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9 children, 9 wonders, 9 gifts from Life. A mix of children born from body-soul-heart. I was blessed with childbirth 5 times. Then came a miracle: international adoption from Vietnam. Some of us just took different paths. From a strong desire to make a difference in the lives of the poor in Vietnam came Twins for Hope. A way to give, to pay it forward. Who can't make time to lend a hand? Is 9 children a lot? Not so much. One more child just means adding one more potato in the pot!
Monday, September 5, 2016
Tuesday, July 5, 2016
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
Putting a Face on Organ Donation
Our appeal to find live liver donors for both twins traveled
around the world almost at the speed of light.
Messages landing by the hundreds in my Facebook account set up for the
twins (https://www.facebook.com/Liver-Transplants-for-our-Vietnamese-Twin-Girls-1401239010168456/)
came from people from all kinds of different ethnic backgrounds. People of all races, of all ages, both men
and women, speaking all kinds of different languages: all united by the same
desire to make a good deed.
When Binh went in to receive her gift of life in the form of
a liver coming from a live anonymous individual, I started to fantasize about
who that person might be. Was this
person a mother herself, pushed by compassion, solidarity, and the realization
that this could very well happen to her own children? Or was this person a father like my husband,
inspired by what Michael did and wanting to help us out? Could this person be a young man with a
bright future ahead of him and a strong desire to make the world around him a
better place? Or was this person a young
woman who had been personally affected by someone in need of an organ donation?
Whoever that person might be, I had come to accept that they
might or might not reach out to us. I
suspected they would probably follow the Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/Liver-Transplants-for-our-Vietnamese-Twin-Girls-1401239010168456/)
if they wanted to follow Binh’s progress.
The mystery did not last for very long. A few weeks after Binh’s liver transplant, an
anonymous person, hidden behind a false identity, revealed to me the identity
of the donor, in a private message. I
remember feeling enraged for having the donor’s identity thrown at me. The name and face of that special person was to
be forever engraved in my memory. I remember
feeling concerned for the donor who wanted to remain anonymous. I also remember feeling like I was betraying
the donor: I knew who they were, but could not say anything.
I tried carrying on for months with this secret in my heart,
unsuccessfully. I became consumed with
the idea of this missing family member, especially around bigger family
events. The weight of the anonymity
became unbearable. However, with deep
respect, I made a plea to myself to wait the person out. I worked on trying to accept that they might
never reach out.
I went through months of sadness and emotional pain. All I wished was to be able to say thank you in person to that special person for saving my daughter’s life. Was that person feeling the same distress for not being able to witness her progress in real life?
Fortunately, the curse of knowing who this person was, slowly became
a blessing as we started to exchange in private written conversations,
discovering our common views on Life. It
became a well-coordinated dance with words, like a tango, always mindful of the
other while sharing deeper thoughts, always in respect. But never mentioning the organ donation.
I believe that from that moment on, we both decided we had
to eventually break the silence. Thanks to social media, thanks to the
anonymous person who revealed to me in the first place who the donor was, we
were able to reach that turning point. Binh’s
donor and our family were able to meet.
Our meeting has turned better than expected. Our family has gotten bigger with this new
member joining in. The mystery person was demystified, in simplicity and naturally. We are grateful for
what Life has given us. Binh will be
able to grow up with this person as part of her life, and this person will have
the joy to see the product of the hardship they went through to save her life.
What is to be said of those donors and recipients who have
never made the headlines and who might suffer in silence from not being able to
bring closure? How are they supposed to
find each other on their own, without any support? While we understand the
position of the Program on the respect of the anonymity status, we also believe
each case has to be treated individually, in order to ensure the well-being of
all parties involved. We understand that not all stories will end like ours.
Let’s face it: we were particularly lucky to be such an excellent match of
characters on top of being a perfect organ match. However, we each have lived
through the imposed silence and believe it is the responsibility of live organ
donation programs in the various institutions operating such programs to ensure
both recipients and donors are well taken care of.
Sunday, March 20, 2016
The Tale of a Second Transplant
Like us on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/Liver-Transplants-for-our-Vietnamese-Twin-Girls/1401239010168456
(The exact date of Binh’s transplant surgery will remain a cherished little secret between the donor and us.)
(The exact date of Binh’s transplant surgery will remain a cherished little secret between the donor and us.)
