Meet Mike - in amazing photographic detail

Thanks to a reader named Christian, I just received the kind of hook-up that I live for when it comes to Chopped Liver and my upcoming project for the new Web site. His brother, Mike, recently donated for a baby named Evan at UCLA, and like me Mike chronicled the event on his personal Web site - albeit one that's much more tech-savvy than my own. (Yea, Firefox!)

And get this.... Mike got permission to have someone take pictures during the surgery, and he has posted them on his site. They're phenomenal in quality and in detail, and unlike anything I've ever seen. Apparently, they're unlike anything that many people have ever seen, including transplant coordinators and others who help donors like us daily but aren't actually in the operating room. I highly encourage you to check them out, but beware if you're squeamish. (If you made it through the Body Worlds exhibit, these pics will be a piece of cake. )

As you look at these, note that Mike's surgery was different from mine in that they gave him the full "Mercedes logo" treatment (in which the incision is like a large upside down capital "Y". In my case, they did most of the work through a scope entered through my belly button -- my pictures would have been relatively boring compared to these -- and then just made a straight-line incision down the center of my torso for the act of removing the donated liver piece. Mike's treatment is the more common, as I understand it, and his resulting scar looks just like my brother's.

Thanks so much, Christian, for connecting us to Mike's site. My best wishes for both Mike and Evan's ongoing recovery and health.

More on Kailey Simmons

I am ages overdue for updating you all on Kailey and her donor, who has written me with infectious enthusiasm about how great he feels and how wonderfully the recipient of his sturdy liver tissue is doing. It is excellent news, indeed -- Canada's A-Channel News ran a television segment that's available for viewing online. (Click "dial up" or "highspeed" in the rectangular box that says "click here to get the video story.")

Having followed this story since the anonymous donor first contacted me several weeks ago, I didn't think the video would touch me as much as it did -- I nearly cried seeing Kailey smiling and her mother talking about how thankful she is to have her baby home. M, I'm so amazed and inspired by your gift and your attitude!

You may not forgive me for this one

My thanks to Jason for the most annoyingly addictive video I have ever seen that is loosely related to this blog's theme. You have to watch the whole thing.

Joe Joe Joe Joe Joe

Yes, it's more about Joe. But that's just because I am excited. He is back to work this week, and this time, it's official (he has his medical license renewed, and everything). He posted something cheery on his blog a couple of days ago. And I get to go visit him this weekend in Chicago, as part of a last-minute junket to cheer on Amanda as she runs the Chicago marathon. (Having been through one of our own with this whole transplant thing, it'll be nice to watch someone else do the work for a change.)

Are there pro-blog cells in liver tissue?

Well, holy buckets. Joe sent me a brief email a couple days ago, seven words long, seven shocking words I never thought I'd hear him utter in meaningful succession: "I broke down and created a blog." This from a man who criticizes blogs more often than Paris Hilton buys handbags, more, even, than Boss Hogg complained about Bo and Luke Duke. (Um, that was a lot, for those of you who were born too late to dig the show and too early to have even noticed the recent terrible cinematic version.) I can only chalk this amazing 180 up to the fact that with the transfer of my liver tissue came a transfer of some blog gene that mingled with Joe's anti-blog DNA, metastisized to his brain, and burrowed in to stay.

Check it out, but only if there's a cute little puppy close by to cheer you up. I've posted a perma-link to the right, too.

And welcome to the blogosphere, Joe. You're one of us now. There's no turning back.