I believe in miracles. Call me a dreamer, unrealistic, naive but I do believe we see miracles everyday.
So, how do I define a miracle? I suppose we all may think of it differently.
According to Websters Dictionary a miracle is:
"an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs"
OK, but what is divine intervention?
"an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs"
OK, but what is divine intervention?
Wikipedia says “Divine intervention is a term for a miracle caused by a Deity's active involvement in the human world”
Now, who’s this Deity dude? Again, Wikipedia tells me “In religious belief, a Deity is a supernatural being, and who may be thought of as holy, divine, or sacred”
Isn’t it ironic how we use word the miracle on a pretty daily basis but do we really think about what it is?
Isn’t it ironic how we use word the miracle on a pretty daily basis but do we really think about what it is?
Like I said, we can all have our own definition of a miracle.
Mine is probably pretty loose. I can call it a miracle when that crazy driver in front of me avoided hitting me, That I have so many beautiful, lovely people in my life. Or even back in my showing days when I found 8 distances in a hunter class!
Mine is probably pretty loose. I can call it a miracle when that crazy driver in front of me avoided hitting me, That I have so many beautiful, lovely people in my life. Or even back in my showing days when I found 8 distances in a hunter class!
The miracle I want to tell you about really fits right in with those definitions above. An extraordinary event that came about with divine intervention – there simply is no other way to explain it.
Our dear friend Scout (Vicki) Valentine can breathe thanks to a miracle. The miracle that extraordinarily skilled surgeons, with God’s guidance at their back, can take the working, useful lungs for a person who has left this life to go be with their God and place them in a person whose work on this earth is not done. The miracle that the timing of the donor’s passing coincided with the hour of Scout’s greatest need.
Did I ever doubt that the lung transplant would happen? I have to admit my faith waivered slightly during the last hours before the surgery. Shame on me for even questioning but the strength of Scout’s spirit and the spirit of all of her loved ones overshadowed my doubt. That is the meaning of strength in numbers and the power of prayer. Oh yes…a miracle.
Scout received her new lungs in the very early hours of June 8, 2013. The journey to that day began nearly 2 years before.
It was right after Classics, Cats and Cabernet 2011, FieldHaven’s annual fundraiser when Scout developed a nasty cough. It was diagnosed as pneumonia and treated as such. It seemingly was on its way to resolution until several months later when it became apparent there were some lingering symptoms.
Over the next several months diagnostic tests were done and Scout fluctuated between feeling normal and great and feeling just a bit “off”.
The “off” didn’t stop her from being active. She continued to run several days a week and take riding lessons which she had begun in 2010. She had made her debut in the hunt field in early 2011 at a Red Rock Hounds joint meet in Santa Ynez and had become quite hooked on riding.
In the summer of 2011 I acquired an unattractive but loveable 3 year old off-the-track Thoroughbred gelding. He really had quite poor conformation, was underweight and his feet were in miserable condition. But he had an eye that you could get lost in.
The “off” didn’t stop her from being active. She continued to run several days a week and take riding lessons which she had begun in 2010. She had made her debut in the hunt field in early 2011 at a Red Rock Hounds joint meet in Santa Ynez and had become quite hooked on riding.
In the summer of 2011 I acquired an unattractive but loveable 3 year old off-the-track Thoroughbred gelding. He really had quite poor conformation, was underweight and his feet were in miserable condition. But he had an eye that you could get lost in.
I’ve looked at a lot of horses in my lifetime. I can look at how they move and perform, their conformation, body condition, temperament but a horse’s eye will tell me most of what I want to know. They can be the most beautiful, most talented horse but if they don’t have a willing, curious, loveable eye I am cautious.
This one had the “eye”. So he came home with me and everyone but Scout and I laughed at him. I named him Logan.
It was several months before I could even ride him because his feet were in such bad shape. Finally around November I could start riding him. But, in late November I broke my back (different horse) so I could only do ground work with him. Scout had decided she wanted to go with us to another Red Rock joint meet in Ridgecrest, California in January of 2012. We were trying to decide who would be the best mount for her when I had the brainstorm of having her ride Logan. Everyone but Scout and I thought it a crazy idea; a beginner 55 year old on a barely broke 3 year old in the hunt field? But this was Logan and I knew he would be careful with her.
And he was. Scout had a wonderful time on that 3 day meet. We debuted the “Leisure Field” for those that just wanted to stroll along to watch the hunt and had a large number of people in our field. She and the now-beautiful Logan went on to participate in the closing weekend hunter pace and hunt at Red Rock in April.
Scout’s world was rocked right after that.