My daughter Rose, Binh and I
left Kingston by train 2 days before Binh’s transplant, loaded with our personal
items as well as with a lot of medical supplies. Pre-transplant, each girl was on quite the
medication regimen and also still had a gastric tube, which in itself requires
a lot of gear: feeding pump, IV pole and dressings of different kinds. In addition, we had no idea of how long I
would stay in Toronto, so I brought many different things to make life at
Ronald McDonald House (RMH) more comfortable.
Michael, still weakened by Phuoc's transplant, stayed in Kingston with Phuoc on daily homecare nursing, grammie and the rest of the children.
We arrived at Toronto Union
and met with a friend who had offered to drive the gear to RMH for me. An organized, thoughtful and well-planned
Service Woman, she had also bought a few things to garnish our mini
fridge. Once at RMH, we settled our room
and made our beds. With suppertime
approaching, Rose, Binh and I headed out and walked randomly (Binh was
comfortably being pushed in her stroller…).
We decided on some Thai food in a cute little spot on Dundas.
I remember watching Binh: she
had no idea of what was happening. I
remember thinking of how nervous Michael got in the days leading up to surgery:
the only times I had seen him that nervous was when we bought our first house,
and prior to his first tour in Afghanistan.
I remember having a thought for the donor: how was he or she feeling? Binh barely ate. Liver disease made her nauseous to the point
she had no interest in eating.
We went back to RMH to prep
the meds and prepare her pump for the night.
We snuggled in bed and binged on free cable tv.
Binh was admitted the next
morning, the day before transplant. Many
tests were done on that day to make sure she was ready for the ordeal. Stool sample, chest x-rays, bloodwork upon
bloodwork, and finally, some IV lines were inserted early evening. Never an easy thing to do with the twins. The IV team came in the room, ready for the
challenge. She earned an Elsa crown and
wore it with pride. Rose walked back to
RMH before dark and I stayed with Binh on 6A at Sick Kids. It all seemed too familiar, having been
through the same thing with Phuoc.
However, with Phuoc, I knew Michael would show up for sure. Would our donor show up for Binh? I can’t believe I ever had doubts. I remember asking Life to give this person
the strength needed to go through so much.
They were going towards the unknown.
But I had seen Michael…
I woke Rose up by phone the
morning of the transplant at 7h00 to hurry her to the hospital. Binh was still sleeping. The transplant nurse came in and told me the
donor had arrived across the street. I
cried so much. Relief, and fear for him
or her. ''Who would do such a thing for
my daughter… This little orphaned girl
who was given so little credit at first…'' Crazy thoughts were going through my
mind.
Timings are blurry. Rose arrived and we waited quite a while
before heading to the holding area with Binh.
Once there, she got quite agitated and was given a sedative. She became limp and heavy in a matter of
seconds. I met with the OR team and was
explained once more how things would go.
Binh being basically unconscious made it easier. Also, there was no camera crew in the room,
unlike the first time around. The whole
event was kept under wrap. I kissed my
Beauty good luck, watched her go and cried.
Again.
Rose kept me busy, although I
have no memories of what happened until 3h00 pm. I realized then that things were not matching with the first time around.
The liver had not been transferred yet from Toronto General. Was everything ok? Was the donor ok? It’s at 3h15 pm that I got confirmation that
the liver had just been transferred and that the donor would be out in a few
hours. Binh had been all prepped (it
takes up to 2 hours to insert all the lines and prep for the actual
transplant). ''Beautiful liver'' I was
told. Good job Donor on being a healthy
person!
Binh’s surgery took 10
hours. I met the doctor late that night
it seems. I remember some of the words
coming out of his mouth: ‘’New liver on the bigger size, smaller hepatic artery
than anticipated for Binh, micro surgeons called in, abdominal wall closed,
g-tube kept, ICU for up to a week’’. All
in all, relief that she was most likely to pull through, like her twin sister.
I was able to see her in ICU
a while after. Beautiful little doll who
had gone trough so much. A vision all
too familiar to me.
I walked back to RMH that
night, just staring at the windows around where Michael’s room was a while
ago. I knew that that person was in
absolute pain. I was hoping that someone
was with him or her to advocate for his or her needs. That person’s gratification was to know they
had saved a little girl’s life. Totally
unselfish act of heroism. They would not
get the gratification of an embrace with Binh a few days later like Michael had
with Phuoc. This still blows me away. But they sent their love our way, through the team.
