It's hard to type with a pulse ox taped to my left index finger, not to mention all the other contraptions I'm hooked to! But it is less than yesterday. Each hour is a little better. I'm just now getting my first food in about 56 hours, so that's helping a lot, and I just walked two laps around the hallways. Slowly but surely recovering.
I'll try reviewing the last 36 hours since we arrived at the hospital for surgery, minus the anesthesia of course Dale and I arrived for check-in at main registration at 6:00. Got my bracelets and paperwork, then up to ASU 2 to check in. They brought both of us back to a room we stayed in for the next 2 hours. A nurse came to to review paperwork, meds, etc, they changed me into a gown, put my IV in. The anesthesiologist came in to talk about how that would go, and I was comfortable with that. The surgeon, Dr. Samara, came in to explain things to me and Dale. I had talked to him once before in April and things had changed slightly since our first conversation which was mostly about a left laparoscopic nephrectomy because later they decided to do a right open nephrectromy. But he was excellent.
Just before 7:00 and Dustin and Kenzie were able to come by to visit before he went to hospital dialysis which preceded his surgery. We had a nice visit and it struck me again how we are all 4 calm and capable people which added to the collective feeling of being ready and feeling like this is really the right thing to do. I think they left just after 7:00, and Dale and I were in that room until a little after 8:30. My surgery time had changed from from 8:00 to 8:30. I remember the clock moving SO SLOWLY between 7:30 and 8:30. We joked and waited and checked messages. I stared at the ceiling and thought about important things.
Finally the nurse came in to push me on the gurney into surgery and we made the very long trek to what felt like the back hallways of the hospital, a very sterile and industrial feeling. The room was much bigger than I expected with very high ceilings. They spoke nicely to me and had me move onto the operating table. I followed a few instructions but I don't remember what they were... things went dark then. The operation was underway.
The doctor and nurse coordinator came out to give Dale updates: When they had me open and were working on the kidney, when the kidney was out, when i was closed up and moved to recovery. They said there were some pain management issues to work out as I awoke but I don't remember them. When I remember waking up I was still and sore, but not in pain. I was drifting in and out of consciousness. They were giving me fentanyl at that point which Tyler had warned me to tell them not to do because of nausea, but I didn't have any problems with it. Nurse Ashley or someone came and told me the operation was successful and everything went well. I smiled as I went back to sleep. It was good to hear that my part was done. Now I just had to hear that Dustin's was good.
I might have been recovery for an hour or two, then they brought me up to my private room here on 10E which is right next to Dustin's room. I think Dale was here when I arrived. I'm really fuzzy about that part and most of that afternoon and evening, but I do remember hearing that the transplant was sucessful and the kidney was working right away. A friend of ours came by (Shaun) and then another (Randy) and I do remember both. Dale left around 8pm to go back to the hotel. Nurses and others were in and out of the room all afternoon and night, checking vitals, giving meds and IVs, hooking me up to things, asking questions. They came in most of the night and I didn't sleep very solidly due to discomfort. Fortunately the bed isn't too bad to stay in one position because I was unable to move much.
So that was all Monday night into Tuesday, and right now it's Tuesday night. I've progressed a LOT since this morning. I couldn't imagine eating anything this morning, and now I'm ready to eat easy soft things (and have consumed a few). This morning I had a good bit of nausea and that's gone now thanks to anti-nausea meds and stopping the opiates. This morning I hadn't gotten out of the bed and now I'm doing laps in the hallway. This morning I had a catheter and now I've been to the bathroom myself 5 or 6 times (evidently my remaining kidney is doing just fine). This morning I could barely think straight enough to read messages on my phone, and now I'm typing this. So today was mostly just making slow progress with food, arrangements, moving around, medicine, etc. Dale was a huge help, and so patient. He's not used to seeing me like that - immobile, slow, and somewhat helpless! We did also get to visit with Dustin and Kenzie a couple of times. They are doing great!! I am so pleased to hear good reports on the transplanted kidney which now goes by Idunne. However, I feel no ownership of it anymore. I just really want a good outcome for Dustin.
My incision is one straight line about the length of my hand if I stretch it out pinky to thumb. It goes from two inches above my belly button to my left side. I'm going to like the scar. Dr. Samara stitched it up like plastic surgery and glued it, so I won't have staple marks. He did say that he was glad that I agreed to the open surgery, because it was easier to get the renal vein. It was split into two veins where it connects to the kidney, so by being able to get it right off the inferior vena cava (as I understand it) gave him a more viable organ to transplant. This would have been very difficult or impossible get it out this way laparoscopically.
