Field of Dreams Come True

     My blog has been stagnant for almost a year.  So many wonderful things have happened in that time, and I have much to write and share about those experiences, but it would be very poor form to let today pass without a post.  I am, after all, the Transplanted Dad, and today is Father's Day.  While many fun and memorable experiences occurred today, for me, nothing could quite surpass what happened last Saturday.  On our calendar, it was an unassuming family event-- picture day for my son's Little League team.  A scheduling fluke meant our son didn't have a game that day, but his team needed to get dressed in their blue and white uniforms for their team and individual photos.  Less than 48 hours before picture day, the coach sent me an email, and a dream come true was in the making.  

52 Steps to My First Vlog

I've been to many beaches since my transplant nearly two years ago-- but not this one. The first and only other time I've been to my brother-in-law's cottage, I was on the transplant list, on oxygen, and definitely not ready to face the steep stairs to the beach. 

I stayed up near the volleyball net and tried, without much success, to chase my son around while wearing a portable oxygen concentrator on my back. 

This visit was so much different. It included a lightsaber battle and races on the sand. It was so satisfying to reclaim what I'd been unable to do two years ago. 

https://youtu.be/ZeYF7zFj4ms

"Gonna Fly Now"

     This past weekend held many "firsts" for me.  My first trip to the Philadelphia.  My first time flying alone.  And, the primary reason for this post, my first time flying since the transplant.

Pot 'O Gold

     While I always enjoyed days that invited teachers and students to dress in costume or some other silly fashion, one of my favorites has always been St. Patrick's Day.  Because of the timing of my leave, in 2013 I didn't get to dress up like a leprechaun and dance a jig, which annually delighted some students and confused others.  This year, I was interested to see how 7th graders would respond.  While their initial comments when they walked in were less than positive ("You've sunk to a new low..." and "This is way over the top") at the end of class, when I was going to deliver on the jig I promised, I could tell they were more "into" it than my 10th graders had been in years past.  That is why the actual footage of me doing a jig is only one second long.  That was literally the maximum length I could share publicly without there being at least one student clapping, laughing, jumping, or actually dancing along side me.  I did the jig for 63 seconds, and my lungs didn't let me down!  Was I a bit winded?  Sure!  But wouldn't you anyone be after a minute long jig?  ;)

 

 

 

 

My Lip Sync Debut at the 1994 Pumpkin Festival

     When I was in 7th grade, I participated in a Lip Sync competition for the first time.  My best friend at the time, and both of our younger brothers (who were also best friends) collaborated on a performance of Ace of Base's "The Sign," which was incredibly popular at the time (and is still a solid pop song, if you ask me).  We won 3rd place, and I was officially bitten by the "lip sync bug."  Please forgive the quality of the video-- sometimes something is trapped on a VHS tape and your mom records it from the TV with her camera.

Here's the link to the video.  I'm the short person dancing like a fool in a blonde wig...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3KshiLGurU

What is a String Man?

"It was the role I was born to play."  I've said that in response to numerous people who have asked me, "Who is String Man?"  (and once, "What is a String Man?")  I quickly followed by explaining that the middle school orchestra needed someone to play the titular role during their performance of the song, "The Adventures of String Man."  The person in the role basically upstages the kids for three minutes and then gets to go sit down and watch the rest of the show.  It's a sweet gig.

Games Brothers Play

     Aside from baseball, football was the only other sport my brothers and I would routinely play together, just the three of us.  Basketball on our non-regulation hoop took the form of HORSE or involved the kids in my mom's day care, but we could play a reasonable facsimile of football through a game we invented and named "Interception."  The name was so chosen because that was the primary indicator of success.  For instance, if my brothers were on offense, one passing to the other, my goal was to stop them from scoring, and intercepting the pass (you are not allowed to run the ball) was the best way to do that.  When we invented the game, I could have never known it would become a Thanksgiving tradition-- one which I would enjoy more than I ever thought possible once I was no longer "benched" by the condition of my health.

Simply a Marvel

     Stane Lee, one of the creators of Spider-Man, is well known for saying "Face front, true believers!"  I feel that quote is very apropos, considering that I am sharing the official, full front angle video of my Vita Redita speech today.  The Michigan Transplant Center's Facebook page posted it Monday.  Between the video my wife made that I shared on YouTube and this official version, my speech has been viewed a staggering 2,200 times.  I am stunned by this number, and incredibly happy that the potential impact of my speech is now seven times larger than it was when I spoke the three hundred people in attendance that night. 

The link to the official video:  https://www.facebook.com/UMTransplantEvents/videos/vb.409959805373/10156299669220374/?type=2&theater

My Speech at the Vita Redita - University of Michigan Jack Roth Stadium Club, Oct. 24 2015

This is the link to the speech I gave at the Vita Redita gala on Saturday night.  It is a little over 12 minutes long.  Below, I have transcribed what I said during the speech.

