Are you there, God? It's me, Sarah...




per·spec·tive
/pərˈspektiv/


a particular attitude toward or way of regarding something; a point of view.

Last week, I called my mom with a medical question. I had kneeled down on Colin's bed as I was tucking him in and was met with a sharp pain in my knee.  I looked down and my knee had begun to turn purple and swell.  We decided it was just a broken blood vessel (a really big one apparently). I said "What are the odds of me getting a broken blood vessel from just kneeling down?" She replied, "What are the odds of you getting kidney failure?"  

Haha, good point. I laughed at her comment.  Because it's true - I don't seem to have good odds. I've always said that weird things happen to me. I can't help it, I attract weirdness.  And I am ok with it. Sometimes I enjoy it, other times, I wonder why me? 

The 2nd opinion doctor told me I had bad luck.  Not only do I have a normally benign hereditary disease that only progresses to kidney failure in 5% of the patients, I am also in the extremely small percentage of people that it happens to in a short amount of time. I went from being fine in November to kidney failure in February.  A big name doc at a big name Chicago hospital had never seen a case like mine progress like this. 

After my diagnosis, as I was trying to sort things out and figure out how to start the transplant process, there were times I asked God, "WHY ME?"  I was angry with Him. I was upset. I wondered if He could hear me. I asked to be cured so I didn't have to deal with this. Because dealing with this is pretty stressful.  Especially when people around me are more concerned with how this affects them. I get a lot of that. I'm tired and cranky and hopped up on steroids that make me fat in my stomach and face (I am totally obsessed with this, I can't help it. I'm vain.)  I wondered if God could hear me since obviously he wasn't curing me. Many people (including me) believe that everything happens for a reason. Although this time I was stumped. Why me? Why now? 

But over time, I began to put things in perspective. It's not cancer, I tell myself. There is a cure.... a new kidney. Will I have to do this again in my lifetime? Hopefully in 20 years. Which means I will live a long and (mostly) healthy life with the first new kidney I receive. I'm not the typical kidney failure poster adult.  Google it and you see images of unhealthy old people, lying in a hospital bed. That's not me. 

This is me. Me and my boy at the zoo on Saturday.


I parent full time. I work full time. I go on with my life as though I am totally healthy, but I'm not. And thankfully I have the option at this point.

I found out today a friend had cancerous tumors removed.  I could be living his life, but I'm not. I have a friend who could be miscarrying. I could be living her life, but I am not. On Sunday, I watched a man beg for change on a street corner. I could be living his life, but I'm not. Minutes later, I watched an ambulance fly through the intersection, sirens blazing.  A car drove quickly behind them, flashers on. Thank goodness I wasn't living that life, watching a loved one pass possibly pass away while on the way to the hospital.

Instead I'm living MY life. And it's a pretty good life, kidney transplant pending.  

Why did this happen to me? I honestly don't know. But my perspective on it is this: maybe this is all happening to me because I can deal with it and someone else can't.  

And I think I am okay with that answer.
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