Almost third hand

The #1 guy took the liver but it was touch and go, for a while..... a long while.

The liver arrived in SLC at 10:30pm but the #1 man was really unstable. They didn't know if he would live to the operating room. If he didn't, they would let us know.

We prayed for the man, and for the Lord's will.

Rollercoasters have nothing to offer compared to being the back up man for a transplant. It is a huge emotional pot that takes you from hoping the #1 man has a cold to praying he lives, but if he doesn't that the liver will be fine. Excitement, frustration, grief, hope, disappointment, relief, exhaustion, anxiety. Pretty much everything but sleep.

I called, again, at 1:30am. They were in surgery. The nurse said there was still a chance he might die on the table. If he did, they would just take out the liver and use it on Scott. Apparently, it's been known to happen and, again, they would let us know.

We just prayed for the man. It's one thing to win out for a liver because the other man has a cold. To become the #1 man because the other man died, is another. Also, it seems rather unlucky to get a liver third hand.

The nurse called at 5:30am. The man lived, thank you.

We will wait for another liver, but it is incredibly destablizing to be in a condition of constant waiting. I am more than a little nuts right now.

This morning, we have to meet with our 4th oncologist to start chemo, something we were most hopeful last night of skipping. I have, successfully, delayed the chemo for more than a month. Alas, it will have to be dealt with. Hopefully, the anticipation is worse than the actual chemo. The dread, itself, has been crushing. Heaven help us if it equals or surpasses expectations.