Tomorrow is May 1, 2023. This seems like a fitting place for this story to begin. I will be having my first meeting for a kidney transplant evaluation in Denver. Now I use the word begin loosely, because it could be where the story ends as well.
A few months ago, I started asking my doctors at dialysis and urology about the possibility of getting a kidney transplant. My tech team at dialysis was incredibly supportive and enthusiastic. They know my medical history and the difficulties I may face going through this process. My urology team was more realistic. The fact that I have been battling an aggressive form of prostate cancer for the last two years puts me in a category where I may not be a viable candidate for transplantation.
In 2022 when I was going through 45 days of radiation treatments, I had expressed my wish to my doctor that I try to go through the process of getting a transplant. He was all on board and said that he would fill out the paperwork as one of my sponsors to go through this process. With the input of all these medical professionals above I am going through this process with completely open eyes. I am not letting my enthusiasm run wild due to the possibilities of a no answer. If the answer is no that I do not get on the transplant list, then the answer is no, and I am fine with that.
I have to admit that I really like the people that I deal with at dialysis three days a week. I had a conversation with the social worker there about some of the patients being bitter over their patient status. Although I do not relish the prospect of being connected to a machine three days a week going forward, I am not bitter about all the medical issues that got me to this point. There is a spiritual dimension to my thought process being a devout Catholic. There have been times in my life where my faith has been tested and I walked away for stretches of time. When I was in the hospital two years ago, I was in a Catholic hospital, St. Anthony’s in Lakewood, Colorado. There was a crucifix over every doorway to every room. Whenever I got wheeled out, I prayed that his will be done if I am to live through this procedure, it is his will. So far in this process, Jesus has not let me down. I am still alive!
In 2010, I spent two days in the Anschutz Medical Center in Denver with my fiancé Susan. She had been diagnosed with fatty liver and chronic liver disease, also known as cirrhosis. We met with the transplant team and walked through all the processes to get Sue onto the transplant list. In 2011 we were informed that Susan was on the liver transplant list. We were overjoyed. We got engaged in November 2008 and had started to make plans for our wedding. Once Susan became terribly ill, everything got put on hold so that we could key on getting her healthy. Susan was on the transplant list for three years and never received one. She passed away in May 2014.
Now there is a difference between needing a liver and needing a kidney. I can stay alive on dialysis for years and years, but the quality of life is tested when you are connected to a machine for four hours three days a week.
Why do I give you this background on Susan?
I have been through this process, and I know not to get my hopes up too high. Susan was only 43 when she passed away. I am going to be 62 in August. I have had a great life, but I know there is a reason that I am still here. If Susan had gone on to get a transplant, I would have been her caregiver. If she were still alive, she would be my caregiver to help me through this process.
I really do not mind going through this process alone. I waged my battles on the medical front by myself for the last two years. I have had friends help with various aspects of my hospitalization and illness, but the struggle is one that I face alone. It would be nice to have more people involved in helping, but I cannot impose these aspects of my life on other people.
It has been said that no man is an island, but in this case I am.