I feel badly when I don't blog regularly. Like I'm letting you all down, especially M, my most faithful reader with whom I shared a delightful, chatty lunch yesterday!
Yoga is awesome. I have teacher training again this weekend. I teach my parents again tomorrow. I worked up a nice sequence for them, focusing on spinal strength and flexibility in a gentle way. When I get some free time (hah!) I'll start posting my sequences either here or on Yoga Journal so you can check them out and maybe use them. :)
I also created a brief anti-Anxiety sequence that I'll post here ASAP.
My family life continues to flourish. Spring is here, and there's a warm and hopeful glow to all of our activities. The wrap up of the school year has its own rhythm and rewards.
This weekend, we had a fabulous time in LA and Santa Monica, attending the ever-awesome Festival of Books at UCLA. More to come about my experiences with authors there.
My work is getting better by the week. Not only am I continuing to increase my skills, but my business is growing through word of mouth. I am so excited and gratified to have such meaningful, flexible, professional work with words.
Finally, like this isn't enough for anyone, I am seriously considering becoming a live kidney donor to an acquaintance who is rapidly becoming a friend. Life stepped forward and matched us up. I just came back from four hours at the hospital, leaving behind 16 vials of my blood to be checked for every disease and health issue imaginable. Four of those ruby-red beauties will be combined with my friend's blood in a tissue-typing test. If her cells don't reject mine, we're good to move forward towards the surgical event!!!
I feel so amazingly good about this and positive. She is an amazing person and I would be so honored to give her a chance for kidney function and restored health. Please everybody pray that our tissues match!!!! The results will be back by next week.
Below are notes that I wrote while waiting for my turn at the blood draw:
Wednesday, April 30, 2009
11:16 am
Traffic clogged the freeway but eventually I arrived. A cluster of unhealthy looking people, mostly older, sat in the grey vinyl chairs. R the receptionist, her black hair curled and spilling over her shoulder, was in front of the counter, greeting them with friendliness and making sure that everybody was in the right place. One older man was there only to visit, stopping by for a chat and friendly smiles before heading on to wherever in the hospital his appointment of the day waited. I wondered about him. Were his kidneys failing? Did he have diabetes?
R handed me some paperwork, asking me to fill out the form myself. I still hesitated at the SSN spot, finally choosing only to provide the last four digits. My later glimpse of K’s SSN on one of my forms confirmed this caution. Good thing I’m trustworthy. R strapped the orange plastic bracelet around my right wrist. Just like that I had a new identity. I became a patient, a receiver of services, a clog in the industrial hospital machine.
L, my friendly blonde social worker, needed to talk to me. In her small office, more paperwork waited. An informed consent form of six pages for me to sign. L was hesitant about my acceptance, encouraging me to read very carefully while still assuring me that I wasn’t committing to anything irrevocable. I could tell I’m a bit of a puzzle to her, bright and friendly, informed but still almost blithe in waving away the risks and concerns that she raises.
She brought up some good considerations. L pointed out that after donation some people have trouble getting health insurance. The surgery and having only one kidney can be seen as a “pre-existing condition.” That gives me more pause than the physical risks. At a physical level, I’m confident that this is a safe and manageable procedure. I’m fairly healthy and believe I will remain that way. It’s the bureaucratic and psychological implications of the surgery that dissuade me.
It’s impossible to predict what the future implications or results of this operation might be. I could develop diabetes. I could suffer from physical complications. I could wish that I had my kidney for other purposes – to keep my health insurance, to preserve my own health, to donate to someone else, maybe someone I love more than this casual acquaintance. But I firmly believe that life involves unknown risks. You move forward with Faith and cope with what comes. God knows I’ve already coped with quite a few challenges; surely I will be able to handle whatever arises.
My biggest fear is probably rejection at some level. Interesting huh? The lengths to which I go to feel accepted. On the other hand, this process of giving and receiving, of offering and being accepted is probably one of the most psychologically healthy and even physically healing things I could do.
After waiting at the window to make sure my orange folder of Orders is taken in by a real person, I set up my portable office. I don’t enjoy waiting, but with my laptop I’m happy as a lark writing down my observations and continuing my grants. Really, I’d be writing at home, all alone, so at least this set-up has the benefit of adult companionship. It’s like a coffee shop, except I’m kneeling on the floor and there’s no frothy beverage. There is however daytime tv, the voices of the talk show hosts earnestly and stridently drifting across the room and the dazed and bored occupants.
5 comments:
That's so great that you are volunteering to be a live kidney donor. What a blessing!
Thanks for sharing!
George Lichter
You're a saint
And I'm jealous you got to go to something called "Festival of Books"
Thank you, George.
Andrew-
I'm far from being a saint. But it feels like something that might be right for me to do.
And, yes, you are jealous. We go to the Festival of Books every year, and it always ROCKS. Thousands and thousands of books and authors and bookstalls and READERS. It boggles the mind.
When your book hits big time, your publisher will send you out to it, and then our families can get together!!
Wow on the kidney donation and kudos to you for your generosity. I think it's outright shameful that you could be denied health insurance for such a selfless act. I hope it all works out well.
Thank you, Shalet.
It is a sad state of affairs. At this point, the possibility of even maybe not having health insurance in the future is the most significant obstacle to me moving forward. Sad, huh? I'm absolutely confident that I can live healthily with just one kidney, but I have no guarantees that I won't need to change my health insurance plan. Sigh.
Post a Comment