the gift that can’t be repaid

“No mom I really don’t feel like going to dinner tonight. I still feel like your friends are looking at me like your loser son.” She’s been trying to get me to mingle with the people up here. It’s not that I’m unsociable or that they’re not nice people. I just don’t like the circumstances and don’t want their judgement.

“Don’t be silly” she said. “they all want to meet you. And you may be interested in hearing the speaker, he’s a double organ transplant recipient and he’s telling his story.

That changes things. I can certainly relate to this topic. I showered and we went. The Community Club. To my surprise there were close to 90 good citizens there. In this town that is quite a turnout. After checking in and a very long social period with a refreshingly non-judgmental group we were seated to a really good BBQ chicken dinner. As volunteers cleaned up many old people flocked to the refreshment table for coffee and pastry. I read the itinerary. Our speaker has had quite the story. I’m a good story, this guy is a fucking great story.

David needed a kidney and a liver. Crohn’s disease had destroyed both. He was, and I hate this word, literally 48 hours from dying when a patient downstairs in ICU slipped from a coma to death. The family was asked if the deceased (their son) would have been interested in donating life-saving organs and they agreed. Their son, who had fallen off of a ladder and sustained a life ending head injury, was a perfect match for David and two other fortunate souls. He saved three lives that day.

The detail and the passion in which David told his story was moving for the whole audience. Of course it hit me right at home. While we had some very different circumstances we shared a lot also. His description of his symptoms as he deteriorated and the despair that went with it echoed mine. His new lease on life and the joy of good health after years of illness also echoed mine. But there were many differences also. He was relying on a cadaver donor, I received my kidney from a live donor. His relationship with the donor family is quite different from mine. The best day of his life was the worst for his donor’s family. When I see my donor, I greet her with gratitude. When David’s donor’s family sees David it is largely accompanied by grief. Of course they are happy that their son’s passing did such good for so many people but it surely is a sobering event for them.

I will write much more about my transplant, and my special relationship with Deb at a later date. It is a formative event of my life. I will part with this, Deb must be wondering why out of nowhere she got a text this morning that simply stated ” please know that I love you for your amazing gift.”