3rd Call, and an Update

After my CT scan on the 11th of June at the BC Cancer Agency, I was ready to start my work day around 4 pm when a call came half an hour before the lesson.  It was a reminder that the transplant department has scheduled another CT scan.  I clarified that I just had one this morning, and the future scan might be a duplicate.  The clerk said she’ll check and call back.  A couple minutes before teaching, the same number called back, but on my home phone.  Instead of the same woman’s voice, it was a deep but slightly monotone man’s voice.  It was the hepatologist whom I’ve seen once many years ago. 

The meeting felt gloomy since he was serious to a point that scared me away.  I was young and didn’t take care of my body, thinking that I was okay.  So my youthful arrogance and his cold, sober, and overserious manner of talking down to me did not mix well.  I made the fatal mistake of not going to see him anymore without informing anyone.

So when he called I was shocked, agitated, and numb at the same time.  That’s when my student came in as well.  The doctor informed me that there was an available liver, but I will be going there as a backup, AND the deceased had done cocaine before non-intravenously.  With almost no time to make a decision, I tried to ask him as many questions as I can think of: “Are there any traces of cocaine in the liver? (“God no”)”, “Are there any risks involved if I’ll receive the transplant? (“Well, there are always risks”)”, “Can I get some time, maybe 30 minutes, to think about it? (“Yes”)”.

I called my mom immediately and asked if she can call one of my student who was a nurse.  She said she’ll get back to me.  I went back to start my lesson on Moszkowski’s “Etincelles (Sparks)”.  I tried my hardest to block the thoughts about the transplant and focused on the first few pages of the piece.  Avoiding the decision seemed futile as my mind was faced with a very difficult decision.  The coordinator did mention there is a possibility that the liver for the transplant might be coming from someone who might have overdosed on illegal substance or fentanyl.  I stopped the lesson and talked to one of my best friends.  He said he would go for it.  However, my gut feeling told me I should turn it down this time since a) I was the backup, and b) I was worried about the cocaine part.

So when the doctor called back 20 minutes later, I turned it down, but I felt that my body was divided into two tribes and they were fighting each other.  It was exhausting and gut-wrenching, and the decision didn’t come lightly since I had so little time to decide and I wanted to make the best decision.  However, I also had to live with the fact that I’ve turned down a possible chance to get rid of the cancerous tumor.  My mom and the people that she had talked to supported my decision and thought it was the best anyways.

Update: After making that decision, I don’t feel particularly relieved or settled.  I knew a choice had been made, but it took a couple of days before I could move forward.  To reframe the tension that the decision had brought, I need to remind myself that I had an appointment with the BC Cancer Agency a week later.  If my test results come back with bad news and my liver is deteriorating quickly, then my only choice would be the next available liver, no matter if fentanyl or cocaine was involved.  If the results come back in good shape, then I can wait for a liver that doesn’t have “baggage”.  I also know that the doctor said the cocaine use did not affect the liver, but there aren’t as many research on this topic, and what the future repercussions could be.  This uncertainty is definitely one of the reasons why I turned down the liver in the first place.

Yesterday was the appointment at BCCA, and like a grizzly bear that got off my back, I was very relieved to hear the tests were in good shape—the numbers for liver function are good so far, and the tumor seems to be controlled for the moment and not growing.  Realizing that the results could go both way, I was reminded again and again during this year that control is really an illusion.  The more I let go, the more I realize I don’t have control in the result, the less stress I’m putting on myself to be always “together” in front of people.  I can do my best in other aspects in my life such as nutrition, exercise, emotion regulation, but ultimately what will happen to my life is not something I can determine.  Once I accept that, I think I’m ready to go, if I need to.