You Have Got to Be

Kidney-ing Me

My high school English teacher—also our journalism teacher & theatre (I like spelling it that way, even though spell check doesn’t like me spelling it that way) director—was fantastic. She so clearly loved her students and her job. She had high energy, passion, and encouraged me to think about things in new ways and to consider varying perspectives. (She also once threw a shoe across the room at a classmate of mine who was either dozing or sassing; either way, it was hilarious and obviously memorable.)

One of my roles during my junior and senior year was tending to a humor column in our high school paper called “Spit It Out,” a section started by my older brother. The column consisted of quotes from students and teachers in our high school that we (“we” as in my brother and me, and a select few from our journalism staff) found funny. A quote that, for some reason, has always stood out to me was uttered by that same classmate who was the target of said shoe. Our English teacher said something we teenagers found confusing, and my classmate made the statement, “That must be the kidney talking.” Whenever our beloved English teacher either stumbled or stuttered, said something that didn’t make sense to our class, or messed up in our eyes in any way, we blamed it on her kidney.

So what do my high school English teacher, memorable quotes and quips, and kidneys have in common? We are almost there.

My English teacher encouraged me to be creative when brainstorming article titles. It was through that brainstorming process that I learned how much I love wordplay. (I also love Coldplay.) My English teacher donated her kidney to her sister when I was in school. This past week my husband donated his kidney to our friend. (That is why I chose the kidney title for this post, which reminded me of thinking of article titles and funny quips in high school journalism class, which reminded me of my teacher. Dots connected! Thanks for sticking with me.)

Accompanying my husband on this journey that I do not have adequate adjectives for has been moving and miraculous. (I guess “moving” and “miraculous” count as adjectives, but it is difficult to think of enough adjectives that sufficiently describe this experience.)

Our friend has known for many years that one day he would go into kidney failure due to an unfortunate genetic, um, gene. (I don’t know medical vernacular). He worked very hard for the last couple years to get to a place where he could make the kidney donation list. When he called in December to tell us he finally made it, we were so very grateful! However, there was a catch. Once a person gets on that incredibly important list, the average wait time to receive is about four years. Because of age limit rules in four years our friend would no longer be eligible to receive. Talk about poetic injustice.

My husband let me know our friend made the list and immediately contacted the National Kidney Registry. We thought there would be a screening, questionnaire (I always think that word should have two r’s instead of two n’s), and maybe a follow-up email some weeks later. We thought wrong. The Registry called my husband right away and began making the plan. Turns out, you do not have to wait to find out if you are a match with someone in order to get that person a kidney. You just have to be willing to donate your kidney, period, and then your person goes right up to the top of the list!

And that was the beginning of this incredible journey. As you already know, my husband did get to donate to our friend. We found out they were a match just a few weeks ago, which just made the whole amazing situation even better. I have had more time than usual to reflect over these days—mostly because we are sans kids during this time—and some questions I have been wondering about include:

• Who is someone that encourages you to think about things in new ways and to consider varying perspectives?

• How does it strike you to consider the words “miracle” or “miraculous?”

• In what ways might we participate in intentionally encouraging one another?

• In what ways might we more intentionally seek out miracles in our day to day lives?

• Who are the people in your life you would give up a proverbial (or perhaps literal) kidney for?

So now my sweet husband and our friend are recovering, and we family members and supporters get to give thanks for and stand in awe of modern miracles. A miracle story is always worth sharing. (And no, I am not kidney-ing you.)