I know we’ve been short on details, partly because we were hoping Christien would recover and come back to tell you about it himself. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. But I know Christien would have wanted to share with everyone. If you’ve listened to the podcast or met him, you know how generous he is with his private life, which is why so many of us feel so close to him. He had a way of bringing you in, unreservedly. So I don’t think he’d mind me telling you what happened.
About six months ago, Christien was told his liver was failing and that he would need a transplant at some point. Sucky news, to be sure, but worse things could happen. I even offered him one of my livers, at which point he gave me an amused look and said, “That’s kidneys. You only have one liver.”
I’m positive the only reason he knew this so readily was because he’d been talking to doctors recently. Livers, kidneys, who can keep them straight?
So he was dealing with a failing liver when he contracted what would have been a difficult infection even in someone with a healthy immune system. Unfortunately, it spread quickly as he waited the few days for an upcoming doctor’s appointment. By the time he was supposed to go in for his appointment, the infection had spread dramatically, and it was clear he needed to go to the ER. From there, we were told he had contracted sepsis and needed immediately to go into the ICU to get a new liver as soon as possible. His liver and kidney’s had been effectively shut down by the infection.
Over the course of the next two weeks, give or take – time passed so strangely for all of us – he underwent several operations to remove the infection, because he couldn’t get a transplant until it was safe to shut down his immune system so his body wouldn’t reject a new liver. Bodies don’t know what to make of new organs being stuck in them, so they freak out and attack it with immune systems. So part of what’s precarious about a transplant is that the patient’s immune system has to be shut down. But Christien’s immune system couldn’t be shut down until the infection was gone and his body had stabilized. Removing the infection required several surgeries and, unfortunately but necessarily, a lot of trauma to his body. Ultimately, it was too much in his weakened state, and after a certain point, there was nothing the doctors could do.
During his time in the hospital, he was often on a ventilator and/or unconscious. At times, we could interact with him, and those moments did everyone’s heart good. He would talk to us through eyebrow gestures or writing on a whiteboard or using sign language with his son and ex-wife, who have studied ASL. We read him messages from this thread. On a few precious occasions, he was able to actually talk with us. His family turned out in droves and there was almost literally never a time that a loved one wasn’t in the room with him. I mean, occasionally, everyone got kicked out so he could get a sponge bath or something. But even overnight, someone was in his hospital room with him.
When he finally died, we were all given notice that it was time to come to the hospital and say good-bye. We held his hand, we kissed his forehead, we cried and said good-bye as his heart rate and blood pressure slowly faded. He was in no pain. The last thing he had experienced was an afternoon hanging out with his son.
We’re all still grieving and it’s meant a lot to us what people have been saying in this thread. It’s meant a lot to us to know how many lives he’s touched in such a heartfelt way. It means a lot to read here how Christien did so much good in this world. Thank you all for your posts.
-Tom