     I first want to say what an honor it is to be asked to speak to all of you tonight on behalf of the Transplant Center.  Every time I speak about my transplant experience, it is for a different reason or for a different audience, and as I prepare, I always uncover new things that I'm grateful for.  Fortunately, I've had other opportunities to speak publicly about how grateful I am for my wife, my mom and dad, and my mother-in-law, all of whom have been instrumental in the journey I have been on.  So tonight with you, I can focus on how the transplant center here at the University of Michigan has restored my life.  But before I tell you about those expereinces, I'll give you a glimpse of who I was before the phrase "lung transplant" came into my life.

     Throughout elementary, middle, and high school, I was fortunate that cystic fibrosis had no noticeable detrimental impact on my life.   For those of you who do not know, cystic fibrosis is an illness that is something your born with, it's genetic, and it affects primarily your lungs and your digestive system.  And for a lot of kids, as they grow up, they are hospitalized very frequently with illness that need to be handled in the hospital.  Throughout my childhood, my parents took very good care of me, taught me how-- what it meant to be a good patient, and always do what the doctors told me to do, so that I could take care of myself.

 

      When I was in 10th grade, knew I wanted to become an English teacher and so I chose to go to Eastern Michigan University- partly because they have a good teaching school, partly because they gave me a full academic scholarship, and partly because of my doctor in Flint was transferring me and my care to the University of Michigan adult CF clinic with Dr. Simon.

 

     In 2004, at age 21, I experienced my first hospitalization, because of a severe pneumonia in my right lung.  This is when the reality of cystic fibrosis was entered my life, but it did not take center stage.

     Just a month after the hospitalization, I was off supplemental oxygen, my wife and I had our beautiful wedding that we'd been planning for months, and that fall was hired into my dream job, teaching American Literature to 10th graders.

 

     Over the years, I occasionally dealt with illnesses, and whenever those arose I listened to my doctors, and I worked through things, and knew I was in the best possible hands.  Cystic Fibrosis is a chronic, progressive illness, so although I knew on some level that things were getting worse, I was still living a full life, so it was easy to put aside what the future could potentially hold and focus on the "now."  This was especially true in 2008, when my wife gave birth to our son.

                         

      In February of 2013, I was hospitalized and assumed I'd just bounce back like I always did.  Instead, the phrase "lung transplant" not only entered my radar, it became the brightest blip on my screen.

      Once this happened, Dr. Simon gradually handed my care off to Dr. Tammy Ojo.  This was difficult, because after 15 years, he had become like part of my family.  He doesn't know this yet, but a month from now, I'll be at his house for Thanksgiving.  Don't worry, Dr. Ojo, Christmas is at my place, so we're good.

     I transferred all the trust I had in Dr. Simon to Dr. Ojo, and she and the transplant care team fully informed me regarding what I would need to know and how I would need to prepare both physically and psychologically for this intense surgery. I have a friend who is another success story to come of out the University of Michigan transplant center, and he was there to help me process this new reality all throughout.  But, like any major life event, you can't really know how things will go or how you'll react until it happens.  

After being on medical leave from work, 19 months on supplemental oxygen, and 13 months on the transplant list, I received the call on Aug. 20, 2014. I arrived at the hospital around noon and immediately was put at ease by the excitement people were expressing as they functioned like a well-oiled machine to prep me for the operation.

    The surgery itself took 16 hours, during which Dr. Jules Lin removed both of my lungs and then replaced them with the lungs from my donor.  It doesn't matter how many times I say that, it still has a surreal quality to it.  Perhaps that's because the transplant center does things on a daily basis that were impossible when this stadium was built 88 years ago.

     Like any recovery process, mine had its ups and its downs, but there was one constant: that was the abiding trust that I put into doctors, the nurses, the respiratory therapists, the physical therapists, the pharmacists, the social workers-- everyone who was there to help me recover. If we had a question, or concern, it was answered.  There was never any doubt that we were being taken care of by people who were completely invested in my success and well being.

     Less than three weeks after the surgery, I was able to return home.  My wife went to get the car, and I sat outside the hospital-- and  I realized the last time these lungs took a breath of fresh air, they were inside another human being.  At that moment virtually none of the blood in my body was actually mine-- during the surgery, I'd been given four times the amount of blood in a person's body.

I was quite literally a different person than who I was when I'd arrived at the hospital just 20 days prior.  But one thing that hadn't changed was that I would still be a good patient-- this was the start of a much longer journey, and maintaining my health would continue to be a group effort.

