I had my first transplant center visit this last week. The first hurdle in the transplant acceptance
obstacle course was an orientation offered bi-monthly by the transplant center
and open to anyone seeking a kidney and/or pancreas transplant. Now, I know what your thinking – kidney AND pancreas – is this a BOGO? Raised to hold dear to the mantra ‘shop ‘til
you drop’ and ‘SALE’, my heart quickened at the possibility of a great deal. I
was certain I had stumbled across the find of a lifetime! But apparently they’re pretty stringent about
their ‘deals’ and there’s no super-shopper’s discount. But I digress…. The room was packed with potential candidates
and their support persons. It’s strange
to know you’re a part of the majority and yet still in the minority. We might all be Medicare subscribers, but if
I had to guess I’d say I was one of the few not sporting an AARP card.
As the numbers on my digital clock grew larger, so did the
stack of paper work I had to fill out. I
learned a lot though. For instance, I
now know that in order to be eligible for a transplant, at this particular center,
it is okay to be crazy (their descriptive term, not mine), but the ‘crazies’
must have a doctor’s note and be medicated.
However, your eligibility is quickly revoked if said medication consists
of tobacco or ditch weed. The latter
should be no problem – I’ve sworn off all poppy seed muffins for the foreseeable
future, and depending on whom you ask (me, myself, or I), the former should
present no impediments either. But for others in the class… their questions
lead me to believe their recreational activity of choice isn’t bowling.
It was all so very enlightening.
I often hear people musing about those manufacturers’
commercials peddling un-pronounceable prescription drugs. The drug benefits are shadowed by the list of
side effects hastily offered in a whispered sound byte. The wonder drug promotes relief from dry eyes
but may cause blurred vision, tearing, blindness, dry mouth, diarrhea and
death. But you’ll go out with moist
eyes. Seems like a totally unrealistic
trade-off, the risks far surpassing the benefits, right? I suppose it depends
on who you ask – the me from 15 years ago would have been the first to turn
down the miracle med with side effects a mile wide. Bbut the me now, and I would wager a fare
percentage of the people in that orientation room would look at it a little
differently. Risks and benefits in the
life of a chronically ill individual is a tight-wire act. I think of it a little like skydiving –
stepping off a plane a mile or so in the air isn’t for the faint of heart –
those that jump take the necessary precautions, but in the end they are placing
their faith in swatch of fabric. If all
goes well, they get the rush of a lifetime and a great story to tell. If all
does not go as planned, well, dry eyes will be the least of their worries. Similarly, the decision to be transplanted
doesn’t come lightly – For me, the potential benefits far outweigh the risk, I’ve
studied up and will take all the precautions I can, but unlike the skydiver, I’m
placing my faith in a God that is far more reliable than anything this world
can offer.
