6. January 2009 by Carol.

And I don’t mean Oprah (although perhaps she could relate to this…who knows?).

Tonight I find myself humming the tune to “Dry Bones” as I received the report that my bones are starting to thin…osteopenia in my hip….

So thin hair…thin bones…oh for a thin body!  May this be the year!

And for those of you humming along, for your humming and singing pleasure here’s a great site that even plays it - ever so melancholic - and has the words too - http://kids.niehs.nih.gov/lyrics/bones.htm - it’s a pitiful, sad rendering.  You simply MUST listen to it (and sing along while you’re at it!).  It’ll crack you up!  And it goes on and on and on…

I am learning so much about anatomy and physiology and pharmacology as I move along in this process of living with transplantation. 

But I think I want to read the Ezekial passage now, too, and thank the Lord for my ridiculously LONG bones even if they are thinning.   Gotta get those weights out now and get serious about weight training!

Thanks for reading.

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14. December 2008 by Carol.

Today it has been one year since I was wheeled in the operating room a sick person and came out with Jaime’s kidney inside me giving me health and life.  Hard to believe!  Doesn’t seem like it’s been a year, yet at the same time it feels like an eternity ago.

 It’s been a year of healing, learning, adjusting, having really good days and having really bad days - with the entire spectrum in between.

But I’m alive today and I’m not on dialysis.  Those two things add up to one HUGE, ENORMOUS blessing!

So as I think back over the year I know that I need to repeat a number of thank yous again to people who have helped me through.

First of all I have to thank the Lord for all of His coordinating in bringing Jaime and me together in the right place and at the right time to give me back my life.  He apparently is not done with me yet!

Then, of course, I am grateful to Jaime who willingly and lovingly made the sacrifice to choose surgery and the loss of one her kidneys to give me life.  What an incredible gift!

And there are the medical professionals who have walked through this year with me:

Dr. David Holt - my wonderful, amazing surgeon at Loyola

Dr. Susan Hou - my nephrologist at Loyola who is a remarkable woman

Anita Pakrasi - my post-transplant coordinator (who has gone above and beyond!)

And others from Loyola - Dr. John Milner (Jaime’s surgeon); the other post transplant coordinators at Loyola who are on call when Anita is not available and who have, more than once, taken those weekend calls I’ve had; the staff on what was then the sixth floor post surgical unit; the staff from the ICU at Loyola and the staff at the Loyola outpatient clinic

Then there is Dr. Beth Larson, my general doctor, who I love so very much.  She is an incredible doctor and a wonderful example of a godly woman.  There is no one like her.  Dr. Greg Kozeny is my nephrologist out here where I live and he has seen me through so many years of preparing for the transplant and has helped me sort through things this past year when I have gotten confused.  I am blessed to have these doctors in my life.

The lab team from Central DuPage Hospital’s outpatient lab are such great people and really know how to “stick it to me”!  There’s Jeannie and Norma and Almas and others who have been patient and careful in all the pokes and sticks that I need to have done.  They are just great and make a visit to the hospital an almost fun experience!

There’s my sister, Barb, who is one of the most amazing and capable women I know.  She has done so much for me this year and I cannot thank her enough.

There are my “parents” John and Joanna who have seen the ugly sides of me this year and still have stuck with me.  I am so grateful for their patient and consistent love for me and their influence in my life.

I have been blessed with wonderful friends and if I try to name them all I am afraid I will miss someone’s name but I need to mention my best friend Paulette; my friend Sue and her husband Ralph; John B. who has helped me with a number of things around my house but has also been a good friend for a long time; Ray and Inger and their delightful boys Raymond and Matt; Doreen; and Dee and Laura.

Bill and Linda Richardson, the rector and deacon from my church, Church of the Savior, have blessed me with their prayers and their care and their listening hearts.  The family from Church of the Savior have prayed for me, cared about me and welcomed me back with open arms.

