A couple of years ago, upon hearing that my brother was in the latter stages of kidney failure, I thought, “I want him to have one of mine.”
After my retirement in December, 2013, I figured the time had come to see about making this happen. My brother had already invited me to spend the summer with him in Thousand Oaks, CA, to get out of the summer heat and enjoy the delights of that area.
I told him I wanted to meet with his kidney specialist while I was there. My brother was resistant–not wanting to do anything that might potentially harm me. I was insistent, wanting to do something that would bring good to him. I, in my naivety, figured I could spend a couple of months out there, donate the kidney and head home.
Wrong.
Instead, we entered into a long, complex process, still unfolding, still full of unknowns.
It started with his physician very much affirming that doing a preemptive transplant would be the best possible option to give my brother many more good years of life. The next step was choosing a transplant center, and UCLA was the choice. It is a leader in the field of organ transplants, and has a good success record.
It is also quite difficult to get appointments there. It took nearly two months for my brother to have his evaluation to see if he would be approved as a transplant recipient. Until that happened, they would not even talk with me as a potential donor.
He was approved late September. The next step was to find out if we are compatible: same blood type and enough tissue compatibility for a successful transplant. That was answered with a “yes” in October. Then we had to schedule my own kidney function tests and other exams to see if I can be approved as a donor.
Those begins tomorrow, January 7, 2015.
I start with a 24 hour urine collection. I’m working on looking at the positive in this. Essentially, I’m stuck in a hotel room, spending the day catching my pee. The instructions are specific and complicated and one tiny mistake can send us back to square one. A good day to catch up on reading and writing.
So, I’m at a hotel on the UCLA campus. This place is available only to those who are here for medical procedures. It’s clean, spacious, gracious and supportive–and, all things considered, reasonably priced, especially for Los Angeles. Everything is within walking distance, and shuttles are at my beck and call, should I choose not to walk. Good grocery stores, along with lots of other stores, are just a block away, and I was able to pick up a nice salad for dinner at the nearby Trader Joe’s.
After my arrival early this afternoon, my brother accompanied me to the laboratory to get the necessary collection equipment. The sweet tech I talked with walked me through the collection procedures and then asked what else I would need to do. When I mentioned, “Glucose tolerance test,” her face dissolved into sympathy and she said, “Oh, I’m so sorry!”
I will blog about it when it happens, but apparently, after a 12 hour fast, I will be fed the equivalent of five candy bars and they will watch what happens.
Stay tuned. This is only the beginning . . .
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In