     In the early months, I relied heavily on the transplant care team while at home.  They had done a fabulous job of preparing me for taking all of my new medications, but more importantly they assured me that there was no such thing as a silly question.  In those first days, I spoke to my transplant coordinator Cathy more frequently than my own mother.  Even just a few weeks after the transplant, I was feeling better and breathing better than I had in years.

     This brings me to one of my favorite transplant stories.  Last spring, my nephew had a birthday party, and it was an outdoor party, and my son-- seven years old, was too busy having fun with his cousins to realize that he wasn't holding on tight enough to the string on his helium balloon.  So all of a sudden, a strong breeze comes along, takes the balloon out of his hand, and it starts to float-- I see that as my opportunity.  So I took off running as fast as I could go,  and just before the balloon was taken off into the sky forever, I snatched the string.  Thanks to the University of Michigan Transplant Center, I can literally run like the wind.

 

     One of my other favorite stories is that when my son was planning his 7th birthday party, he had one question for Dr. Ojo... he came with me to one of my appointments, and he wanted to have an ice skating birthday party and he asked Dr. Ojo, "Can my dad ice skate?"  It's a little bit like that old joke about "Can I play a piano" because I can't ice skate, even before the surgery... but I was certain that she would say no, because I have, you know, metal in my chest, and I'm not supposed to lift more than 30 pounds, and I was just, I, didn't even expect the answer to be 'yes' whatsoever, so I didn't prepare my, my son for anything, I just figured she would tell him 'no' and she could be the bad guy.  And to my surprise she said, "Of course your dad can skate at your seventh, seventh birthday party."  So in fact, I did skate at my son's birthday party, despite my trepidation, and there's some, a lovely video of that, me doing it, but, it was, ah, one of the many things I thought I'd never do, and it's all because of the U of M transplant center.

     This summer, I had one of the best experiences of my entire life, volunteering on Carnival Day at Camp Michitanki.   It all started when I received an e-mail, and the email went out to Gift of Life volunteers and asked if anyone would like to volunteer and perhaps come dressed as a clown.  So I responded to the email politely, and I said, "First of all, nobody likes clowns... and second of all, I dress up as Spider-Man occasionally at school, when it applies to Halloween, or somehow I tie it to the curriculum, or I don't have anything else that's clean in the closet.  But, I did go to Camp Michitanki as Spider-Man.  And, I think it is probably because, yeah, see, see.  I think it's because Peter Parker hasn't gained a single pound since he was created in 1962, and I've gained 40 pounds since last August, that, not a lot of the kids I interacted with, in fact only one kid believed that I am actually Spider-Man, but do you know what that means?  One kid believed that I am actually Spider-Man.  There was something even more special in store for the non-believers.  There isn't an English word to capture the emotion I felt, dressed as a super hero, leaning over to a kid who has experienced something no child should deal with, and seeing the expression on the his or her face when I'd lean over and whisper, "You know, I had a transplant too."

Because of the University of Michigan Transplant center, I was able to return to my career this past fall.  I have eased in by returning to teach part time, and was assigned to the middle school, rather than the high school where I worked for ten years.  Right away it was apparent that teaching kids who are 12 going on 13 is a little different than teaching kids between who are about to get their driver's license.   

      As I prepare to close, I'd like to share an example of that with you.  One of my seventh graders gave me this note.  Like all notes the middle schoolers have given me, there is a large picture of me on it.  I know a lot of you can't see it because that's because I don't want you to... he either gave me a lot more facial hair than I really have, or I just ate a box of Oreos.  I don't know which.  I asked him yesterday if it was okay if I shared some of the letter with you and he gave his approval.  It reads,  "Dear Mr. Green - thanks for making English Language Arts fun.  I like your hospital story.  It was cool."  And Josh is right.  My hospital story is cool.  Cool enough that there should be more stories like it.  And that is ultimately why we are here tonight.

     If someone had asked me five years ago, "what would you give for a second chance at life?" I'm not sure I would have known how to respond.  But now I know the answer.  I would give up two and half years of a career that I am deeply passionate about.  I would give up three months of being able to drive.  I would give up sleeping in on weekends in lieu of waking up to take medicine at 6 and 7 am every day.  I would give up being able to mow the lawn due to potential infectious fungi found in the grass.  If you ask my wife, I gave up that last one a little too willingly.

     I recognize that I stand before you today because in the face of the worst loss imaginable, amidst intense heartache and grief, a family chose to look outward and give.  The University of Michigan Transplant center made certain that  that gift has had an immeasurably positive impact on my life, and the lives of others.  Tonight, we have gathered to answer a slightly different question: "How much would you give to give someone else a second chance at life?"  I know I speak for everyone affiliated with the transplant center and all the Camp Michitanki kids, when I say that we hope your answer is, "More than I anticipated when I left my house."  Thank you.