Then there are my friends and colleagues from work - from Awana.  God has blessed me with a great job in a great organization working with some terrific people.  I especially thank Nate for helping me get myself back on my feet again and answering all my questions on things I keep forgetting.

I know I am missing some people - and I ask for grace and forgiveness in not mentioning you.  But know that all of you who have helped me through this first year of change and adjustment have blessed me in many, many ways.

Thanks for indulging me in reading this trip down the 2008 memory road.  Next year will bring a new set of discoveries and experiences.

(And just a note - my website calendar is one day off - December 13th is my anniversary date!)

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5. November 2008 by Carol.

Tonight I am struck by the fact that the President-elect of the United States is now one generation behind me.  That’s a first in my life and serves to remind me once again that these are the years of autumn for me and really for my entire generation.

Autumn is rich and beautiful and bright but in all of those wonderful things there is a deceptive passage happening.  We long ago passed from the newness of spring to the warmth and growth of summer on to autumn where the colors and beauty actually reflect the passing of all that the previous two seasons brought forth.

But don’t get me wrong.  Passages are not bad things.  They are not morose.  Even in the change that is inevitable in any passage there is still hope for the next season and the wonder that is part of that season.  As I’ve written so many times before in this space, I recognize the place where I am at in life and sometimes struggle with it.  But on the other hand I see all that the Lord has been (and still is) building into this life called “Carol Anderson”.  I thank the Lord for the gift of life that was given to me in this season.  Hope has sparked again for me like the elegant fragrance of burning autumn leaves.

Tonight on the television I saw a crowd of cheering young people smiling as they watched their candidate take to the podium and cast his vision for our nation’s future.  We are indeed passing the torch of the adult world of our society to include a younger and stronger generation.  In that torch passing my prayer is that this younger and stronger generation will accept it soberly, acknowledging the wisdom that has fired and fueled the flame of it…willing to tap that wisdom as they take it with their youthful strength.

This particular post is dedicated to my beloved nephews and my beautiful niece-in-law who are part of that new generation.  Russell and Roger, you have always been a joy to me from the very day you were born.  My prayer is and always will be that you will honor the foundation that has been laid for you in the generation before yours.  Angie, you are a delight beyond compare.  You have blessed me as you have grown, even in just the short two years I have known you, into a strong, godly woman, one who is truly the partner that God had in mind for Russell.

You are all now part this new adult generation.  This is your time to pass from your spring to the summer of your lives to learn and accept and persevere in the growth and change this season will undoubtedly bring to you. 

Tonight our nation is turning a new page.  Passages…torches being handed from an older, yet still strong hand to another younger and stronger hand.  May you of this new adult generation carry it with honor and grace and pursue the race that this torch signifies with all the goodness and strength that has been built into you from those who have lead you to this place in time.

 As always, thanks for reading.

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29. October 2008 by Carol.

Autumn is by far my favorite season.  For me, there is nothing like pulling out my sweaters and sweatshirts and warm jammies.  I start yearning for chili and soup and all those comforting, ”non-summer” kinds of things.  Even as I write this I am simmering chicken for a pot of homemade chicken soup.  I’ve just been craving it.  That’s autumn.

In contrast to the burst of bright, happy colors that appear in the spring, the colors in autumn are rich reds and deep goldens and the sky is so very, very blue.  The smell of burning leaves, cool breezes in the air and the lights of farm machinery in the fields at night as the farmers hasten to reap the golden rewards of their summer’s toil.  These are autumn to me as well. 

And then there are the geese who seem louder than ever in the fall, honking overhead as they seek out a post-harvest field to glean the sheaves for their own.  It’s a beautiful, almost mournful sound for this season but then I wish they’d fly south.

Hot cocoa, hot cider, pumpkins, corn bundles, straw bales…autumn…Autumn…AUTUMN!!!  Such a delightful time.  I love autumn.

I am in an interesting portion of my life.  I would venture to say it is the autumn of my life.  Things are changing, the breath of spring and the exhuberance of summer in my life are both fading fast.  But yet here I am with this new kidney, this new lease on life, this new found energy that has been missing for so long.

