Surgery day has been booked and confirmed for February 25th
early in the morning, and my mother’s will be the same day right after mine
(while I’m in the recovery room)!
|
Test results: my total kidney function |
I was first admitted over a year ago on November 6th
2013. I went into the hospital with
mother that morning; I was her translator. She was preparing for her surgery to
rid both her kidneys: they were both as large as little babies. In fact, many times she took transit, people
would give her their seat thinking she was pregnant. She was no longer fighting or spending energy
to tell people that she was fine for the seat.
I was relieved to hear that they were getting rid of them; these
kidneys have only caused problems for her since it was diagnosed with PKD. They allowed her to keep it because it still
had 3% function. 6 years later, they went
down to nearly nothing. Not only were they
not functioning properly, they were causing her a lot of abdominal pain and problems. She wasn’t able to eat much because it was
pushing on her stomach and other organs, constantly causing gastric reflux, nausea and
upset stomach.
|
Visiting her grand daughter 2015 |
I see her and am thankful she is still alive. She tells me all the time that if she had not
immigrated, she would have been long gone.
She told me there would have been nothing for her and even if there was
something, she would not have been able to afford it. I imagined what other people are going
through in worse conditions. We are so incredibly
lucky.
“We will have to get to the kidney and crush it up into small pieces
inside of her...”. The surgeon tells me to translate. I thought about it and made a disgusted
face. This was the only way they can get
those two large “babies” out of her! Gross! They had to cut it up inside of her, otherwise
she would have too large of an incision.
This is happening for real! I translated it to mother and she starts to
cry. I had to keep going. She tells me to explain to the surgeon that
she was scared. I did. I almost sobbed out loud. I didn’t want to show that I was scared for
her too. I held it in and distracted
myself with talking. I thought about how
she declined my offer to donate my kidney 6 years ago, and again 1 year earlier
when I had mentioned it. If she had agreed to this earlier, her kidney's wouldn't have grown so big.
I knew, it was now or never.
I made the decision that day to donate my kidney to her even if she
refuses. I translated as I was supposed to, but adding
in questions of my own about how the donation would work. I needed to start the process right away. I got the package that
day. I told my mother’s entire team to
not let her know till I have finished with all the testing and it is confirmed
safe for me to do so. They agreed and
worked with me.
|
Mother and me 2005 |
|
I think about it, and imagined
myself being her. I mean, she was my age
once believing that everything is fine and will be alright, and then the
disease, and still, she tells me everything is fine. She wasn’t scared till now. She was just thankful that we have a good
health care system. Always reminding me
that I am in Canada, and the government will take care of its people. I thought about that, and it’s true! If I were to be homeless elsewhere, no one
would care if I had a place to live or not.
For all that I know, I could have been long gone as well without any medical coverage.
The long journey awaits.
I’m not quite sure what to feel yet, but I know I’m doing this, and for
the right reasons.