3 years, 25,228,800 Breaths. These are the gifts that Keith has been given.

3 years ago...

I was sitting in a waiting room at Toronto General Hospital, waiting for the word that the surgery was done, and that I could go and see Keith.  

12 days before transplant.  

11 days before transplant

That day was one of the most peaceful days of my life.  I had been in a whirlwind for weeks, living with uncertainty and fear, but doing my best to keep things together - for everyone, but most of all, for Keith.  We were in a no mans land, living each day wondering what the next would bring, not wanting to say what we feared, but knowing that it could happen any time.

His body was done.  His lungs were done.  The doctors were pushing for ECMO and I was saying NO.  His will was strong, he was so determined to keep going, that I wanted him to keep and use his own lungs as long as possible, until his hero came along.

Days before transplant.  His body was shot. 

Dr. Hsin writing "L" and "R" on his chest!
Just to be sure the lungs were in the right spot!

On the evening of January 28th, the call came in.  There might be lungs.

What followed, from about 10 p.m. until 6 a.m. was a quiet evening in the ICU room, with visits from time to time from nurses and doctors saying that they still didn't know if everything was a "go".  At 5 in the morning, everything was confirmed, and Keith was prepped for surgery.

7 1/2 hours later, Keith was out of surgery and by 7:00 that night I was holding his hand.

Seeing him breathe again, knowing what had happened, knowing that he had been gifted with the most precious of gifts ever, filled me with so much emotion that it still brings tears to my eyes as I write this.

 Happy 3rd Lungiversary my darling husband.  Here's to 25,228,800 more breaths, and more after that.  Each one is a blessing.

Thank you, donor.

You too can be a hero.  Visit beadonor.ca and register in Ontario.

Letter from Keith's donor's wife.  (who we
later met, along with the rest of his family)

Healthy, Happy, and loving life!

Written by Sarah Taylor 

Has it really been just 10 days?

How is this even possible?  Three words.

On January 17th, Keith was brought to TGH, on a ventilator, unable to speak, his body ready to give up.  

Years of deterioration and infection had rendered his lungs completely unable to power his body anymore.  Keith had the will to continue, but his body was not cooperating.  

For 12 days, Keith was in and out of coherent thoughts.  Days went by when he was merely a shell, with a machine that breathed in and out for him, his mind addled by medications and his body fighting to keep him here.  

When I was with him, I was strong.  When I spoke to family and friends, I was strong.  The nurses, media, and strangers couldn't believe how I remained calm, dignified, and even smiled and laughed when I was with him.  How did I do it?

A few weeks before Keith was admitted, an old school friend told me she wanted to give me something.  A talisman.  I admit, I figured I was going to get some smooth rock carving made by an inuit.  I had no idea.  Two days after he was brought in, she brought by my present.  It was a simple silver chain, with three charms on it.  

Faith

Hope

Love

I'm a pretty simple girl when it comes to jewellery.  I've worn the same gold chain for the past 13 years.  I took it off, and put this on.  I touched each talisman and said the words to myself, and then out loud.  This is what would get me through.  

First - Faith.  Faith in God, faith in people, faith in our doctors.  I had to have it, otherwise there was no...

Hope.  Hope that the call would come, that Keith would hold on, that life would continue so that

Love could continue.  My mantra continued throughout each day.  It charged me.  It propelled me to continue to move forward.  Faith. Hope. Love.  

On January 29th, Keith received the gift of life in the form of a pair of gorgeous (I have on good authority) lungs.  A simple decision that was supported by a family.  There was Hope.  My Faith continued to give me strength.  My Love for humanity grew.  

February 7, 2013

Keith is now in a room down on the 7th floor, less supervision, fewer bells and whistles connected to his body.  No oxygen during the day, (possibly at night).  Two chest tubes still in and his bad sense of humour firmly intact.  

Now our hospital days are spent doing more walking, follow up doctor appointments, x-rays, more follow ups with doctors, getting some much needed rest (it's a much quieter floor than the 10th!) and healing.  

Every day is a gift.  Every moment is precious.  And yesterday, Keith finally asked me about some timelines.  He wanted to know why I was saying that he had been in the hospital for three weeks.  I had to tell him that he had been here for 12 days, in and out of consciousness, and that I had been by his side for the entire time.  He looked at me, puzzled, and began to weep.  "How did you stay sane?", he asked.  I pointed at my necklace.  "Faith.  Hope.  Love.  There was no other option for me,  I have you back now.  

