Pre Op

Last Tuesday I was in Nashville for all of my pre-op labs and appointments.  Despite the fact that the day I left for Nashville was the day from hell, my hospital experience was a fairly good one.  I was so terrified about being late that I showed up an hour early.  Before the clinic was open.  So I waited.  I had my blood pressure taken twice, an EKG, about 5 million vials of blood taken, a urine sample taken, and a lot of listening to my chest.  My surgeon even showed me exactly where each of the incisions would be.  I’m not going to lie, I’m a little excited about my new scar around my belly button where they’ll be taking the kidney out.

Today eased my mind a lot.  People kept telling me I was healthy and in good shape, which makes me think the surgery should go smoothly (I’m not superstitious, so I have no trouble saying things like this.)  I will say that I am very happy that my fiance will be with me for the surgery.  I’m a strong, independent woman, but sometimes it’s not as much fun being alone.  Especially when your surgeon is giving you the obligatory speech about all the things that could go wrong.

One thing that entertained me was when the surgeon said before any surgeon he needs to go over the benefits and risks with the patients.  Direct quote:  “So, let’s be clear on your benefits.  There are none.”

Granted, a lot of people think I’m crazy for donating my kidney to a stranger.  But I think the surgeon was a little harsh in saying there are no benefits.  Frankly, in my opinion, giving a stranger my kidney might inspire someone else (possibly a reader of my blog?) to do the same.  Then their story might inspire someone else.  And so forth and so on.  Ultimately, if this continued, wouldn’t we all benefit because someone’s life is being saved?  I don’t know the statistics on kidney failure, but I assume most people have at least interacted with someone who has had kidney failure or connected to someone who needed a kidney.

I’m a really selfish person in most aspects of my life.  I’m 25, unmarried without children, and until I move in with my fiance in the fall, I will have lived alone for 3 years.  I’ve become very accustomed to things being done my way.  I like my downtime.  I like spending my money the way I want to.  I like eating junk instead of cooking a meal for myself.  I like having cats because I can leave them alone for days and not worry about them.  But this surgery is an opportunity for me to stop thinking entirely about myself.  I won’t lie, I am stressed out about how quickly it will take me to get back to work, how much money I will miss out on, not being able to train for the 3day or run when I want to.  I also think about how nice it will be to relax for a couple weeks while I’m recovering.  This is definitely NOT a totally selfless act.  But I’m glad that I could test my character in this way.  I’m glad God could present this opportunity to me and I could actually ignore how it would affect my life and focus on who it would help.

It’s not some great act of generosity.  I feel like a fraud when people say I’m “giving the gift of life” or how selfless I am.  It’s just right.  It’s just what we’re supposed to do for each other.  No more, no less.