Nurse Ashley came by to give me the donor educational materials - i.e. the remainder of recovery to take it easy because I don't want to deal with an incisional hernia, and how to live life afterwards with one kidney - basically, the same with a few minor exceptions. One is that Tylenol should be my go-to for pain rather than Ibuprofen or other NSAIDs. Another is that I should avoid getting dehydrated; so, 2 liters of liquid per day. She also recommends not going on a high protein diet, though this recommendation varies widely depending on who you ask. Things like this long term I can always consult with Seth.
They say I'll likely be here all day tomorrow and get discharged on Thursday. I'm looking forward to that, but I do need to prepare for it -- the attention will die down (both medical and all the online messages, etc.) and after a couple more days with Dale in the hotel, I'll have a quiet 10 days of recovery here in OKC staying with a friend before my mom comes up to bring me home after my post-op appointment with the surgeon. Fortunately, there is more of the story to watch happening, as Dustin gets back to healthier with the new kidney and he and his family can move on with their lives. So there really is no end here, the happiness generated from this event will continue on indefinitely. I'm certainly good with that.
Anna is in the room next door. We saw Dale briefly and I will be given the task to be up and walking a bit later. Hopefully, I will be able to stumble by. A bit of lucidity has returned as the antibiotics have begun to wear off. I am peeing like crazy and my creatinine has already dropped a point (and now another)! This is unofficial; but Idunn is working! Idunn?
Idunn was the Norse god of health and her gifts kept those beings immortal in the Northman’s myth. So, it seemed a fitting name for Anna’s gift…. although I still dig “Arkay.” Official word will be the doctors to give in a few hours.
Going into this procedure, I had wanted to still virtually attend my HPI Coaching Skills call last night. I thought would be powerful. It would have been selfish. I was in no cognitive state to serve as a good partner during the breakout portion. The make-up procedure is a lot more work, but the course is superb and thus worth the effort. My clients are worth the effort.
I was interrupted from writing this by the ultrasound tech coming to check blood flow and function of the transplant. “Impressive,” is what he said… twice. One of the primary things he was looking at was the resistance to blood flow from Idunn. We want low resistance and we got it! We were at 0.58 and 8.0 is where issues begin. She lit up, full of blood.
That other “impressive” remark was at him not having to navigate around bandages, dressings and staples. The surgeons were able to glue the incision site. I guess becoming a smaller animal had its uses. It feels like I can go back to sleep, now… so I will.
The day is here! I slept OK and didn't fret about the hour or two that I was awake and thinking about things. I'll get plenty of sleep over the next few days. I wish I could have some coffee this morning but I don't need it. I feel as awake and focused as if I had the best coffee in the world.
I think Dustin had more coherent things to say about things than I will right now (yeah, D, don't worry about the anesthesia talk, I'm not worried ;) ) but I did have one interesting word that came to me last night that I think describes my feelings now. That is "resonance." One of the definitions is "the quality in a sound of being deep, full, and reverberating". I hear/feel the sound of all of you supporting us today. It is the most incredible chorus of love and support I've ever been subject to. It is so uplifting! Thank you all from the bottom of my heart! Another definition, related to physics, "the reinforcement or prolongation of sound by reflection from a surface or by the synchronous vibration of a neighboring object". I feel resonance like synchronous vibrations between all of us that are here to do this... the energy, hope, love, and determination that will get us through to the other side of this mountain and then down that steep slope of the next few days. The energy is harmonious, beautiful, and resonant. We had good visits with each other yesterday. Everything feels so right.
And I am still not nervous either! Surprise, surprise. I wouldn't have expected just how much inner calm I have had this past week, because I do get nervous about things sometimes, and this is a new and different and really big thing. But here I think that strength training has served me well. You do the work, and then the event comes (certification weekend, competition event, important training day, etc.); you know the work has been done and you just go do your best. I have prepared and done the work. I am ready. All is well. Everything is as it should be. Time to go do it!
I have always gotten up early… as a kid, even as a teenager and as a willing adult embracer of Franklin’s early bird club. It’s easy to do when that is what you do. 1:32 am is a taking it bit far. As is common with most kidney patients, I have gone through my poly-phasic sleep where my sleep-wake cycle is disturbed. A combination of meticulous sleep environment control and Modafinil busted this for me. When I was poly-phasic I learned it was best to get up and do something while avoiding anything with a screen. Dishes and laundry were typical tasks, and after an hour and a half or so I would go back to bed. Now I would where my blue light blocking glasses and write like I am being inspired to do now.