There is a dichotomy going on for me.  On one hand I am now starting to sort through and pare down the belongings in my home.  Deciding which things I would like to keep for now and which things have spent their usefulness for me.  It’s a new experience for me.  So different from younger days when I was enjoying bringing my home to life to reflect my personality and my passions, my faith and the people and things I love.

Most of my friends now are in the stage of their lives where they are caring for elderly parents and welcoming grandchildren.  The joys and sorrows that come from welcomes and departures are bittersweet.  While I will never have grandchildren, I deeply love the children that are in my life now - my friends’ grandchildren, the children of my younger friends, the children in my church.  The time of caring for and ultimately releasing parents passed for me earlier in my years.  Now I can encourage my friends who are facing it because I have walked that road already.  And yet, I, too have people coming and leaving in my life in many different ways.  I am learning that grief remains an unwelcome part of every stage of life.

But conversely I am also experiencing a reblooming of dreams that have been dormant for so long.  Refining my writing, picking up the cello again, singing, creating beauty, teaching others skills that I have learned in my life - these dreams are coming are nudging to come alive again.  I want to learn to dance and play the piano and maybe even sew!  I want to mature in my faith, my emotions, my skills and in wisdom.  I want to learn to love more and care more for those the Lord has brought into my path over the years.  These are all things that even now in the autumn are still bursting forth in my spirit in a great explosion of longing.

Learning to live with certain limitations is also a part of this stage in life.  The spirit is willing - sometimes even excited - but the flesh is weak.  Sometimes it’s that “old Arthur Itis” (as my dearest Aunt Martha would say).  Sometimes it’s a stressful work week that finally catches up with me when I plop in my chair on a Friday night.  It can be the weariness of emotions that stir up as I look at the sadness that, if we were honest with ourselves, surrounds all of us at various times in our lives and often hangs around longer than we wish.  And for me, sometimes it’s the weariness of setting my drugs out and fighting infections and being careful to take care of myself and this gift of life inside me.   All of these things create certain limitations for me that I am learning to live with, adjust to, accept and still keep going.

But would I change any of it?  Probably not.  Autumn is a season of passing but it is also a season of abundance and beauty.  Sure I’d like to know what I know now and be twenty years younger so I could have the energy to do all those things I dream about.  But that’s not possible.  Sure I’d like to act more my age than I do.  I’m learning how to do that under the loving care of wise people in my life.  Would I choose to not take the kidney just because of the abundance of drug bottles that now grace my home or the infections that sometimes stubbornly hang on?  Absolutely, positively not. 

Even in sorrow there can be joy.  Even in sadness there can be growth.  In weariness needed rest is often provided.  Even in passages there can be abundance.  The Lord is persisting in His desire for me to learn these things.  I am grateful for that hound of heaven that dogs at my heals even in my favorite season.  Autum is truly a rich season.

 Thanks for reading.

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16. October 2008 by Carol.

In this writing I first want to make clear that I am NOT making any kind of political statement.  I have friends who are voting for McCain and friends who are voting for Obama.  We have free choice in this country and the freedom to vote every four years for a peaceful transition of power in the largest nation in the free world.  We are blessed to have that privilege.  So please don’t take this as either making or encouraging any kind of voting stand.

But I’d like all of you who maybe still read this to consider a statement that Senator McCain made in the debate tonight.  If you are a supporter then please write to him toencourage him to change his position and/or publicly rescind his remarks if he misspoke.  If you are an Obama supporter then write to Mr. Obama’s camp and ask him his stand in this. 

OK  (finally…) all that said - here is the comment Senator McCain made just a few minutes ago during their discussion on healthcare.  He spoke of “golden cadillac” insurance policies that include “plastic surgery and transplants” - you can imagine that comment got my immediate attention.

I went to his website and wrote him an email discussing where many or most transplant recipients would be without having the insurance coverage that helped us receive our lives back.  I was dismayed to hear him equate organ transplants with elective plastic surgery.

