human being in this beautiful circle of life.
Surgery feels like an athletic event sometimes.
I hydrate a lot and wear compression socks, and
I’ll even do some yoga on the plane to make sure
my posture’s OK. Still, your muscles get tired,
your back hurts, and your neck hurts. It can be
tough to press through, and sometimes it feels
like the world is working against you. Transplant
surgery is a very humbling practice. Things can
happen with patients’ immune systems or infec-
tions that are out of your control. But there are
a lot of people helping you along the way. And
maybe you get some help from the universe.
Tomorrow, I’ll perform the surgery to remove
the liver and bring the liver with me, and we will
all get back into an ambulance. It will be lights-
and-sirens to the airport: The liver won’t last
more than ten hours, so we will be in an emer-
gency situation. We’ll be given priority and take
off immediately. Everyone is in on the mission—
the pilots, too. These guys fly in and out of some
very bad weather, and planes have gone down
with medical teams in them. I always tip my hat
to the pilots.
We will land back in New Jersey, take another
ambulance to my hospital where the recipient
will already be in the operating room, and start
the transplant. Most of our liver patients have
had cancer or have hepatitis or autoimmune
disease, and you’re literally changing their lives.
These people become like family to us. It’s the
most beautiful thing when, a year later, you’re
walking in the hall with coffee in your hand, and
a patient stops you to say, “Thank you so much,”
and you just hug it out.
The biggest thing yoga teaches you is to be
present and focused, which helps, obviously,
during an operation. But it also reinforces the
art of practicing empathy and compassion for
yourself and for other people around you. Yoga
makes me a better person and a better doctor
for sure.
But tomorrow will be a long day. I probably
won’t make it to yoga.