exhilaration and cheers. irish jig and tears. and suddenly, you're riding an unforgiving denoument.
yes, k and i are a blood match. yes, we are a negative cross match. that's all good.
but in 3 hours, my potential savior will be walking the halls of the steven spielberg pediatric research building (transplant centre) @ cedars-sinai medical centre, and begin to be tested within an inch of his life. the first time he's had an IV. radioactive dye through his veins. the first time he's worn a hospital gown...
[impossible to believe. feels like valentino to me.]
all for me.
can you call another person your savior?
there are no guarantees. and in that swamp of uncertainty, i frantically tread. and periodically sink.
cut to 1988. thriving kidney. drugged within an inch of my life. and a face swollen up to the size of a buick.
vanity? perhaps. frustration? definitely.
tonight i was flipping through old photos from '07 and back, thinking, DAMN. my good health radiated from the screen like chernobyl's aftermath. radiant. glowing. indestructible.
[gimme. gimme. gimme.]
physically, i am bound and gagged. the other day, as i was blowing my nose, tossing bloody, red tissues aside, i breezed over to hubby, "man, i have every symptom of renal failure"...
and he countered, "that's because you have renal failure".
touche, my love, touche.
so, here we go...
divine sushi and wine. then a gaggle of girls descended. random, for sure. but, their "leader" cautiously approached and drooled over hubby with the enthusiasm of head cheerleader at friday night's game.
"OMG...we just wanted to tell you guys, like, you guys are so, like, totally adorable..."
[jason statham, eat your heart out]
but, maybe, just maybe, they had picked up on the day's unique magic.
38 years for my man. and 23 years for my kidney. and it's last.
it's a strange thing saying goodbye to something that was never really yours. on loan, but never promised to be returned. it's premature death a certainty. but, my death?...
[btw, listening to radiohead at 4 am is dicey at best]
so, we hit tiffany's and fortuitously stumbled upon the "bean" line...
and in my gush of verbosity, our salesman sooner than not, was privy to the excitement behind our purchase. "the "bean" necklace. he's donating a kidney to me. i have a rejecting kidney." blah, be de blah blah blah...
[check it out]
turns out, this gentleman's dad had died of renal failure. none of his children, including john, our salesman, were a match. and he wanted to follow our story...
[too close for comfort, indeed]
it's easy to imagine a fairy tale ending. it's how we born of the baby boomer generation have been brainwashed. propaganda of the lyrical kind. poofy dresses and swords askew.
but in this day and age, a princess is marinated in immunosuppressives and hypertensives before she can don that shimmering gown.
but, that's ok.
he just wants her out of bed 24/7. he wants her nausea to end. her headaches to evaporate. her nails to heal. her nose to stop bleeding. her up and running again. and dancing. and living.
there may be no fairy tale ending. but i'm still living a fairy tale every day.
[i love you, k]