 Better yet, here’s a phone number for their naional HQ - 703-418-2008.

So, please, whoever you support, would you ask Mr. McCain to clarify his comments.  And if he indeed stands by those comments that you would continue the dialog by showing him where he is wrong?

I guess I am making the supposition that you would indeed think he is wrong.  I hope you do.

Thanks for all the support you have given me over these 10 months.

And thanks for reading.

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1. August 2008 by Carol.

I know that some of you would say “Now Carol if you were being spiritual you would know that the Cross is the great equalizer.”  Others of you who are more pragmatic would tell me that death is the world’s great equalizer.

But I am here today to declare “hah!” to all those theories.  It is chocolate – there is no doubt in my mind.  Chocolate – a taste of heaven right here on earth! Let me tell you why I’ve made this conclusion.  Pull up a chair.  This is quite a story (and I LOVE to expound on it!).

I was scheduled for a test last week that required that I consume something they sneakily called a “drink”.  OK – I opened up the container, took a whiff, kind of shrugged and thought, “well it smells like orange Tang so it ought to be okay”.  I proceeded to begin to pour this “drink” down my throat.

The initial response of the taste buds on the front of my tongue was “not too bad”- tolerable – I can do this.  But then it got past those little guys and started going down my throat.  All of a sudden it was like it turned into Satan personified right there in the back of my mouth!  OH MY GOSH!!!  I couldn’t stop it – there was no calling it back before it went down and then decided of its own accord to return from whence it came.

I called the medical facility where I was to have the test done and explained the situation and that I couldn’t keep the stuff down.  The woman at the other end was unsympathetic (sometimes I think that all of you who provide medical services to patients ought to experience it yourself first!  - the aforementioned Dr. Susan Hou is excepted here…).  She kept reminding me that I had a 9 o’clock appointment and I needed to be there a half hour before to register (it was 8:25 and I live 15 minutes away – you do the math). That if I was late then it would cause a domino affect for the rest of their day.   I kept telling her that hurling and driving just don’t go together but her opinion was not to be deterred.

So I grabbed my purse and the container of this satanic potion to drink when I got there and did my level best to get there as quickly as possible.  And, of course, in the middle of downtown I got a long, slow freight train!

I ultimately reached the hospital, got myself in line for registration only to recall that I left the doctor’s orders at home!  Ugh!  It was all more than I could take (and not just the remaining “drink”) and so I rescheduled the thing for this morning and grabbed another container of “satan” so I could try to prepare for the test once more.

This new iteration of the stuff had the gall to call itself “Creamy Vanilla Latte’” or something exotic like that.  I was told to make sure it was very cold and maybe even consider drinking it through a straw (that, to me, seemed like it would only slow the torture so I opted out on that choice).

I had already planned to not even try to consume this stuff until I got to the hospital.  I was going to get there an hour and a half early so I could get registered and, as instructed, drink it slowly over the hour prior to the test.

Well, being the curious person that I am (as well as prudent and one who learns from past experience – or maybe fears from it instead) I had to take a tiny taste before I left.  So I shook the container with all my might, took the screw top off, pulled back the hermetic seal and took a whiff.  Once again the smell lured me in saying “I’m good, don’t be afraid, try me – you’ll like me” and on and on.  I bit.  I got a spoon and took a taste.

Those little front taste buds went “mmmmmm” and then the liquid poison proceeded south in my body.  Whoa!  OH NO!!!!  It was all a LIE!  I was duped!  Bleckkkkk!  I knew that this stuff in its present form was NOT going to pass this way again..

I called the hospital again, got to the CT lab phone and this time (whew!) got a very friendly person named Sandy who felt my pain, knew my plight, exuded sympathy!  Then her magic words came over the phone line…

“TRY PUTTING CHOCOLATE IN IT!”  The stuff of heaven!  Yes!

So I squeezed a little Hershey’s in it until it achieved the proper shade of a chocolate beverage, replaced the lid, grabbed my purse and headed out still determined that I wasn’t going to attempt mixing hurling and driving (friends don’t let friends drive…!)