Eternal gratitude to the donor.  

Whats going on? January 26/13

ICU  - Day 9

Busy week here.  For some reason (gee, I cannot imagine why) my creative juices just don't seem to be flowing the same way they usually do.  I am trying to work past it to get this information out to everyone as clearly as possible.  

Yesterday, Keith's mouth tube for the ventilator was moved and a tracheostomy was performed to give him some relief from the tube at the top of his throat.  Essentially, now he breathes through the stoma in his neck, and he is still on the ventilator moving between pressure control and support.  The difference between these is that on pressure control, the ventilator is doing all the work of him breathing, when he is able - a good portion of the time - pressure support just gives him a little "boost" to ensure that each breath in and out goes smoothly.  

The upside of this is that I can now see (and this morning, KISS) his beautiful clean shaven face, and his throat can heal so he is a little more comfortable.  He can mouth words to me, and when the incision heals better, (it is a little tight now, due to the area healing) he should be more comfortable.  

After his tracheostomy, the nurse inserted what is known as a PICC line.  Coolest part of this, apart from the fact that it reduces the number of IV points that he has to have on his hands and arms, and doesn't need to be changed for months, the nurse doing the procedure, asked me and my daughter (who had surprised me with a visit home from university) if we wanted to watch the procedure.  VERY COOL.  

Grey's got nothing on these two

So we "suited up" and gave the camera our best double selfie pose and prepared to be amazed.  

Remember when they told us in the early 90's that all these kids playing with video games were going to be doctors and doing surgery with this technology?  They were right.  

I'll probably botch this, and please do not attempt this procedure at home.  

They took an ultrasound of Keiths upper arm and located the veins (NOT arteries, cause they are going the wrong way) The veins are wide open, the arteries pulse.  Very cool to watch.  They carefully marked the area where they needed to insert the initial canula (I think thats what this needle is called).  They measured the length of line they would need to get to the big momma vein. Then they draped Keith's body entirely with a small area exposed where the insertion was going to take place.  

Using the ultrasound as a guide, the canula was inserted, and then the PICC line was cut to size and inserted.  There was a sensor on the end of the line that showed up on a computer screen and it was literally like a video game where she gently pushed the line in, and you saw it moving along where it needed to go on the screen.  A couple of twists and turns and TAA DAA!  It was in place.  

There's a Keith under all that :)

The nurse who was doing the job was amazing, allowing us to watch the process from beginning to end.  Only trick was we werent allowed to faint.  We passed!

After this, Keith was still pretty sedated from his trach, and the snow was coming down like crazy.  I said my goodbyes and we drove home in the crazy snow!  (Friday night)

SATURDAY-

Best part of today - bar none - was coming in this morning and kissing my baby on the lips.    It cannot be described but not being able to kiss him for 9 days, this made my day.  

Tomorrow is another day.  The waiting continues.  The faith, hope and Love continue.  

Want to know how you can help? 3-4 easy steps!

How can we help?

FLIPSIDE OF THESE

This is the question that I am asked the most.  What can I do to help?  Here are the answers:

1. THROW AWAY THESE!

 2.  Grab THIS

REMEMBER THESE?  YEP, WE DUTIFULLY SIGNED THEM AND HAD A CONVERSATION WITH OUR FAMILIES.  GOOD ON YOU IF YOU HAVE THEM STASHED IN YOUR WALLET.

NOW THROW THEM OUT.  Really, toss them.  They are useless.

3. FLIP.   See "DONOR' 'DONNEUR'?

If you see Donor / Donneur, you are golden.  You can stop, have a coffee or glass of wine and maybe chocolate.  You are registered! 

DONT SEE DONOR?  SEE NEXT STEP

GO TO beadonor.ca AND REGISTER.  2 MINUTES.  THEN YOU GET YOUR CHOCOLATE.  

At which point you kiss your loved one, have them do the same as above, and you both enjoy your day knowing you can save up to 8 lives and enhance the lives of 75 more through tissue donation!  Wasn't that easy?? 

Please "like", share, and spread the word on Facebook at Lungs for Keith to Breathe   Each "like" helps the internet to LOVE this page, which increases awareness for this incredibly important cause.  Share with the WORLD: because we can!  Share the hashtag #forKeith2breathe on Twitter.  Thank you all from the bottom of our hearts.  

#forKeith2breathe