) website. 

         Organ Transplants save lives!