Is this because I am anxious about tomorrow? At the risk of being the one who “doth protested to much,” I am not nervous. Not like I “should” be. I am ready for -THIS- to not be the center of my family’s world. Anna shared yesterday and I believe back in April, that she has never been in a medical procedure where she was put completely under. And I clumsily responded to this but relaying the time I “woke” up under anesthesia during comprehensive dental surgery. Sorry again for being insensitive here, Anna. But on the drive to my Parents after our brief meet-up, I realized that it was I able to bring that up with no fear or forced connection to the event she and I share today. I don’t feel particularly anxious… I can’t tell you why and I keep examining myself for my “okness.” This IS scary shit but as of yet, I am taking it moment to moment. Curious if this will continue as we line up for our approach.
Then why am I up? Typically, I never sleep with an alarm unless I have a flight (or a Kidney Transplant). I’m at my parents’ house and I slept well till I didn’t. This is the same with travel. If I set an alarm it seems to set up an internal competition to beat the alarm awake. I am more concerned about the alarm being where I can hear it or on than I am about the trip. This current situation is more like that. But as is my way, I try and turn all things to my advantage and this waking has given me time to write this blog post that the morning schedule would have made difficult.
I will utterly fail If I try and express my appreciation at the love and support we have received through this whole journey but it is in these last few hours where the task would build to impossible. But here is my attempt. Thank you, Thank you for the care, concern and connection. This is inadequate.
I feel called to shut down the inputs a bit as I gear up for recovery. So, I will fast from social media and may be slow to respond to texts. My consigliere (or am I her’s?), Beth, supported this and has agreed to continue to keep everyone updated. Kenzie has a different engine and will no doubt keep her feed active. Anna and I decided to keep the blog going as we still have words to write, so I will continue to ramble here as long as it serves and folks are reading. I know we will have one reader in Mrs. Williams. (Hello, Gram Bettie!) All things pass through trials not all things are worthy of being tried. Fates willing, I am worthy.
We are almost there! Both literally and figuratively. Dale and I are in Tyler, TX having and uneventful but enjoyable drive yesterday, and will be in Oklahoma City by mid-afternoon. Light breakfast this morning will be my last food until after surgery. Just clear liquids the rest of the day and nothing in the morning.
Kenzie posted a great article yesterday about the National Kidney Foundation's program called THE BIG ASK: THE BIG GIVE that encourages and guides kidney patients in need of transplant how to go about finding a donor. I think it's a GREAT program; very important and insightful, and can have a huge impact. I am not sure what my advocacy role will be going forward, but I want to do continue with something (and you can only give one kidney!). Education and awareness is the main thing. So many people don't know this opportunity is out there. My favorite quote from the article, "She realized that she gave something to the list of potential donors too - the opportunity to come to the aide of another human being in a big way. She knows now that is a special gift."
"See Clearly; Act Courageously" is embedded deep into my psyche now. It will always be a way of life for whatever remainder I have of of it. I told Dustin the day we met in April that the few people I had told about being a donor thusfar had seemed to want to give me credit for acting courageously. That felt odd to me because I felt like my action was just what followed from a good decision, and that was the part I gave myself credit for -- the seeing clearly that this thing needed doing and I could do it. And of course I never would have seen it if not for his willingness to tell his story and ask, and his team's hard work to get the word out and provide support and information. As he has said many times, this truly is a team effort. Roles could easily be reversed -- I could be the one receiving a kidney tomorrow. It's just the luck of the draw that mine are healthy. So this is all just a really cool way that right now in this day and time, one person can make a big difference for another. It's a really, really neat thing.
I've been listening to an audiobook by a transplant surgeon and my biggest takeaway is how hearty the human body is, and how many problems can arise and be dealt with in the transplant process. So although things can come up that will make these next days and weeks less than ideally smooth, that is par for the course. We will, as Dustin says, "navigate evenly over the uneven."
I'm so glad to have Dale with me. He says that there are other things he might choose to do with a week off than drive to Oklahoma to help me give away an organ ;) but yet he is here, supportive, and wonderful. We've known each other for 30 years and been married for 27, and I can't imagine having a better partner to go through life with. He always lets me be me, helps me be me better, and supports what I decide to do. I've had phenomenal support from all of my family and I feel that it will be something in our family legacy that did together; especially Dale and Tyler, my mom and my brother Seth, and so many others as well... "We" are giving a kidney. I am me because of all of you.
