Wednesday, October 9, 2019

Kidney Transplant

In life a person may do something that he never expected he will do, or that he may ever imagine he will have the courage to do.   However, life as the poem â€Å"You mustn’t Quit! aptly said,     is full of many â€Å"twists and turns,’’ and   a person may   find himself in a place where he   had to make a decision at the risks of his own life   in order to save others ( Anonymous 2001).This may sound heroic but I never thought it that way, all I knew was that it was my dutyWhen I was 2 years old, my father was diagnosed with glomerulonephritis, which is a type of kidney disease.   Due to the fact that we lived in Scranton Pasadena and they did not have dialysis machines to treat my father, we moved to Bronx, New York.   The year was 1968.   My mother, father, brother and I packed up and flew the coop to the Bronx.   There we were informed that my father’s condition was grave and he was not expected to live very long which was quit e tragic considering that he was only in his mid 20’s. As days progressed, the     glomerulonephritis caused his blood pressure to soar so high resulting in the detachment of retina in both eyes, leaving him blind. Just imagine how hard it must have been for my mother who was still young and was forced to face with being in a new city, with a very sick, blind husband and two small children.My father had a brother, who was a priest, and a twin sister.   Both were tested for a kidney transplant for my father, and both were great matches.   For some reason, they both declined to donate to him.   Which, was quite cruel, considering they had been tested and type matched.   I remember him calling them, begging for a kidney, but they both refused.   My uncle the priest claimed it was too risky for him.   My aunt, my father’s twin, said she wanted to have more children, and felt the risk was too high for her. We were angry and at the same time disappointed over their decision.My father was on dialysis 4 to 5 days a week for 6 to 8 hours at a time at the VA (Veterans Administration) Hospital in Bronx.   He was a big man. At 6’4† he was about 240 pounds before his illness but then he was becoming thinner and thinner.   Yet he remained optimistic and happy.   He learned to make his way around the Bronx.   That is no small feat for the seeing person, let alone a blind man.My brother and I, on the other hand, were in school while my mother spent most days taking care of my father.   We were lucky enough to find an apartment right next door to the hospital.   Our relatives from Scranton visited often.   My father got progressively worse.   In 1974, the Moses Taylor Hospital in Scranton opened their own dialysis unit.   My father was thrilled!   We packed up and moved back to Scranton.   It was quite and adjustment, but worth it to be close to family!Thankfully, my father was a veteran.   He was in the Army N ational Guard before his illness.   The VA paid for all his treatments and care.   Being blind, they knew he could not drive himself to the hospital, so they paid a taxi company to take him anywhere he wanted to go even driving him to Old Forge to visit my grandparents. He was always assigned the same cab driver. One Saturday in 1977, the taxi cab my father was in was hit and it crashed into a telephone pole.   Everyone survived, except my frail father who was hurt badly.He broke nearly every bone in his body.   We did not think he would make it through the night.   Thanks to the grace of God, he did live.   However, he never fully recovered.   As a matter of fact, he spent the next three years in the Moses Taylor hospital long term care unit.     Ã‚  The VA hired full time, around the clock nurses to take care of him.   They became like family.   They cared for my father from 1977 to May 20, 1980, when my father’s poor body finally gave in and he died.I t was around that time that my brother Andrew started to lose weight.   He went to the doctor and went through a series of tests.   We worried, but were not out of control with fear.   Then the horrible news came, Andrew also had glomerulonephritis.   My poor mother was heartbroken!   I was petrified and my brother was numb when he learned he had the same disease that took my fathers life.   No immediate action was needed.   Andrew was told to live normally until his condition became worse. Imagine being told that! However, I made it through my junior year of high school without any real trauma.  Then in the beginning of my senior year, Andrew’s condition worsened.   He now needed dialysis.   It was the worst thing that could have happened to our family.   Andrew was on dialysis only 2 days a week for only 2 to 4 hours.   Still a draining experience, Andrew suffered.   When I turned 18, I called my brother’s doctor and asked about donating a k idney to my brother.   I was told it was a long process, but it indeed could be done if we were a match.   I approached Andrew with my idea and he was scared but thrilled.We made a â€Å"secret† appointment for a blood test.   We were a perfect match as far as blood type was concerned.   When we told my mother, she was not sure whether to be happy or scared!   She had one sick kid and one healthy kid and now they were both about to be operated on!   It took about 4 months for the testing to be completed at Geisinger Hospital in Danville PA.   We were a perfect match!   I was thrilled!   Andrew was thrilled!   My mother was petrified!   The operation was to take place on July 17, 1984.   They said the greater risk was for the donor-me!   I was 18!   I was healthy and full of life!   I was a bold and brazen kid!   I was full steam ahead!   The transplant went off without a hitch.I was out of the hospital after a week.   I had 32 staples in my stomach and I felt great!   By the end of the second day, Andrew looked great!   His color had returned!   He was energetic!   His was urinating like a champ!   He was required to stay in the hospital for 3 weeks, until they regulated his anti-rejection medication.   That was 23 years ago.   Andrew is still on anti-rejection medication, but leads a full life.   He is 45 years old.   Andrew is married and has two wonderful little boys.   He has a brand new house in Yatesville and his own mortgage business.It was the greatest thing I could ever imagine doing in my life.   My father was on dialysis for 17 years.   It not only kept him alive, but it also sucked the life out of him.   Andrew was on dialysis for only 7 months.   My mother is still a nervous wreck, but we are all doing fine.   We are quite the family.   Imagine seeing both of your children being wheeled away for an operation at the same time!   I am surprised she survived.   Just for th e record, my aunt and my uncle the priest not only cried when my father died, but they also came to visit me and Andrew in the hospital after the transplant.   I harbor ill feelings toward them.   I suspect I always will.Work CitedAnonymous. 2001. Poem,   â€Å"You Mustn’t Quit! Quoteland. Retrieved). Retrieved October 2, 2007 .

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