I am so blessed because I have had a glimpse of two worlds. The world of being chronically ill, weak, tired, often hospitalized, watching life from the side lines. And the world of to being strong, healthy, full of energy, joining in life and helping those who must sit on the sidelines.
My kidney’s began to fail when I was 6. I contracted strep throat repeatedly which led to the kidney disease called MPGN type 2, and there is no cure. One of the scariest moments of my childhood was when I was seven. One morning I went to the bathroom and when I turned to flush, I saw blood red. I quickly tried to flush it down and ignore the scary stuff, but by the grace of God, the toilet chain inside the tank broke and I couldn’t get rid of it. I ran and hid behind my bed. My brother found it and told mom. Thus began the first of many hospitalizations. They did a biopsy and I was finally definitively diagnosed after several misdiagnoses. This was terrifying news to my mother, a single parent of 5 kids.
For the next 5 years I lived with kidney failure. Puffy eyes and fingers, having to rest a few times if I had to climb a set of stairs, being too tired to play simple childhood games. I was 12 when my kidneys shut down completely and unexpectedly in March 1986. I was in and out of the hospital for two months before the surgeon put a CAPD dialysis catheter in my belly. I took my stuffed bunny in the operating room with me. When I woke the bunny had on a surgical mask and hat. (God bless those nurses and doctors that work with terrified children and adults for that matter) After surgery my mom and I lifted my bandages and saw this tube sticking out of my belly and I nearly threw up. While dialysis saved my life, it is nothing like having actual functioning kidneys. I was surviving, but not thriving. Mostly healthy, but I still lacked energy and was confined to a machine every night from 9pm to 5am.
July 26, 1990, after 4.5 years on dialysis, at St. Louis Children’s Hospital, my older brother, Matt, donated his kidney to me. I was 16 and he was 21 and in the Army. Four months later, he was shipped off to the Gulf War.
My life began when I got my transplant at 16. I knew something was different the moment I awoke from surgery. I felt cleansed. It took a few weeks to get all the toxins out of my system, but my new kidney did a great job. I learned what it’s like to be healthy. It was like coming out of a dark basement prison into the bright sunlight.
Since then, I have been challenging myself to make up for lost time as a kid. I've ridden 150 miles on my bike, I learned to SCUBA dive, I literally climbed mountains (14,309’), stood on a glacier in Alaska, flew over a volcano in Hawaii, dove with sharks in Honduras. I screamed and jumped up and down the the Blues won the Stanley Cup. I also have been a 7th grade math/science teacher for 20 years. July 26, 2020 I will celebrate 30 years transplanted.
Thanks:
Matt Hansen, Dr Samuel So, Dr. Vescari, Dr Ted Groshong, Dr Raul Nelson, Dr. Barbara Cole, Dr. Jack Moncrief (for dialysis and summer camp), My nurses, Michelle, Kevin, Connie and so many more.
My family who never let me go through it alone.
And most of all to God from whom all blessings flow.