During the early months of 2012 Scout became increasingly short of breath, especially when she was in the altitude at Red Rock. More tests were done, including surgical biopsies. After several tentative diagnoses a proclamation was made after a consult with Mayo Clinic that “we’re pretty sure it’s Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis”.
Scout’s world was rocked right after that.
During the early months of 2012 Scout became increasingly short of breath, especially when she was in the altitude at Red Rock. More tests were done, including surgical biopsies. After several tentative diagnoses a proclamation was made after a consult with Mayo Clinic that “we’re pretty sure it’s Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis”.
What?
Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis is scarring or thickening of the lungs without a known cause.
No one knows what causes Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis or why some people get it. It causes the lungs to become scarred and stiffened. This stiffening may make it increasingly difficult to breathe. In some people the disease gets worse quickly (over months to a few years), but other people have little worsening of the disease over time.
The condition is believed to be due to an inflammatory response to an unknown substance or injury. "Idiopathic" means no cause can be found. The disease occurs most often in people between 50 and 70 years old.
The condition is believed to be due to an inflammatory response to an unknown substance or injury. "Idiopathic" means no cause can be found. The disease occurs most often in people between 50 and 70 years old.
We hoped it would progress slowly but in Scout’s case it worsened quickly.
In late April 2012 my sister Jann (an RN) and Scout went to a consulting pulmonologist. The consensus rather shocked us all. If the disease progressed to a point where she lost most of her lung capacity a transplant would be the only treatment. Transplant!? That only happens to “other” people doesn’t it?
At that point Scout said it was not something she would consider. Besides, this disease could progress slowly so that decision probably wouldn’t have to be made for perhaps years down the road, right?
In the meantime, little could be offered in way of treatment to slow the disease progress. It really was up to the individual person’s body to dictate how fast it would progress.
We couldn’t just sit around and wait to see how fast or slow this nasty disease would take to destroy Scout’s breathing. We would let medical science help us in all the ways it could but we also needed to treat Scout as a whole body. After all, her lungs were just one part of her body. While they were deciding how fast or slow they wanted to develop scar tissue we could focus on every other part of Scout.
We couldn’t just sit around and wait to see how fast or slow this nasty disease would take to destroy Scout’s breathing. We would let medical science help us in all the ways it could but we also needed to treat Scout as a whole body. After all, her lungs were just one part of her body. While they were deciding how fast or slow they wanted to develop scar tissue we could focus on every other part of Scout.
With a clearance to fly by her medical team, 5 of us embarked on a journey in early May to the Healing Spirits Herbal Farm in Avoca, NY. Matt and Andrea Reisen are masters at whole body healing. Andrea is Red Rock Hounds MFH Lynn Lloyd’s sister and absolutely embodies the spirit of optimism, adventure, love and spirit that we all love in Lynn. Andrea and Matt have made healing their life’s work and they give all of their selves to it.
Scout, my sister Jann, friends Jen and Leslie and myself spent a glorious week in in mountains of New York at a delightful, welcoming inn by night and at Healing Spirits during the day. We all indulged ourselves in Matt and Andrea’s loving, skilled hands, hearts and knowledge. By the end of the week Scout could walk up the hill nearby without losing her breath where earlier in the week she couldn’t even get halfway up. We left with hope and an inner sense of purpose. No matter how quickly the disease would progress we could surround Scout with our Healing Spirits.
Immediately upon her return Scout departed on a continuance of her healing journey. She went with her family for a sailing trip to the Caribbean. There she wrapped herself in the healing powers of the ocean and the sea air.
Upon returning in early June she felt wonderful. For at least that month between New York and the Caribbean the disease gave her the gift of letting her forget for awhile the hard journey ahead. It gave her the strength and purpose to move forward in what would be the hardest year of her life.
Upon returning in early June she felt wonderful. For at least that month between New York and the Caribbean the disease gave her the gift of letting her forget for awhile the hard journey ahead. It gave her the strength and purpose to move forward in what would be the hardest year of her life.
During the summer it became apparent the disease was progressing. There were good days and bad days. On the good days Scout worked at FieldHaven as much as she could. The purpose of helping animals live and introducing them to new lives in loving homes buoyed her spirits to help her get through the bad days.
She enjoyed her family and friends and held to “normal” as much as possible. In mid-October eight of us went to the No More Homeless Pets Conference in Las Vegas, NV. In late October she held her annual frightful Halloween Party in Scout’s Woods.
Soon before that she had to start using oxygen to supplement her breathing. But even that didn’t slow her down terribly. Her little backpack of oxygen just accompanied her as she went about her life, just a little encumbrance to tag along.
Her mom moved in with her for a period of time. The timing was right that her mom was in transition and coincided with Scout’s growing need to have someone living with her.
