Where to start?

This post's title is really how I feel when approaching this blog. I put off writing yesterday because I really had no idea how to use words to encompass what has happened over the last several days. I suppose the longer I put it off, the harder it will get to summon words of an exact nature, so here we go...

Rene and I were both mainly excited going into the surgery. Our friends and family did (and are doing) such a good job surrounding us with love and positive thoughts. Even down to the wire, they were thinking of things to do to care for us; all of Team RenJen was able to get together for a last minute dinner at Barb and Jean's house the Monday night before surgery. Great food (well, I had to put a hold on eating at 5, so my "great food" was a wine glass full of magnesium citrate--but everyone else seemed to love Jean's cooking) and much laughter was had, followed by an exchange of beautiful words of support and love while we all held hands, basked in the Boston sunset.

I was at the hospital at 5:45 the next morning and Rene followed shortly after at 6:15. We were in separate wings of the massive Mass General campus, so we exchanged a few texts while we both waited, but I was carried away to the OR by about 7:00. I'd say this was probably one of the hardest parts for me. I had to chill out on the stretcher in my OR's induction area (the area right outside of the operating room where they usually anesthetize people) for about an hour and a half before I was put under. It was here that my fear really began to grow and the tears couldn't be held back. Luckily, the nurses in the OR were wonderful, and they all took turns sitting with me, comforting me, and giving me tissues. My experience overall with the nurses at MGH was an extremely positive one, and only makes me want to pursue my own career in nursing even more.

I was finally wheeled into my OR around 8:30, after being given an injection of an anxiety medicine through IV. I tell ya what, if we could all have an injection of that at stressful moments, the world would be a better place! It felt more like I was being wheeled into a magic castle than a place where my organs would be shifted around and one removed. I was moved onto the operating table, I looked around the room a bit, was told I'd start to feel sleepy.....

And that's it! Apparently my surgery ended around 12:30 or so and I was in the recovery room of the hospital for a few hours before they wheeled me up to my room. I only really remember the last hour of being in the recovery room. Maybe this is better, as the things I do remember include telling the nurses I thought I was supposed to be waking up in New York (???), profusely apologizing about not being able to open my eyes to look at the people around me, crying even though I didn't know why--but explaining to the nurses that "My mom said this might happen," and asking in disbelief if the surgery was really over (it felt like 5 minutes had gone by!).

Finally, around 3:30 or so, I was wheeled up to my room on the transplant floor of the hospital. Another embarrassing crying story here: the transporters originally took me to the wrong wing and when I realized this, I started crying. They rushed over and started asking me if I was okay, if I was feeling nauseous, etc, etc, to which I responded "I just wanna see my family!"

It was incredibly good to see my mom, dad, and little brother. I don't think I've ever been so glad to have them by my side. The first day after surgery was a hard one--I was, of course, in pain, the pain medicine they gave me kept giving me hot flashes, and I was pretty nauseous for a bit. But having my family with me made it feel one hundred times better.

This is also when I first learned that Rene was doing great! She had been in a lot of pain upon waking up, but was feeling better by the time I got to the floor and was already experiencing a nice amount of urine output from her new kidney. Along with having my family with me, this news made everything seem easier to deal with.

The days I was in the hospital got easier as they came. The first walk of the day on Wednesday was a hard one--only allowing me to get to the door of my room and back. But by the time my dad got to the hospital later in the morning, he was able to help me walk all the way down to Rene's room at the end of the hall. We both started tearing up a bit upon seeing one another for the first time--but both held back real tears, as any jolt to the abdomen is still pretty tender. By Wednesday I was also off the pain pump and taking pain meds orally, my catheter was removed, and I was freed from the blood-clot preventing leg contraptions they put on me.

On Thursday, Rene beat me down to my room for the first visit of the day! She was walking incredibly well (better than I was, I think!), was still experiencing generous urine output, and all of her numbers were only getting better. I was able to take my first shower (I needed a little help from mom to get dressed again), and then I was able to blow the joint around noon!

So I've spent the last day and a half recuperating at "my new house" in Cambridge. Dad and Ryan visited last night before leaving today. Mom continues to be my best nurse until Sunday when she leaves. Rene should get to leave the hospital tomorrow. Then I go back for a checkup next Friday and should get to leave for home afterward.

I know this post isn't extremely "deep" or thought-provoking, but I thought I would at least let y'all know some of the details of the last few days. It has been hard for me to wrap my head around all of this now that it's done, and, as you could suspect, I've also been very tired--which hasn't left me in the best place for writing. But as I start to "come to" more and more, I promise I will post more meaningful stories about the surgery and about what has come out of it. Hopefully Rene will do another guest post, too, focusing on her surgery experience. I'll also post pictures once I get back to North Carolina.

For now, thank you all so much for your support and love. We needed it more than you know!