Looks like there's some stormy weather to get through on the rest of the drive. But 24 hours from now I will about to be put to sleep... Just need to get there so we can do this thing.
I got an Oura ring for my birthday in May. It keeps track of sleep quality and activity levels among other things. It has been interesting to watch it freak out during and post dialysis and it will help me stay objective during my post-op recovery. As an aside, it told when my fever spiked a few weeks ago preceding the trip to the ER My ring told me this morning that I was in a “high state of readiness and that the lighter activity in the previous day has fueled my system”. Indeed; I am in a high state of readiness. Not just physically but mentally as well… not frentic... but a feeling of contentment is a close enough descriptor.
Things are a blur around the house as last-minute prep and packing. Those that know Kenzie know that no need will be left untended for… glad we have a truck. I just reminded Bennett to love on the dogs a bit, next step is taking them to boarding. After that a little cleaning and then drive into OKC. Anna and Dale made it to Tyler Texas last night and we visit with them briefly before going to my folk’s house. I have a Hibiclens bath to do this evening as well as another round of Dulcolax. TMI, I know. Just had some eggs and berries as my last solid meal and will have some bone broth on my drive over on the turnpike then nothing else to Tuesday. Readiness is being proactive as opposed to reactive. This echos Anna’s post from a few days back when she discerned for us the difference between mindfulness and preparedness. Am I ready?
I sense there is a difference between being ready and readiness. Being ready assumes a bit of ownership of the result. You can't really determine if you were ready till after the fact. Where being in a state of readiness is an assessment of your current capability. So, am I ready? Who knows. Am I doing what needs to be done with what I have? Arguably, yes.
No promises. I thrive when things are moving, my personal work and coaching around the CliftonStrengths assessment has gifted me with a productive re-framing of my talents and tendencies. Namely, I see patterns best when things are moving and I have little qualms instigating movement if necessary. This was true in my strength/movement training as I need to see someone walk, lift or perform to know where to go next with their training and is proving true with my coaching delivery and Practice development as well. What I am just now seeing is the contentment I now reside in is likely a product of the so many moving parts that blur just past my control. I have plans made for this week, season and next year and have zero trust that they will still be the same plans next week, season or year. I am not in control but this is when and where I thrive in what Anna shared today as the eye of the storm. No promises.
Only a path. Last summer after the stroke, multiple hospital stays, complete kidney failure, uremia I finally let go. It was few weeks after dialysis had begun and I was still holding on to this image of how I was “supposed” to be and what was “supposed” to happen. I had a heroic idea of how I would handle it which I completely proved unable to live up to and this expectation finally broke me completely and beautifully. It wasn’t a thunderous moment, but a quiet one. I suddenly had an overwhelming compassion for myself and my situation. I remember well, my dear friend and social media angel, Beth calling me on my shit preemptively to this shift. She picked me up from dialysis as I still wasn’t clear to drive and I shared almost unconsciously that I wasn’t living up to my standards and that being aware of it wasn’t getting me any further from the pressure of it. What particular words were exchanged slip from memory but the notion that the suffering that I was heaping upon my situation was optional and self-generated and I was free to keep piling on until the lesson was learned. I just started making use of what I had. Dialysis time became MBA paper-writing time. Post-treatment energy fall-out became “quiet time” for Bennett and I. Lack of energy became a life prioritization tool. Necessity for business change lead me peel away what I do best until something akin to the coaching practice I am now find myself. Although Anna’s involvement in my healing journey causes me to question it, but I don’t truly believe things happen for a reason… even If I think it is a useful thing to believe. Making the best use of what life offers you in every moment seems to be the only way to move forward, productively. Only a path.
Accompanying soundtrack below...
It's Saturday and I'm writing this at 3:30 a.m. and now I've got coffee onboard, so I might be extra wordy. I tried to go back to sleep after waking up at 2:20, but way too much on my mind. Dale and I are leaving today for Oklahoma.
Yesterday I thought of all the "last" things I was doing before the surgery and this life-changing event, with the kidney still in me. Last training session at the gym, last day at work, last time on base, last night in my bed. I don't know how much the same these things will be after return and recovery - I expect, pretty much the same. We shall see, and it's going to take some work to get there.
