They call me Mr. 3Kidneys a.k.a Tres Kidds
I was placed on the kidney transplant list in June 2006. I was told the average wait was 2-5 years. Throughout dialysis, I would check in with the transplant center and to see where I was on the list. I was never told my exact number, only if I was say in the top 100 or top 50, etc.
On the morning of July 6th, 2010, I received a call saying there was a kidney available and for me to come to the transplant center (an hour away) as soon as possible. My wife and I, in a whirlwind of getting ready and excitement, raced down I-95 to get to the transplant center in time. They did blood work and started prepping me when I was told the family of the donor decided to give the kidney to someone else. We left the transplant center, devastated.
Then came the morning of September 20, 2010. I was at work and my phone rang at 8:11am. It was the transplant center saying they had a kidney for me and asked if I was interested because it was considered a “high risk kidney”. Meaning the lifestyle of the donor could effect the kidney, but it was mine if I was interested.
I told them I was very much interested, called my wife, rolled out of work, and me and my wife once again turned the speed limit into a speed suggestion. I was prepped and ready for surgery in about 2 hours. There was a mixture of excitement, hope, worry, fear and joy.
The surgery lasted 9 hours. Basically, they kept my original kidneys and installed a new kidney and re-wired everything to the new kidney. Something like this:
I was in the Intensive Care Unit for 14 days and had a wide variety of procedures and things happen there. I’ll talk more about those throughout the course of the blog.
My new kidney is working great, I’m recovering and loving this new lease on life. I am on quite a bit of medication to suppress my immune system so it won’t attack the new kidney and my body rejects it. But I believe everything will work out for the good and all will be well. My new kidney (I call it Kidd Rokkney) has joined the hot chocolate/cookie group on the porch. If you will excuse me, I’m going to go pour a cup and join them. Thanks for reading my story. God bless.