A Life in Debt

I often ask myself what I did to deserve a second chance at life. I am an introspective and contemplative person in everything I do. I think and plan even if I never have the gall to do anything I’ve thought about. Now, close to a year post transplant, I find myself wondering if I deserve this gift.

I have always been egotistical with my disease. Ten years ago I wondered why: Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this? Now, healthy for the first time in my life, my questions are different but keep the same trope: Why am I lucky enough to deserve this? What makes me better than the thousands who won’t receive a liver this year? Perhaps the reflection of the question remains the same but the target has changed. Ten years ago I asked Someone what is it that made me sick and now I ask myself what can I do to make this all worthwhile.

In some aspects this feeling is a need to live up to my donor’s gift. To make it seem as if her generosity was not unwarranted. I also feel the burden of the thousands of people waiting for a transplant on my shoulders. While I was sick, even in the most excruciating and painful moments, I never thought I would die. A liver transplant just seemed like a forgone conclusion. The question that remained was merely “when” not “if”. Now, though, I sometimes wonder why I survived, what do I have to offer that so many will not.

It is a sobering and depressing thought, one that I have no real answer for. I know most of the time the thought comes in my head while I am being lazy, antagonistic, or sad. All transplant patients are given a gift and we have to make the most of it. It’s a responsibility and a debt, that perhaps, some of us are not willing to undertake. Before transplant you never really think what life will be like after you receive an organ. And, in defense of that, I never really was taught otherwise. And so, I can find it plausible, although I hope not to take the same course, to falter from that responsibility and debt, to stop to taking your meds, to relapse. I hope I can live up to those expectations, most of them my own, and have a true upgrade in every sense of the word.

Donor Letter

Dear Love One,

I wanted to share the great news that my wife and I recently gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. Our excitement at the birth of our babies felt incomplete until we could share it with you and your family. If it was not for your loved one, we would not be here today celebrating this miracle.

Last year we received the news that we were expecting twins. Our joy was immeasurable. However, a few months earlier we had found out my liver was quickly failing after 12 years with Primary Schlerosing Cholangitis. On the one hand we were ecstatic at the thought of having babies but we were also worried what the next few months would bring. Would I receive my transplant in time? How sick would I be by the time the babies came? Would I even make it to meet my kids? As each day passed and the delivery date slowly arrived, we became more nervous and scared.

Three months before my wife was due, we received the news that changed our lives. Thanks to you and your family, I was able to be at my wife’s delivery healthy and happy. I was able to meet my kids. I was able to hold them, to love them, and hopefully, to watch them grow up. Not a day goes by without me thinking about you and your loved one’s gift. I thank and pray for you everyday. Words can never express my true gratitude to you. I wish you well and much love.

Love always,

Yannai

You'll Understand When You're 65

This post does not go well with your July 4^th bbq. In fact, this post does not go well with food in general. Because this post is about my colonoscopy. In truth, I don’t think there is anything wrong with colonoscopies. I have to have the procedure once a year and they are harmless. I sleep through the whole thing and wake up hours later in my bed. It’s not the colonoscopy that bothers me, it’s the day before.

The day before a colonoscopy is like getting ready for battle by starving and mutilating yourself. First thing you are required to do is go on a clear-liquid diet. For someone like me, who doesn't fast even on Yom Kippur, not being able to eat solids for an entire day is tantamount to starving. The next part of the preparation depends on your doctor's instructions. Either way sucks, like deciding between Team Edward and Team Jacob, in the end there are no winners. The first option is drinking two 3 ounce bottles of Fleets Phospho Soda. I've done every which way to prepare for a colonoscopy and this is the worse. It's like pouring acid down your throat and watching your stomach burn apart. I can no longer drink ginger ale because five years ago I mixed it with the phospho soda to dilute it. To this day, when I conjure up the medicine I still gag.

The next option is Half-litely which is pretty much the same thing as the soda but diluted in a liter of water. This package comes with flavors you can add like vomit, disgusting, and lemon/lime. Most doctors prefer this method and after a few tries, I'm almost getting used to it.

The final option is in pill form. However, no doctor has ever let me take the pills. They say you have to take 30 in an hour and it's too much to ask of someone. But I would rather take a thousand pills than drink anything close to the liquid versions.

In one hundred degree weather today, I survived on Gatorade and chicken soup. I drank the half-litely and as my insides slowly melt away, I hope to get some sleep before the procedure. If there is one silver lining in all of this its that I get an extra few hours of sleep tomorrow during the procedure. You'll understand when you're 65.

Liver Life Walk 2010

It was a balmy, ninety degrees outside. The summer hit down on Battery Park like a stage light, beaming its rays through the trees. At 9 am, over 200 people committed to spreading awareness about liver disease gathered in the main area of the park. Transplant patients slapped globs of suntan lotion on their arms and face. Healthy supporters downed water like they were locked in a sauna. Over all, nearly 300 hundred people attended the Liver Life Walk in New York City on June 6^th, braving the elements to raise money and awareness about a disease that effects us all.

I decided to join the walk to put the babies in really cute outfits and show them off. As dedicated as I am to promoting organ donation and transplant news, I really wasn’t sure what the point of a walk was. But walking in the scenic area of Battery Park, adjacent to the Hudson River, in a sea of red New York Presbyterian t-shirts, you really felt like you were bringing awareness to the cause. The liver transplant group is a small but dedicated bunch. What we lack in numbers, we make up in our active involvement. And even though a few hundred people is really not a lot for a NYC walk, the determination that everyone brought to the walk helped raise over 100 thousand dollars for the American Liver Foundation.

I walked as part of team “I’m a Liver, Not a Fighter” and together we raised over 4 thousand dollars. Our team was a microcosm of the transplant community, consisting of family, friends, and someone suffering from the disease. Aviva and the babies attended the walk and brought a much needed adorableness to the cause. My parents came and supported us as always. They are as committed to bringing awareness about liver disease and organ donation as anyone else I know. Our friends also joined us and made the walk fun and exciting. Ronit, who was the originator of the blog and the person who set it up, and Michelle and Benzy, our two close friends and one of the first couples to visit me in the hospital, rounded out the team. Thank you to everyone who supported our team. It meant a lot to me and hopefully will make a big difference in our fight against liver disease.

The Team (from left) : Yannai, Viv, Oscar, Ronit, Aviva, Hindy,

Michelle, Benzy, and Steve.

Aviva, the babies, and I in our matching

"I'm a Liver, Not a Fighter" t-shirts

A Bloody Good Day

They need to test my blood. I mean they test my blood all the time. They test me for blood clotting factor, hepatic function, and kidney disease. But they need to test me for something that will change the course of History. That will help mankind. That will cure the world of a horrific disease. They need to test my blood because mosquitoes don’t bite me.

Can you imagine a world where mosquitoes don’t bite? Where the world is rid of malaria? Where you don’t have to smell like a chemical plant at a BBQ? Welcome to my world. I haven’t been bitten by a mosquito in three years. The same reason you won’t take my blood, they won’t either. As friends and family spray themselves incessantly with insect repellent and try to swat away the pesky flies, I stand unharmed with nothing to fear. I don’t leave the beach with welts the size of golf balls on my thighs, using a variety of different remedies to keep the itching at bay. In fact, I can’t really remember the last time I was bitten. Even then it was probably a mistake, a silly creature forgetting that my blood was tainted with mosquito-repellent. And so, they need to test my blood and help mankind in the process.

Have a great Memorial Day weekend.