Got there, did all the opening act of registering, etc., headed upstairs for the CT lab and another Sandy (that became a happy name for me today) pleasantly nodded with understanding and lead me to a private bathroom where I could attempt to wrestle with satan again yet still be prepared if he won!

I shut the door, shook the container, removed the lid and took a whiff.  “MMMMMMM” my brain said, “smells like a yummy chocolate shake!”  (“This is your brain…this is your brain on drugs…any questions?”)  Over the lips, past the gums – look out stomach here it comes. 

I glugged it down and, of course, my deceitful tongue did it to me again.  But this time it was the smell of the chocolate that kept me going.  The first glug went down and threatened upon landing so I drank a little water, took a deep breath and kept on.  I took another whiff of the chocolate, tricked my brain into keeping that chocolate smell foremost in my thoughts and took the next glug of hell.  Same cycle – glug, sip water, deep breath, relax. 

OK – two down maybe three more to go…I pushed on feeling giddy that the smell of chocolate wouldn’t fail me.  Once again, sniff the chocolate, trick the mind, take the glug, sip the water, breathe the air, relax.  That third one was a little more difficult but I pressed on knowing I was beating against the very gates of hell.  Once more, sniff, trick glug sip, breathe, relax.  Then I knew it was all over.  If I attempted to continue this onslaught I would lose.  Quit while you’re ahead my stomach wisely told me.

So I checked with the friendly Sandy at the front to see if I had consumed enough of this death dredge to sufficiently perform the test.  She checked with the technician and (oh the joy of it all!) the answer was yes!  I’d made it!  I’d beaten the odds!  The gates of hell had NOT prevailed!

And it was all because of those five little words I’d heard earlier “Try putting chocolate in it!”

Yes, I know that it was not just the chocolate – it was also the grace of God to put all the right people in my path this morning to give me the right advice and the right encouragement at the right time.  I am oh so grateful for his direction of today’s adventure.

But, hey, didn’t God create chocolate in the first place??

Thanks for reading…

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8. May 2008 by Carol.

Have you ever heard what an Ebenezer is?  You know in that old hymn we sing “Here I raise my Ebenezer….” - being the bold person I am, I once asked the pastor of a church I went to years ago what an Ebenezer was.  He said that it is the name for the piles of stones - stone altars - that the children of Israel would erect when they had a remarkable encounter with God.  An altar of remembrance for what the Lord had done in that spot.

I started my own Ebenezer a number of years ago.  If I am in a location where the Lord has done something significant in my life I find a stone from that place and add it to the pile I have in a bowl on my bathroom sink counter.  It has brought me great encouragement over the years when I look at it and consider what it is.

Well recently I got a CD by Steve Bell called Symphonies and it is a compilation of songs he has done on other recordings but in this one he is working with the Toronto Symphony to enhance the music just that much more.

 One of my favorite songs recorded by him is Here by the Water (it’s actually written by an amazing songwriter named Jim Croegaert) and in it he talks about building an altar of rough stones “here by the river”.  They are rough stones but he sets them down before the Lord saying “knowing you can make them holy”

Most rivers are in a river valley of some kind.  In some cases those valleys are surrounded by mountains.  As I was thinking about this at various times today while I listened to the song, I got to thinking about how easily we can rejoice when we are in the beautiful, glorious, majestic mountains.  When we are on the top of the mountains we can see for miles and miles.  Vision of what’s out there comes easily because we are above it.

But when we’re in the valley, our view is simply limited to that valley.  The mountains block any view beyond the valley.  Sometimes those same majestic mountains end up looking daunting and unfriendly instead.

So I give you all these word pictures to give some clarity on the state of my life right now.  I am in a very deep valley now surround by very big mountains.  Those mountains look beautiful and enticing - luring me to climb them and experience their beauty and the vision beyond the valley.  But the view from the valley only makes them look daunting.  They don’t lose their beauty but suddently that beauty becomes something to be feared instead of drawn to.

