
Transplant surgeons are a special breed; they really are.
When Dorothy underwent her kidney transplant almost 10 years ago at St. Paul’s Hospital in Vancouver, the surgeon told me there wasn’t any need to hang around the hospital that day. He would, he said, call me at the hotel in which we were staying once they were done.
Yeah, I thought, a busy surgeon is going to take time out of his day to call me! Sure thing!! So I was in the hotel room at 2:30 p.m., when the phone rang. I picked up, fully expecting to hear an assistant or a nurse or a case worker on the other end. But, no, it was the doctor and he had all the time in the world for me and my questions, and that’s something I won’t ever forget.
That brings us to Lindsey Backmeyer and her Kamloops family. Ferris, the six-year-old daughter of Lindsey and husband Pat, underwent a kidney transplant a week ago at the Hospital for Sick Children in Toronto.
Shortly after the procedure had been completed, Lindsey received a visit from the transplant surgeon.
Among other things, Lindsey wrote on Facebook, “He thanked me from the bottom of his heart and on behalf of everyone involved in her case for trusting them to be a part of her story.”
Is that special, or what? But these angels of the operating room are like that.
Lindsey added: “His thank you was so genuine you can’t help but love the guy. Cutting edge medicine is what i hoped for and this guy and his team delivered.
“Ummm, no sir, the thanks is all to you. For that, and to all of them. Thanks for being so friggin good at what you do!! My girl deserved this shot just as much as the next child and these guys made this happen for her.”

The surgeon also had a photo of Ferris’s new kidney, along with “his beautiful watercolour picture of her transplant.”
Is that amazing, or what?
“I had just fallen asleep when he came in to tell me they were done,” Lindsen wrote. “I was too distracted to really let him know what I thought of that picture . . . it’s beautiful. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. . . . I couldn’t love them more.”
As for Ferris, Lindsey reported late Friday night that “while things haven’t gone super smooth they are still going very well. The kidney is happy and making a lot of pee. Yay for a happy kidney!!”
If you’ve been following along, you will recall that there had been some concern about a urine leak.
Lindsey reported that it means Ferris’s catheter will be in place for another week before being removed. The good news is that “most urine is coming out of the catheter and minimal amounts are coming out of the drain. Seems solid to me!”
According to Lindsey, Ferris “had another great day. From a post-surgical recovery standpoint, she’s ready to bust out. But she’s not ready.”
In fact, Ferris will be in hospital for at least another week because of the catheter and the need to give her heparin via IV.
And now, according to her mother, she’s battling boredom.
“She made three batches of slime today. Did musical therapy and a lot of crafts. She also ate a ridiculous amount of food,” Lindsey wrote. “I forgot just how messy eating can be.”
Sounds like a normal six-year-old to me.
Lindsey’s excitement was more than evident in her latest posting. In fact, it practically leapt from my computer screen, especially at the end.
Ferris, Lindsey said, “is very officially on the other side. Doesn’t mean she’s outta the woods. Or there won’t be any complications. Just means they are post-transplant complications and not due to having end-stage renal disease.”
After six years of dealing with end-stage renal disease, please try to understand just how large this is.
“It’s a new world,” Lindsey added, “and we wouldn’t have been given this opportunity if it weren’t for Leah Scott and the urology team at Toronto Sick Kids.”
Scott, who also is from Kamloops, surrendered a kidney through the paired exchange program so that Ferris could get one via transplant.
Lindsey continued: “Forever friggin grateful for this chance. I’ve listened to this podcast where it says I believe in miracles. Do you? I friggin do. I believe in miracles. I always have.
“Maybe, just maybe . . . this is the miracle we have been waiting for.”
And let’s not forget that there also are two older sisters — Tavia, 11, and Ksenia, 9 — making this journey, too.
“Outside of that,” Lindsey wrote, “Ksenia is sick. Which has me a bit panicked. They won’t visit anymore. Hopefully it’s not already too late.”
It’s true, you know. A mother’s work, and worrying, is never done.