6.30am The phone rings and I have that feeling that this it, the transplant. I shakily answer and the transplant coordinator confirms my thoughts.
I remain calm, gather my things together and am ready for the ambulance. Rob is in panic, frantically trying to get hold of our girls to no avail.
7.30am The ambulance arrives. I take a call from Rose down in Bournemouth as I clamber in, tell her I love her. I don’t even know if I will ever see her again, knowing you might be having your heart and lungs removed that day is a terrifying, daunting and most frightening thing.
I focus on the task in hand, say goodbye to Rob as he puts bags and cases in his car to follow us. I take a deep breath and take what could be my last long lingering look at my home. Will I be coming back today? Will I ever come back?
8.30am I’m greeted by the transplant coordinator and told if all is good on the final examination of the organs, then they will be mine and they’ll go ahead with the transplant. Meanwhile two other patients have been brought in, just in case the heart is no good and they can still use the lungs, or the lungs aren’t viable, so they can use the heart. Hopefully someone’s life is going to be saved today. Will it be mine?
10.30 Sarah arrives to be with us. Oli is on his way to Bournemouth to pick up Rose. The transplant coordinator keeps popping in, so far, so good. We wait and wait. I’m not allowed to eat and drink.
12 noon It’s still looking good. A doctor comes to see me. I sign all the consent forms again, as he talks me through each one. I’ve already signed these when I went on the list in case of emergency, but good to go through it all again perhaps. I’m told to get ready, gowned up and given my first immosuppression medications, but we’re still waiting for those final tests.
1pm It’s a go, I’m wheeled down to theatre in a chair wrapped in a warm blanket, Rob and Sarah follow me and we say our goodbyes. I’ve gone into autopilot, I cannot think about any of the ‘what ifs’. I’m just ready to put myself into the lap of the Gods and the surgeons.
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… I count down as the anaesthetic takes hold…
September 2019 Norfolk
6.30am I wake to the sound of pattering tiny feet coming down the stairs. Little Freddie comes bursting into the bedroom shouting, ‘Grandma, grandma!’ He clambers by my bedside and holds out his arms to be pulled up in bed with us. We make up games and play, no chance to be half asleep, he’s wide awake and raring to go for the day.
8am More movement upstairs, some loud gurgling from Darcy, soon Sarah arrives in the bedroom holding our gorgeous granddaughter in her arms. Darcy beams us the most beautiful smile. Freddie goes with Sarah to have breakfast and we enjoy cuddles with Darcy next.
9am We’re all up and about, all of us here together again, six years on. Six whole years, a long time ago, but so fresh in our minds. Rob, me, Sarah and Oli, Rose and David – all together again. Plus we now have Freddie and Darcy our little grandchildren and we also have Ted our much loved cocker spaniel and Finn, Sarah and Oli’s cocker spaniel puppy. We’ve grown in numbers since that day six years ago.
10am We are all together having breakfast, sat round a big table in one of our favourite Norfolk pubs, babies, dogs and all. We chat and laugh and joke and it’s so good to be away on holiday and all together for this special weekend. Rob and I celebrated our 29th wedding anniversary yesterday, today it is six years since my life saving heart and double lung transplant and tomorrow it will be Rob’s birthday.
We have seen so many family milestones, enjoyed so many special times together and life has progressed so much and moved on for us all. We are celebrating life today, all our lives, my life and my donor’s life. We are forever grateful to my donor, their family and the staff at Royal Papworth Hospital for making all of this possible.
And that is the power of organ donation.