Hometown Rankin - April & May 2016

and their medical talents. Their knowledge still amazes me.
I was put in ICU to watch for any potential problems because the
first 48-hours are critical. Will it take? Will I have complications? Will
my body reject it? But it was all fine. That was God, too. But He didn’t
stop there. I remember starting to wake up off and on, but didn’t have
a clue really where I was, what day it was, much less what in the world
was going on. I quickly noticed that I had a tube down my throat that
was connected to a ventilator. Having a mother that was a nurse who
just happened to love telling us emergency room horror stories, I knew
this wasn’t good. I also noticed that I had lots and lots of other tubes
and machines hooked up to me.
As I laid there trying to figure out what was happening and
wondering when my family would come back, I had this song pop into
my head. Anyone that knows me knows that I love praise music and
I’ve always got a tune in my head. I remember singing this song while
I was sleeping. It went like this; ‘I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive, hallelujah.
I’m alive forever, amen’ and something about ‘Death where is your sting.’
That’s all I could remember and I’d sing it over and over and over again
in my head.
Finally, my mom came in the room. For some reason, she was crying.
What was wrong? What does she know that I don’t know? What isn’t
she telling me? She called my husband to let him know that I was
awake. I remember looking at her and saying, “Where did you go?”
My mother looked at me and answered, but I didn’t hear her voice.
Instead, I heard a voice that said, “I never left you.” Again, I didn’t
think much of it at the time. I thought I was still groggy and just didn’t
hear her voice correctly.
My mom then told me what had happened. I had had a liver
transplant. I was stunned. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I didn’t
do anything wrong. Why? How? What does that mean? What now?
There were a lot of questions, but I was speechless. My mom tried to
explain it all to me, but it was almost too much to hear. By that time, my
husband was there. He tried to help me understand all of it but it was
like they were speaking Greek to me. Apparently, tests on my old liver
showed Auto-immune Hepatitis and my liver, itself, was over 70% dead.
Auto-immune Disease is when your immune system becomes defective
and decides to attack a part of the body. In my case, it was my liver.
I’d like to share with you how awesome God was through this scary
time. I was told that I would need to stay in ICU for three days. But I
was doing so well, that I was transferred out of ICU to the transplant
floor Wednesday afternoon—the next day. On the transplant floor, I
had to learn how to live from here on out. I’ve never known anyone to
have a transplant so I didn’t have anyone to compare it to. So, we started
asking questions, documenting and learning. Lots of new medicines,
routines and changes would have to be made. But I was ready for it.
After all, it sure beat the alternative.
By this time, the magnitude of what had happened and how close
I came to dying was hitting me. I started realizing that someone I didn’t
know had died and in his or her death, I gained life. That’s one of the
hardest things I think I have ever had to face. Not the recovery per se…
but the knowledge that someone died and therefore I got to live. I
hadn’t done anything remotely great enough to deserve that blessing.
I didn’t understand. So, as I was sitting alone in my hospital room
crying about it for the first time, I asked Him. “Why, God?” He simply
replied, “Why not?” I didn’t really expect an answer but His answer
was clear as day in my head. But then I realized something just as
significant; that’s the exact same voice I heard say, “I never left you.”
That was God. He never left me and He was letting me know that.
He had a reason for me to live whether I deserved it or not. That
simple answer was all it took.
I stopped crying, dried my tears up and no longer allowed myself
to question why this happened to me. He gave me the knowledge that
He had greater things in store for me. It became a mission right then
and there. I have a purpose and I’ll work until I fulfill it. But He didn’t
stop there!
Normally transplant patients stay on the transplant floor for 2 weeks.
I was able to transfer to a transplant apartment two blocks from the
hospital the following Monday–just 5 days later. The apartments were
for patients to become more independent, yet be close enough to the
hospital in case something happened and for frequent lab work. It
wasn’t home, but it was close enough. It was time to start learning to
live again and time to start learning more about my limitations and
needs. I had to learn to walk distances again, take a full shower trying
to stand up; complete daily living skills–things that we so often take for
granted. But it was worth it and I was alive!
One day, while sitting in the apartment, I began humming that
song again–you know, the one I remembered singing while I was
asleep. But I still couldn’t remember the entire song. So I Googled it.
66 • April/May 2016