As I said once before, there are three big parts to being a living donor: 1) the pre-donation process and tests, 2) the surgery and recovery, and 3) the life afterwards with one kidney. #1 is a lot of work, I can tell you. When you're driven to do it, it just becomes part of what you need to do just as if you had your own health crisis, but it's a very long and involved process. That's a good thing in many ways. It shouldn't be too easy to do something so big. You know how you can go to a car dealership these days and literally walk away with tens of thousands of debt and a shiny new car within hours, thinking "That was way too easy"? Yeah, fortunately or unfortunately, kidney donation isn't like that. Anyway, #1 is successfully completed and it's almost time for #2 which is going to be tough - the surgery I just have to show up and endure, but the recovery will take some work. #3 is the big unknown, and of course this applies to Dustin even more so than me. The words I remember regarding that were from Dr. Perrone, a colleague of my brother Seth (a nephrologist who is the unsung hero in all this -- I will write about him another day!), who described living donation and transplant this way: "Most of the time, this works out extremely well." That sentence speaks volumes. Another phrase that stuck out to me was Seth's, about living donation, "It’s a wonderful, complicated thing." Yes, yes, it is. It is both.
It has occurred to me on more than one occasion that kidney donation has much in common with joining the military. Relating to those same three big parts, #1 is the testing, qualifying, recruiter coordination, military entrance processing, and preparing for the big day. #2 is getting through basic training or boot camp, skills training, and whatever else they have you do. #3 is then living the rest of your life as a military member and/or veteran. #3 has some unknown risks. Most of the time, it works out extremely well. There are a lot of benefits to military service. But you also have to be willing to take on the risk that it might not turn out well. You have to be willing to give all.
On other things... yesterday was wonderful -- a surprise luncheon from my work team to send me off. I had no idea they were doing that. I thought I was going to lunch with two friends, but when I arrived there were 20+ co-workers and spouses, several former/retired co-workers, 4 family members, and several gym friends. They gave me sweet and thoughtful gifts, said really nice things, bought our lunch, made cupcakes with donor ribbons and cute kidney decorations, and gave me a card with some wonderful messages. It was quite incredible and so heart-warming!! I appreciate all of them! I told Dustin he is gaining yet another family. Earlier in the day my 98-year old grandmother emailed me and said of Dustin, "After Monday he will be FAMILY, a blood relative." So true. So he gets all of my family, and now my work family also.
I also got a LOT of online messages yesterday - email, Instagram, Facebook, text - I appreciate each and every one of them. They make me happy and help me stay strong. Of all the things I hear from others about this, "inspired" is one of my favorites. This is true of strength training also, and is the reason I don't mind people knowing what I do, even if humility might tell me to be quiet about it. I've changed in this way as I've matured, but it's actually because I think LESS about myself (not less OF myself). Let me explain. I would describe my younger self as "self conscious." This is a not-pleasant condition where a person tends to shy away from view, have concern over what people might think of them, and generally feel uncomfortable with any sort of attention. But sometime about middle-age, I realized that "self-conscious" is actually a form of self-absorption, and the antidote was to let go of constraints on what I'm letting out and just be more concerned with other people than with myself. It works. I just "do me" and let people take from it what they want. If it is inspired, that is a great honor. Inspired means they are spurred to action towards a positive thing. If I can inspire people towards helping others, being strong and healthy, prioritizing the important things in life, or just doing what their heart tells them to do, that's all good. Someone might even be inspired to donate a kidney. I was inspired by Leilani! Here's a link to the story if you haven't seen it.
One more thought for today then I must get ready to travel. Mom and I were talking yesterday about something we might do when she comes up to Oklahoma at the end of my stay to drive me back home. She has become interested in Oklahoma history recently via some of my stepfather Steve's family connections. In their research they've learned about the relocation of Native Americans in the 1830s, namely the Choctaw and Chickasaw Nations. She said it's eerie how many of the names that we have here on the Mississippi Gulf Coast are also seen up there in Oklahoma; the creeks, parks, woods, counties, etc. So it seems that there is already an established history of transplant from Mississippi to Oklahoma. I suspect there is more symbolism and knowledge yet to be gained from that.
Ready to learn and absorb more in the coming days. Can't wait to see Dustin, Kenzie, and Ben tomorrow! With all the events surrounding this thing, we are at the center of it -- and in the eye of the storm, the winds are calm, the sky is blue, and the world is peaceful... at least for a brief time.
“In the Old Testament the kidneys… are primarily used as a metaphor for the core of the person, for the area of greatest vulnerability” (https://www.karger.com/Article/PDF/13434). In Traditional Chinese Medicine they are storehouse of “pre-natal” Qi that you inherit from your parents and associated with the emotion of Fear. Berger’s disease demands an over production of the “protective” protein IgA. The intersection of these has long drawn my interest.
