Because yesterday was the ninth anniversary of my second kidney transplant, I thought I would share an excerpt from my book, which is in the final editing process. Maybe it's fitting that it will probably be published in September. It's a month of intense highs and lows for me.
Blindsided
Why is the word always associated with an unwelcome
surprise? The term comes from something
approaching from outside your field of vision, your “blind” side, catching you
off guard.
It’s a
situation I am only too familiar with.
With non-existent peripheral vision, people and objects always seem to
come out of nowhere. I get blindsided
almost every day. It can cause
everything from mild surprise to injury.
But, it’s
possible to be blindsided by something good.
Out of nowhere, exactly what you need.
Sometimes, it’s far beyond what you hoped for. You find yourself saying, “I never would have
expected that in a million years.”
Chance? Maybe.
Luck? Probably. God?
Yes.
There’s no
other explanation for an unexpected gift so completely unselfish that it leaves
you shaking your head in awe. A gift of
such profound generosity that Hallmark doesn’t make a greeting card to express
the gratitude you feel. That’s divine
intervention. That is all the proof
anyone needs for the existence of a mysterious, but loving God.
I guess you
could say God made me legally blind—and has blindsided me over and over since
then.
Connie
My parents
and I sat in the waiting area of transplant office at OU Med Center. I was there for a checkup with Dr.
Squires. We had been there long enough
for them to finish reading the Ft. Smith and Greenwood newspapers they had
brought to keep them entertained during the wait. Mom was reminding me of things to ask Dr.
Squires.
She added,
“And be sure to tell him that Connie wants to donate a kidney,so find out how
that works.”
What??
“What are
you talking about?” I said. “Who is Connie?”
Did I
hear her right? Someone wants to give me
a kidney?
“Didn’t I
tell you Connie Grote wants to give you a kidney?” she asked.
“No!”
“Oh, I
thought I had told you about that,” she said, a little embarrassed at the
oversight.
“Someone
wants to give me a kidney?” I asked
incredulously.
“Yes,
Connie Grote, who cuts my hair, offered to give you one.”
At that
moment, the nurse called my name and I went to have my vital signs checked,
which was the first part of a typical appointment at the transplant
office. My throat had suddenly gone dry
and I could barely speak to the nurse.
This unexpected announcement had triggered a dozen emotions all at
once.
Someone
wants to give me a kidney! I can’t
believe this. I don’t even know
her. Mom said her name is Connie
something.
I couldn’t
even remember her last name. I wanted to
dart back to the waiting area and ask my mother for more details. She had just casually dropped this
information in my lap and now I had to have my checkup. While waiting in the examining room, I
pressed my thumb and forefinger in the corners of my eyes to stop the tear
ducts. Shock, gratitude, curiosity,
desperation, hope, skepticism, worry, relief, exhilaration—those and a dozen
other emotions elbowed each other out of the way in a rush to the front of my
brain, which had suddenly grown crowded with thoughts and unfamiliar emotions I
didn’t have a name for.
“I just
found out someone wants to give me a kidney,” I told Barbara, the transplant
coordinator as she began to go over my medications on my chart.
“That’s
wonderful,” she said. I can’t remember
what else she said, or what all Dr. Squires told me when I shared the news with
him. He explained all the steps necessary
for her to be tested to make sure she was a suitable donor for me.
After my
checkup, my parents and I went to eat lunch in Bricktown, an area of Oklahoma
City with several restaurants. It was
our custom, but this time was different.
Over lunch, I told my parents what Dr. Squires had said about the
subject of a live donor and got as many details as I could from my mother.
Mom said
she had talked to Connie about my situation the last few times she had gone for
a haircut.
“One day,
she tapped me on the shoulder and said ‘I’ll give your son a kidney.’ Well, I was flabbergasted.” Mom said. So, the news had come right out of the blue
to her just as it had for me.
She went
on, “I asked her ‘Connie, what if someone in your own family needs a kidney
someday?’ She said ‘God will take care
of them.’ So I said ‘Well, OK
then.’ Can you believe that?”
There's more to that chapter, but you have the main part. It's actually the first part I wrote when I started the book. It just seemed like the right place to start. What do you think?
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Author site http://www.jimfairbanks.net/