In November Scout asked me if I would go with her to her pulmonology appointment on December 3rd. She wanted to discuss the possibility of transplant with her pulmonologist.
That was quite the first of many very surreal experiences I have had over the past year. Some of the questions stuck in our throat as we asked them. “What will happen if I choose not to do a transplant?” “What is the success/survival rate?” “What are the chances of getting a match – how many people die waiting for a transplant?”
At 5:30 pm on Monday, Dec 3rd 2012, Scout made the declaration that would send her on a journey that she’d be on for the rest of her life; “I want to move forward with a transplant”.
The first of a huge battery of tests were scheduled for the following morning. No time to waste. Over the next two months Scout had each and every body part and system evaluated and screened. Right down to the teeth and toes! And, not any too soon because Scout was now pretty much on full-time oxygen.
Scout found out on Valentine’s Day that she was listed with UC San Francisco for a lung transplant. Quite appropriate, you think?
“Listing” means that she was registered with UNOS (United Network for Organ Sharing). She received an initial LAS (lung allocation score) that determined her place on the list. A match would mean they found lungs that matched her in approximate height and blood type.
Dr. Krukeja, the transplant surgeon at UCSF had met with Scout during the evaluation and talked to her about the different types of lungs that may be offered. They could include smokers, drug users, felons; Scout told her she wouldn’t be picky; any lung’ll do!
It was closer to becoming a reality and yes, it was a very, very bizarre feeling that we were essentially waiting for someone to die. How do you reconcile that in your mind?
Sometimes you just have to use humor to get past these “heavy” feelings. That’s not to say we in any way laughed about someone dying in order for Scout to live but you just have to make a few jests along the way. “So you’re about Scout’s height, what blood type are you?” “Yes, I’ll drive carefully, I love ya but I’m not keen on being your lung donor.”
Sometimes you just have to use humor to get past these “heavy” feelings. That’s not to say we in any way laughed about someone dying in order for Scout to live but you just have to make a few jests along the way. “So you’re about Scout’s height, what blood type are you?” “Yes, I’ll drive carefully, I love ya but I’m not keen on being your lung donor.”
Laughter is one of the key ingredients for getting through. Like posting silly transplant jokes on Facebook:
The patient demanded, “Doc, I just must have a liver transplant, a kidney transplant, a cornea transplant, a lung transplant, and a heart transplant.”
“WHAT?” yelled the doctor. “Tell me, exactly why you think you need all these transplants.”
“Well,” explained the patient, “my boss told me that I needed to get reorganized.”
Laughter made the wait a bit more tolerable. And wait we did. For weeks it seemed as if they had forgotten about us at UCSF. We waited for the “call” but radio silence prevailed. The transplant coordinator at UCSF was wonderful in reassuring us that Scout was definitely on their radar but the fact was there were patients sicker and higher up the list than Scout.
In March Scout moved into FieldHaven where we could all help her and be there for her.
Several times during the wait Scout’s lungs worsened considerably. We became frequent visitors at the Kaiser ED and she was admitted several times. Her oxygen needs increased and she became dependent on the large oxygen concentrator that hummed along all day and all night. She was tethered to the 50 foot green hose that was connected to the concentrator. The cats were delighted. They thought that we’d installed a play toy just for them and you’d often see Scout dragging a cat attached to the hose as she walked about the house. That damn green hose was a hazard. How many times did a trip over it or become wrapped up in it.
Then there was that time when I was standing in the kitchen and the concentrator started beeping. I looked down and realized I was standing on the hose and was cutting off Scout’s oxygen! Oh dear!
Have oxygen – will travel. We got adept at estimating how much portable oxygen we’d need for a short or long car trip. As her oxygen needs increased it became more challenging. But we didn’t let that stop us.
One day I wanted to go horse shopping (yes, a bad habit I’m trying to break). At this point the portable tanks were just meeting her needs but because we were going to be gone for several hours and in a rural location we didn’t want to get caught without air. So Benay and I hoisted the concentrator into my Explorer and we threw in a long extension cord. Worst case I could stop somewhere and plug in the concentrator for Scout. Knock-knock. “Helllooo….could I borrow an outlet to plug in this machine so my friend can breathe???” No, we didn’t need to do that – we actually had a super fun day and never ran out of oxygen. And, yes, I got the horse.
Scout kept busy. She worked down in the shelter as much as she could. We watched all three seasons of Downton Abbey. We ate a lot of sushi because post-transplant sushi is on the forbidden list (possibilities of bacteria). Four of us went on a weekend retreat to Calistoga.
And we waited for the phone call to come…..
We never did receive that call.