The first day after surgery
is referred to as day 1. I made my way
to the ICU with Rose early in the morning (always saluting our donor in my
heart as I was walking in front of TGH), after having phoned overnight to see
how she was. Binh had a much more
difficult time than her sister. She had
to be tied to the bed for much longer as she only had one idea in mind: pulling
all tubes out, including the breathing tube.
My little lion, my fighter. Heavy
sedation and morphine were the only solution.
As mentioned before, the liver was a bit big for her and this made
breathing trickier. In addition, she
suffered from partial paralysis of her diaphragm. This happens in 10% of cases. I was allowed to hold her in my arms for a
brief moment. First liver ultrasound was
done and the results were A-1. New liver
was working beautifully.
Day 2: Her breathing tube was removed. Shortly after, she had a big seizure. That took us all by surprise. CPAP was brought in to help with her
breathing, until the diaphragm wakes up and starts working on its own. Eyes started to clear, orange tinge fading away.
Day 3 and day 4: breathing
therapy with CPAP on around the clock. Once Binh was no longer attached to her bed to restrain her, I never ever saw her scratch again. Itching disappeared right away.
Day 5: Off CPAP! But still in ICU. By this time, I was thinking our donor might
be on discharge avenue… Always sending
good vibes his/her way…
Day 6: Binh had her first
post transplant poop. ½ white (typical
of liver disease), ½ brown, a sign of a good working liver! Mom even took a picture! Discharge from ICU and move to 6A: victory! Xanthomas started to ''melt'' on her knuckles.
All the time Binh was in ICU,
I went back to RMH to sleep at night.
This went on as long as she was on one on one nursing.
Day 7: Fever started, with her wound leaking. Her intra jugular lines also got
infected. On top of that, we started to
work on weaning from morphine. This is
not fun to witness.
Day 8: her true self came
back. In a bad mood, she showed the exit
door of her room to the well meaning clown, and put mommy in the doghouse.
Day 9: first walk to the
playroom! Later that day, insertion of picc line. A surgery in itself.
Day 10: She became lethargic
with a low haemoglobin. The culprit:
Passenger Lymphocyte Syndrome. The
residual white blood cells from the donor started to attack her red blood
cells. The donor was blood type O and
Binh is blood type A. She received
transfusions of type O blood to calm down and satisfy the donor’s white cells
until they die. Fascinating.
Day 11 is when we got her
dressed for the first time.
More episodes of low
haemoglobin happened, with more transfusions in the following days.
I walked in front of TGH that
day and saw people obviously being discharged.
Our donor was probably already gone by then.
In the mean time in Quebec
city, my father was admitted to the hospital. So was my mother. My father suffered from Alzheimer’s, mom has
heart problems. My dad’s health
deteriorated very quickly. He fell and
broke his pelvis while in hospital. As
Binh was receiving transfusions, so was he.
At the same time. I last spoke to
him 2 days before he died. He never
forgot my name and always remembered my children. He loved them all. This was the last time I heard him say my name. Had he been able to talk more, I know he
would have told me to stay with my daughter in Toronto. That’s why I stayed with Binh. I told him Binh was going to be ok. I think this might have been his green light
to stop fighting.
After his passing, Michael
made his way back to Toronto with Phuoc to allow me to attend the funeral with
our older 3 daughters. Our 4 sons stayed
in Kingston with Grammie.
Looking back, it feels like I
was hit by a truck. I remained numb for
months. An emotional wreck. But I am a master at hiding those things in
public. Some days are still very hard, especially with all those anniversaries.
This second transplant has a
happy ending though. Binh bears the
piece of liver of a wonderful person.
When I hug my little girl, it is surreal to think that she shares more
with this person physiologically than with me.
And I see the same thing when I watch Michael and Phuoc together.
Binh has never had any
rejection episode: a match from heaven!
Our story made headlines around the world: Michael and I are only the instruments, the voices speaking on behalf of Binh and Phuoc. Those two little girls who at some point had no future, have saved many lives through their sufferings.
Be an organ donor, like me. Register and make your intentions known by your friends and family. Become the voice for those waiting for the Gift of Life. Be their advocate.
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