Meinuk got the call

Here's the post referenced in Bill's first post, for those that missed it:

November 02, 2008
A second early morning phone call

By Anna Bennett

What is it about Sunday at 7am? Is that going to be my fate? It looks like in my case, Saturday night is a good night for kidneys. Not a good night for a 32 year old man in good health who had some personal problems, and was found in cardiac arrest. No mater what his problems were, his final gift was signing his donor card, and for that I am thankful.

Of course, as I write this, I am second on the list for one of his kidneys, and I am waiting to hear from the hospital. It is funny that as I was speaking to the transplant coordinator, one of the first thoughts running through my head what that I have plans for this week, a transplant is definitely going to complicate things.

As my time comes closer for a transplant, I am aware that there are many changes coming up in my life. I'll be swapping daily dialysis for a daily drug regime that may cause the dreaded prednisone face. (I'll admit it, I am a bit vain), there could be some serious complications, the kidney may not work, and no matter what, eventually, I'll be back on dialysis again. There is nothing like living different scenarios in your head as you wait for a phone call. It is a unique experience. I am dwelling on the bad, as I know that my life as it is right now is good, and with a transplant, (the ultimate portable renal replacement therapy) I'll be planning a month in Europe, showing off my transplant scar and catching up on all that I have missed.

Until then, I am going through the motions of what one does when you get the call. Stop eating (I cheated and made coffee - I could not survive without a cup of coffee), make sure that my home is in order, dishes clean, a hot shower with liberal use of antibacterial soap, clean sheets on the bed to come home to, old leftovers out of the fridge, garbage out of the house, overnight bag packed remembering the extra phone charger, list of phone numbers and e-mails available, bills paid for the month etc. I live alone, my family is 3,000 miles away, and I haven't told anyone yet, because I have decided that I'm not alerting anyone until the transplant is a sure thing.

In a couple of hours, if I don't recieve another phone call from the transplant center, I'll prime my dialysis machine, eat some breakfast, and Sunday morning will commence as it does every other Sunday. These phone calls are like a military drill, you prepare for the invasion, but so far all I have done is prepare, then the hours go by, the kidney goes to someone else, and I stand down, and go back to my normal routine.

8:48 am - it is not a false alarm, the kidney is mine. I am on my way to the hospital. Details to come...
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