31 one days ago, I read my test results on my phone app. Then I stood in my kitchen and cried soft tears as my brain registered "GFR = 12". Under 15 is bad, bad, bad. 12 gets you a call from a specialist at big-name Chicago hospital whose brash bedside manner may not be the best fit for most people. "Shit, you are still a kid," he said when I told him my age. "Get in and get a transplant now." His next piece of advice was softer. "Be pro-active. Call the hospital now, and then call back to follow-up. Don't wait for them." He even gave me his personal email if I had additional questions. So I did as he advised. I called. When they told me they couldn't see me until May 22, I asked to be put on a wait list if someone cancelled. The man was surprised - they don't do that sort of thing. But I didn't let that stop me. I received all the paperwork in the mail. I found my possible donors. A few of them fax...
wife. mother. writer. kidney transplant recipient.