We were given a transplant date for August. Sadly I caught Covid which meant it couldn’t go ahead. After all the anxiety and tests and stress we went through, to have an end date confirmed, only to have it moved at the last minute – that really broke me. Luckily though, they were able to get another date exactly a month later.
We were admitted to the Queen Elizabeth the day before the surgery. I was really excited! I’d never had an operation before, but had been told what to expect by my coordinator. Funnily enough, all my nerves had dissipated. I was like a giddy little kid!
My sister was quite quiet. I know she felt guilty asking this of her sister, which she didn’t need to feel at all. I wanted to donate my kidney to her, and didn’t want her worrying. When they wheeled my bed away to go to surgery I pretended I was driving the bed with a steering wheel, trying to make her laugh!
I woke up after the operation and definitely knew I’d donated a kidney. I immediately tried to sit up and – urf! It certainly wasn’t comfortable as my body got used to living with one kidney.
I didn’t get to see Donna on the day of the op, but was told everything had gone well. The physio arrived to get me moving and out of the bed; I said I really wanted to walk to Donna’s ward, just down the hall. I just wanted to hug her – though I still couldn’t move much!
I got there with the physio’s help. She was sitting uncomfortably because of the operation scar, but I could immediately see she was just her best self again. The colour had returned to her face. I was so happy to see her well, and she was really happy to see I was okay. It was a very emotional moment.