--What happens when protection of vulnerability is taken too far?--
There is some liberation from being vulnerable, to being laid open. My recent reckoning of strength is something akin to a willingness to be vulnerable. Some folks were concerned after yesterday’s post that I am sad or depressed. No. No, I willingly did an important sad thing. I cried while doing it, but wouldn’t you hope to? I wouldn’t rob anyone the richness of that experience even myself.
Echoing Anna’s sentiments. I don’t feel particularly excited (a frequent question) but content and accepting. We are focusing on preparing for the time away from home and have a plan. I little confidence in the plan itself (unless you have done this before, how could you) but utter confidence in the folks around me. Chiefly, I have been just trying to pay attention.
A few days ago at the grocery store I rationalized that I might need some Halo Top Ice Cream for stress-relief this week, so I got two pints. I haven't felt the stress but I did consume the ice cream. Now I have to keep my cool until we depart! Dale says he'll get me a half gallon of Breyer's mint chocolate chip if I need it. Oh no... I could easily eat that, too. There's a reason I don't normally buy ice cream.
Still trying to figure out my relative lack of anxiety a few days out from major surgery to have an organ removed (with a few hundred people remotely cheering -- yes, I do appreciate you!!), but I started to figure something out yesterday: the relationship between preparedness and mindfulness. Although preparedness is thinking through what's going to happen, and mindfulness is accepting whatever does happen, these two things that seem like opposites can actually work together. Looking at preparedness first; this has to do with knowing what's going to happen to particular degree that makes YOU comfortable (a degree that might be different for everyone). So it might involve looking at maps and schedules, researching places or people, asking questions and getting satisfactory answers, reducing risks and planning for contingencies. It might be visualizing how things will play out. Ideally this is all in a productive way, visualizing and thinking through the "happy path" or how you want things to go and making you feel positive about it, and not visualizing all the things that can go wrong. I try to think of all the possibilities, but with the negative ones I don't visualize or take them all the way through the mental exercise. As far as all those other things, I tend to do them as needed in whatever time I have available, until I feel satisfactorily prepared. We've had a month since approval and we've been on this path for almost 6 months now, so has been plenty of time for preparedness.
Mindfulness is the opposite in many ways because it involves taking things as they come. Being mindful is not being judgmental or overly reactive; instead, just responding as best you can to the present moment. It might seem that you could best "do" mindfulness if you had no expectations; if you hadn't thought through what was going to happen or formed any mental pictures in your mind. You could just let events unfold, having no idea what was coming but just attending to each thing as it does. On the flip side, if you do prepare and you let these two things work against each other, you could spend all your mental energy being perturbed about the differences between what you "thought" was going to happen and what is actually happening. But this is rarely productive unless the analysis of this difference would teach you some valuable lesson about how your method of collecting or analyzing information was lacking.
What I propose, and I think I've put more and more into practice as I've gotten older (I'm over a half century old, by the way... does that make me "wise"?) is that if you let go of concern or preoccupation about that difference between what you EXPECTED and what IS, the preparedness and the mindfulness can work together. Preparedness gives you a big picture and overall idea, getting you basically in the right vicinity so that you can comprehend the more subtle aspects instead of spending all your effort orienting yourself to the larger ones. Mindfulness then lets you pay attention to the details because you already have the big picture. You can attend to the meaning behind the events, observe and understand your own reaction to them, and process them more objectively and less reactively. The result of this combination is less stress in the moment, more value taken, and a feeling of "going with the flow" because you already knew the direction of the current.
And if all else fails, go for the ice cream. :)
Just a few days left, and a few things left to do before travel on Saturday. Almost ready.
Anna Cannington has offered to be part of this program. As a kidney donor with a nephrologist brother (not to mention next level human) she will be able to provide unique insight into "other side" of the transplant process. It is particularly apt for her to join up as she is Dustin's Donor. To schedule a conversation with either of Anna or Dustin just connect with either of us!
Dustin was diagnosed with IgA nephropathy (Berger's Disease) in early 2007. He and his family know well the struggles that come with suffering kidney failure, dialysis and the transplant processes. Born from these fustrations and Dustin's love of strengths-based coaching (centered on what is best in people) comes the Kidney Koach program. This NO FEE program is for Renal patients, their families and nursing staff that want support, understanding and a little help on the path.