And so this new portion of my recovery from the transplant includes this deep valley that makes me feel fearful instead of adventurous.  It’s born from the many drug side effects, stressful feelings trying to keep up with all I need to do both at work and at home.  And I’m feeling very anti-social which in turn leads to loneliness (self imposed mind you).  So that’s sort of a bird’s eye overview of where I’m at right now.  I don’t want to do anything, go anywhere, see anyone - but of course that’s not a reality and I force myself to do things that are “normal.” until it tuckers me out or overwhelms me.

So here’s this simple yet profound song that keeps speaking to me:

“And here by the water I’ll build an altar to praise Him, Out of the stones that I’ve found here,  I’ll set them down here rough as they are. Knowing You can make them holy.”

So right now my whole brain feels like a pile of stones - really, really rough sharp stones.  I want to get to a place where I can take them and build an altar to praise Him - knowing He can make them holy.

And I look at the bowl of rough stones I have on my bathroom sink counter and by remembering where they came from and the significance of what happened in each place they were from - knowing He has made them holy.  A holy remembrance of His good work in me.

So now I have this figurative pile of rough, cutting stones in my brain and in my heart.  I need to figure out a way to gather them and figuratively lay them down to build an altar to praise him.  This will be very difficult because they are enormous rocks - heavier than I can lift.  But I know that if I give up my stubbornness and let Him help me move them - actually just allow Him move them himself  (he doesn’t need MY help - just my cooperation) and arrange them into a pile that will praise him, my life would change dramatically and wouldn’t feel overwhelming like it does now.  I know deep in my heart that He can do it even if I can’t and that it will be for the grace and strengthening of my life.

I will report as it unfolds.

Thanks for reading.

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18. April 2008 by Carol.

Recently I was the blessed recipient of an amazing mobile phone.  I received it from work so that I can “run but I can’t hide”!  It’s actually an incredible little piece of equipment and I am loving it.  Not sure what I ever did without it!  (yes, I believe I’ve moved into the “geek” category now and I’m proud of it!)

Anyhow, on this phone is a game called BrickBreaker and a couple of weeks ago I was playing around with it while I was waiting for a doctor appointment and got hooked on it.  It’s a very simple game of, essentially, electronic pinball but at each level it gets a bit more difficult to move past that round.  I’ve only made it to level 10 out of 34 so far but I’m still kind of proud of that achievement (I’m still new at this “geek” stuff).

This game has several enhancements that are provided to you if you hit the right “bricks” with your pinball.  There’s “long” that makes the player’s paddle longer so you have more surface to bounce the little ball from and thus a greater chance of keeping it up in the air.  There’s “slow” which slows the speed of the ball.  There’s “gun,” “bomb,” and “laser” that provide extra ammunition for you to demolish the bricks and up your score.  And there’s “flip” that makes the player’s paddle go the opposite direction of the button and it gets VERY confusing.  I avoid that one as much as possible.

And then there’s “life” which gives you another chance to play the game if you make a mistake and miss the ball when it comes back down to the paddle.

So last night I was playing this game for a few minutes and the little “life” enhancement came tumbling down for me to use.  And it suddenly occurred to me that in some ways the enhancements of this game are much like how I feel at times.  There are times when I feel “long” and can make the extra effort to complete something that I might not be able to on other days.  And there are times when I feel like the bomb or the laser or the gun when I have something in me that gives me the extra ammunition I need to search and destroy the bricks in my life.

And then there’s the dreaded “flip” and I admit that too often I feel like that.  I feel like everything around me has been flipped around and doesn’t do what I think it should do.  Sometimes my memory fails me just when I need it the most.  Sometimes my body flips me around (not literally - that would be quite a site wouldn’t it?) and prevents me from something I may have planned for that day.  Either way, flipped is not a good feeling and I am slowly learning to adjust to those unexpected times when “flip happens”.