Scout’s condition deteriorated to the point where walking just a few feet caused extreme shortness of breath. One day it led to a 911 call for yet another ER visit. This time after five days in the hospital we had to increase our oxygen setup before she could come home. Six large stainless steel liquid oxygen containers that turned our house into what looked like a brewery, pushed air into Scout’s lungs each and every second.
Memorial Day brought a steady stream of family and friends to keep the cheer going but it only broke our hearts to watch our sister’s lungs fail her otherwise strong body. By the end of the day it was apparent Scout needed to be with a medical team that had the expertise to keep her life going until donor lungs became available.
If it wasn’t under such scary circumstances the 120 mile ambulance ride from Lincoln to UC San Francisco Hospital would’ve been thrilling. Sirens blasting, lights twirling parted
the bumper-to-bumper Memorial Day traffic of vacationers returning from the traditional summer kick-off weekend festivities. Watching the traffic part as we sped down Highway 80 was truly exciting….and reassuring.
We arrived at the UCSF and immediately Scout was put in the skilled hands of the ER staff and members of the lung transplant team. At around 2am we were moved to ICU where Scout would spend the rest of her time waiting for donor lungs.
If we thought the waiting of the past four months was long, the ten days we held our collective breaths until the transplant happened crept along like ten months. After several days at UCSF I had gone back home and was preparing to go back down on June 8th for the weekend but at 3am on the morning of June 7th a call came that Scout was in respiratory failure and they would be performing a last effort to prolong her lungs – and life – until donor lungs became available. The procedure they would perform is called ECMO and is basically a heart-lung bypass; a machine would be providing those functions for her.
We rushed to the hospital in time to see her off to surgery. They delayed the surgery a bit as Dr. Krukeja thought there might be some lungs but it did not happen. She informed us that Scout was now “at the top of the list” but she feared she wouldn’t live much longer unless the extreme effort of ECMO was done so at noon she was taken off to surgery. At 3pm she came back from surgery with the news that there was a good possibility of a matched set of donor lungs.
Then came the twelve hour wait where time moved along one painful second at a time. Scout’s life was leaving us but our prayers, her will and the talent of the staff kept her on this earth until 3am on Saturday, June 8th when she left for the transplant with all of us right beside her in spirit.
The transplant went well. The recovery period was not without challenges, disappointments, fear, anger and yes, some guilt that another person had to lose their life to give us the opportunity to continue living.
After just under two months of post-op care while living in an apartment near San Francisco Scout came home to FieldHaven on August 6th.
Living with a lung transplant is no easy undertaking. It is not for sissies. There’s the litany of blood tests each week. The regular bronchoscopies and other invasive tests to ensure the lungs are working properly. The 40+ drugs taken each day on a very strict schedule. The absolute obsession one needs to develop about keeping germs away from a very compromised immune system (can you say “germophobia”?). The utter fear that each little symptom might mean the lungs are “rejecting”. The side affects of some of the drugs. (have you heard of “roid-rage” from the steroids?).
Living with a lung transplant is no easy undertaking. It is not for sissies. There’s the litany of blood tests each week. The regular bronchoscopies and other invasive tests to ensure the lungs are working properly. The 40+ drugs taken each day on a very strict schedule. The absolute obsession one needs to develop about keeping germs away from a very compromised immune system (can you say “germophobia”?). The utter fear that each little symptom might mean the lungs are “rejecting”. The side affects of some of the drugs. (have you heard of “roid-rage” from the steroids?).
 |
| Scout and Logan at Ridgecrest Joint Meet – January 2012 |
 |
| 114 days after a lung transplant Scout took Logan for a ride. |
While in the hospital and all the months after Scout pronounced her goal was to ride at Red Rock Hounds Opening Meet in October.
 |
| Ex RRH MFH John Schafer did the Blessing of the hounds on Opening Day |
 |
| Scout and Logan on Opening Day |
Why, we’re going on a Christmas ride of course!
 |
| Christmas 2013 - A beautiful day for a ride |
UPDATE 2/24/14: Last week we returned from a joint meet with Red Rock Hounds at Tejon Hounds and Santa Ynez Valley Hounds where Scout rode Logan 4 of the 6 days we hunted. During the trip she marked the 1 year anniversary being put on the lung transplant list (February 14th). Upon our return she went to UCSF for her regular check-up with the lung transplant team. When she told them what she had been doing for the past week they were in awe and called her the "Poster Child for Lung Transplants"!
Each day we send thoughts and prayers out to the family of the person who gave the most generous gift of all. Grateful doesn't begin to describe.....
 |
| Scout on Logan, Preston on Devon and Joy on Kindred at Chamberlain Ranch in Santa Ynez |
 |
| Hunting at Tejon Ranch |
 |
| Happy in the saddle |
 |
| Here's to good times, good horses, good friends.....and life |