                     

A Glimpse of Summer Fun

     As summer winds down (today is the start of Professional Development week for teachers in my district-- yay!) here is a video that effectively captures how great the past few months have been.

     It was my son's idea to use the blaster as a trombone. 

http://youtu.be/rtA6qVfxgdU

A Different Kind of Transplant

     I am so happy to announce that I WILL be teaching again in the fall!  I am "easing in" by doing only one hour a day and my current placement is at the middle school level. So much for "easing in!"  I'm somewhat nervous about teaching an age group and curriculum I have no experience with-- despite a decade a teaching experience, I will be the "greenest" staff member in more ways than one. 

What Ifs, Lasts, and Goodbyes (?)

     Thursday was the last day of summer school-- my attempt at "dipping my toe back in the water" to see if I can return to teaching in the fall.  While I had every intention of having a decision made before summer school ended, a few pieces of the puzzle were still missing prior to my last day.  As such, I invited everyone I'm friends with on Facebook who is connected with me through teaching to attend what may have been my last day of teaching.   

A Message from the Past, a Prophecy of the Future

     This video is something I made to officially explain to my students that I would not be returning to teaching in the 2013 school year.  It seemed like all of the kids (and everyone on staff) were hoping, wondering, and worrying, so I made this and had my substitute show it to all of my classes.  I didn't write down any notes, just turned on my webcam and spoke.  

Rope. Swing.

     Though my family has visited my sister-in-law's cottage a few times since I went on the transplant list, our visit this past weekend afforded many opportunities that weren't on the table over the past two summers.  We played two epic volleyball games, with everyone in both families, including my six year old son, enjoying a highlight reel moment or two.  And though I'm not a fan of going fast or of heights, it would have been a crime to pass up a chance at using the rope swing...

Video of my Speech at CF Family Education Night 2015

     I am very happy to share the video of my speech at the CF Family Education Night.  U of M created a social work focused website with a Cystic Fibrosis subsection, and they have linked the video there.  By going to this link and clicking Part 2, you can see my entire speech, including the question and answer session which followed.  As far as I can tell, the speech will play on mobile devices as well as regular operating systems.  If you already read the speech when I posted it, you will see that I pretty much stuck to the script, with a few notable exceptions.  I am so grateful for having had the chance to speak at this even and for all of the great questions people asked after I spoke.  I also can't thank Dr. Simon enough.  He was my pulmonologist for 14 years prior to my transplant and gave me a better introduction than I could have asked for.  Feel free to let me know your thoughts or ask any additional questions in the comments section, or by contacting me through Gmail.  

Spidey Swings by Camp Michitanki

    The time I spent last Friday at Camp Michitanki, a week long sleep-away camp for kids who have received an organ transplant, was the most enjoyable volunteer experience I have ever been a part of.  Probably because I was dressed as Spider-Man for most of the time.  I'm going to go into a lot more detail than would ever be necessary for the book, but that's okay, because I want to have a record of every amazing moment that I was able to witness and be a part of last week.

Graduation Season

Exactly 15 years ago today, I spoke in front of nearly 200 of my fellow graduates, along with their loved ones, as one of four valedictorians of the Caro High School Class of 2000.

Some context and general notes:

• The technology gap between when this was filmed and now limited my ability to get it onto YouTube.  I filmed it with my iPhone as it played on my TV, so I apologize for the quality.

Mr. Green Goes to Lansing

     On February 26th of this year, I was honored to be invited to speak at Michigan's first officially recognized Rare Disease Day at our state capital.  While Cystic Fibrosis itself is not considered a "rare disease," my experiences with insurance coverage offered a vision of what could be if legislation like the bill we were there to advocate for was passed.  It would not have made Children's Special Health Care Services, the insurance that has kept my life with CF (including the transplant) free from crushing medical debt, available to all of its childhood recipients through adulthood.  However, it would be an important step toward making the financial lives of those who suffer from a rare disease less of a struggle.  My four minute speech was much different from many of the other stories, which were often raw displays of the frustration that naturally comes with raising a child with a chronic illness, especially as it concerns medical bills.

Geneses *

     If the speech I gave at the U of M Family Retreat on April 29th (tired of hearing about that yet?) was the "birth" of my future as a person who gives his time and energy to spreading awareness of Cystic Fibrosis and transplant related issues, then the speech below was the "conception."  In November, I was asked to speak in front of the Plymouth Canton Educational Park's STEM students, who had collectively chosen Gift of Life Michigan as the recipient for their charity work this year, in my honor.  I felt so blessed to be able to speak with such a thoughtful group of teenagers, and doubly so because some of the seniors in the audience had me as a teacher right up until a CF exacerbation in February 2013 took me out of the classroom and eventually landed me on the lung transplant waiting list.