But then there’s “life” and that word I looked at last night when all this little analogy came into my head.  LIFE - that’s an amazing word.  Merriam-Webster has many definitions for it.  Among them are:

• the quality that distinguishes a vital and functional being from a dead body
• the sequence of physical and mental experiences that make up the existence of an individual
• the period of duration, usefulness, or popularity of something
• the period from birth to death
• spiritual existence transcending physical death

In the last couple of years my view of life as taken some dramatic swings.   I found myself at times wondering if my “period of duration, usefulness, or popularity” was coming to an end soon.  I thought often about the “period from birth to death” because, once again, I was pretty sure the end of that period was coming very soon.  And so I often thought about the idea of life being “spiritual existence transcending physical death” because of my relationship with God.

But last night I looked at that word LIFE and realized that I have it back again!  That it is more likely than not that this will NOT be the year that I see the end of my “period of duration, usefulness, or popularity” (I’ve never been popular so that aspect was over before it started…).  Yet in looking at it last night I found a sense of peace that I haven’t had in awhile.  It goes back to the whole idea of planning my life instead of planning my funeral that I wrote about a couple of months ago.

While life as I know it now is not a bed of roses - there are still plenty of struggles and stresses - I would not change the choice I made for this transplant for ANYTHING!  And how very, very grateful that Jaime felt the same way four months ago.  

I’ve made a LOT of mistakes in my life - done a LOT of things I regret.  But “life” has given me another chance to play the game and increase my score and move to the next level. 

LIFE - it’s a beautiful choice!

Thanks for reading.

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2. April 2008 by Carol.

Tonight I was reminded that, in Illinois, April is Donate Life! Month - a time when Illinois residents are encouraged to register to be an organ donor.  I’ve watched the public service announcements that they have had on TV each April the last couple of years and wondered if I’d ever be among the group of people who would have a story to tell like those they feature in the PSA’s.  This year I watch them with very different eyes and very different feelings and, of course, a story to tell.  If you live in Illinois and haven’t registered to be a donor under the new laws of registering through the online registration site, please visit www.lifegoeson.com and sign up.  It takes less than a minute and will give others hundreds of thousands of additional minutes to their lives with your gift.  (p.s. - I learned today that there is a national website that has a list of each state’s organ donor websites.  So for those of you out there not in Illinois it’s http://donatelife.net/index.php )

Thanks for reading!

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1. April 2008 by Carol.

One thing I had learned prior to the surgery is that one of the drugs I’d be taking for life could likely cause my hair to slowly fall out.  Now I’ve never had thick, stunning golden locks anyhow so I was a bit apprehensive about losing even more of what little I have but the alternative drug to it had even worse side effects.  This morning as I get ready to jump in the shower and start my day I am noticing the size of the wad of hair that is in the hair catcher.  And I’ve noticed a little more “glow” off the top of my head lately and I notice that when I wear dark colors there are more curly blonde/gray threads hanging on to my clothes.  I can tell when I put my hair in a pony tail that it takes one more wrap around to have it tight enough.

These are things I knew I’d have to wrestle with when I made the decision to go ahead with the drug.  Do I regret the decision?  Absolutely not.  Am I struggling with the reality of it now?  Certainly.  I’ve always thought my hair was my one good asset and now it’s down the drain (pun intended).  I don’t think I’ll ever be bald but it’ll be interesting to see how much I ultimately lose. 

So now I’m trying to decide what I’m going to do about this in my head (as opposed to on my head…) and heart.  I know there will be ongoing wrestling and perhaps even some grieving somewhere down the road.  But I’m hoping I can also make something good out of this as well to help myself live with it and to hopefully encourage others in the same predicament.

It’s an interesting life but I’m grateful to have it right now and I’m glad to have to wrestle with these things.  Last year I thought I was ready for the alternative but I don’t think I quite am yet.  So by the Lord’s grace I will keep experiencing all these new experiences with my new kidney.

Thanks for reading!

Posted in A Kidney for Carol - thoughts on the transplant | 2 Comments »