I haven't heard back from my brother in a couple of days. Which is fine. Typical. Normal. The way things had always been before my kidney found its new home. Actually, there were times weeks would go by with little to no contact. We are both very busy in very different ways. But, early into this transplant process I told him I needed to hear from him every day—there was so much going on and it made me feel more grounded to be in contact on a regular basis. We texted, called, emailed, facebook messaged and played endless games of words with friends (90% of which I lost) as we recovered.
For the past nine months not a day went by that we weren't in touch.
These past nine months were some of the most intense I've ever lived through. The most scary, nerve-wracking, panic-stricken, overwhelming, frustrating, painful. Also the most exhilarating, thrilling, liberating, satisfying, joyous, hopeful. My life revolved around this transplant. So did his. It took precedence over just about everything else. I knew, when I agreed to be tested last December that I was diving off a cliff into the unknown and that there were no guarantees that all would work out in the end.
And here we are. All worked out in the end. I'm crying as I write this. Because it worked. In spite of the set backs, the delays, the doubts. The extra challenges in our particular case. My brother's ultra compromised body. Knowing his doctors would never have attempted this if it hadn't been his absolute last resort. Three months post surgery his new kidney is working better than anyone expected. And my brother is getting back to his very committed, very busy way of being present in his life. Meanwhile, I feel fine. FINE. My surgeon told me at my 6 week visit that three months out I should be just about back to where I was. I am. I did my first 20 mile bike ride this week, to the George Washington Bridge and back. There's not a yoga pose I can't do (excluding those I couldn't do before). My creative muscles are flexing. I've been designing for new clients, diving back into back to school mayhem and am staring down the question I always come back to in my life: what next.
I can honestly say that giving my brother his new kidney is one of the most meaningful, most important things I've ever done or will do. How often can you so dramatically, so profoundly change someone's life? But it's not just his life that changed. I look at things differently now. I've let go of fears that have plagued me forever.
It's also now in the past. When people ask how I am it takes a moment or two to realize what they're talking about. And so, it's time to wrap up this blog and move on.
I want to end with endless thanks to all those who read, who encouraged, who asked, who prayed. Who kept us in their thoughts and sent karma, good wishes, faith, hope. All that meant the world to me, to us.
Somehow, deep down, I had faith this story would have a happy ending. We lived a miracle.
Namaste friends. And lots of love.
Beautiful. Stay well.
ReplyDeleteAs a person who has suffered from kidney disease, you are a true hero in my eyes. I wish you all the best.
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