and so it is

Recently, I experienced a close encounter with something I thought I never would: organ transplant.

It’s been less than a month since it happened and I’m starting the be myself again and picking up the pieces.

I wanted to make this public, mainly because I haven’t really talked about this outside my small circle of friends and my family. Also, because you don’t know me nor my family, you can maybe read this from a neutral POV. *oh tumblr, my little ranting space for the public to read*

My mom got sick at the beginning of 2011; needless to say it’s been difficult on all of us. Everything happened extremely fast; my family went through the same steps a family with a patient suffering from renal failure goes. We however, went through everything in less than a year. I am just starting to realize this is the first time I can catch my breath and think about other issues that do not concern my mom’s health problems. *read my last rant, hadn’t done that in a while hah*

It all began in late February: sick mom, really sick mom who refuses to go see a doctor, wtf she looks frail, we’re taking her against her will. The next day we get a call: what? wait what? rush to the hospital? is it really that bad? wait, what’s wrong? her kidneys do not work? wait, her blood is poisoned. She needs dyalisis. Wait no, no it can’t be. How? but it’s my mom, mothers don’t get sick. She is only 50.

Shock, don’t cry. Be strong for your younger siblings. Don’t cry in front of your dad, holy shit he’s crying. My mom has a huge emergency tube connected to the side of her groin. Emergency dyalisis. She’s getting her catheter tomorrow. Wait, no this isn’t happening. Breath, it’ll be good for her. Calm down, the nurses and the doctors are here in the ICU. She’ll be good.

We spent 10 days in the hospital. The saddest days I’ve experienced in my life so far. It became a decisive moment to quit my job, I was the only one at the time who could make such a sacrifice. My siblings in school, my dad working; I was the logical option.

From that moment on, I’ve been as I like to call it in “automatic mode.” Not feelings, just action.

My mom went from emergency dyalisis, to hemodyalsis. To anyone experiencing hemodyalisis: I have a lot of respect for you. It is so hard for the patient: 4 times a week for 4 hours. You get your blood taken out, filtered, and put back in your body. It’s the worst and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get that horrible image of my mom suffering while getting that out of my head. But like I said, I was in “automatic mode” and now it’s starting to hit me.

After a few months, the doctors switched to at-home dialysis and changed her neck catheter to a peritoneal. The treatment is less abusive to the body because it’s done every night while you sleep and because there’s no blood involved in the process. It was still difficult for all of us.

The months passed and both me and my brother got examined to become potential donors. We were both matches but I decided I had to do it, I went first. I only made it to the 3rd round of testings; my low levels of creatinine stopped me from continuing. It’s funny how the doctors mentally prepare you to donate but they don’t prepare you on how to act when you can’t do it anymore. I took it really hard upon myself; I felt like I failed my mom.

My brother was next. I thought he wasn’t going to make it but he did. He became the perfect match for my mother. Not only was he the same blood type but also they happened to have “twin kidneys” which is a rarity.

This whole ordeal happened fast. Apparently once you become a potential donor you have some sort of expiration date on the examinations. We had more or less a month to accept the fact that my baby brother would save my mom’s life by giving him one on his kidneys. I don’t think it’s easy to any parent to assimilate something like that, ever. It wasn’t for me, in fact I still can’t believe it happened. My younger brother made a major sacrifice; something I’ll never understand but will always appreciate.

*let’s fast forward*

My brother, after 5 hours just got to his room. He looks frail. I can’t hold my tears anymore, I grab his hand. He looks at me and I can tell he is in pain. “Where’s my mom? Is she ok?”

-“Yes, she got to the floor 30 mins before you did. The surgery went really well”

- He starts sobbing. “Is she ok?”

- “Yes, she is and you are too”

- “I only care about her”

Despite the fact that my brother was drugged up, he gave me his most selfless response. Because this is our mother. I know my parents feel so heavy hearted for what my brother had to go through. Me however, I feel so much pride. I know that what he did wasn’t for the glory but in order to safe someone: our mother. I will be forever thankful to him.

I guess my entire family is in the process of healing. Let all the scars heal, it will take some time. We all mourn in our own way, we deal with this the best we can. Now we have a clean slate. We were given the opportunity to start again, and I for once I’m not taking it for granted.

Learn to forgive. Learn to love. Don’t be afraid about what others may think of you, do what you need to fill your life with happiness while you live it. Live fast, live without chains, without regrets. Honestly life is too short and we may be rich or poor but health problems exists in all social classes.

I’m getting back to work. Getting my life back on track. Hey, maybe I could think about boys again. Going to grad school. Living.