I've been suffering from writer's block for the past 3 days, leaving this post about the transplant to sit, half-finished and well, un-posted. Each day I've tweaked it, but I haven't been able to get it just right. I finally realized this morning that no matter what I write, there are no words that will do justice to such a profound and moving event. So here it goes...
As they say, a sibling relationship is the longest relationship one can have. Lately, this truth has weighed heavy on my thoughts. Chris is my only sibling. And his life-threatening diagnosis has been a difficult thing for me. I have spent a lot of time, recently, thinking back to our childhood and remembering the ups and downs that Chris and I have shared.
Chris is 4 years older than me, which seemed to prove just the right amount of years to abundantly outsmart, overpower, and embarrass the shy little sister that I was. Chris showered me with brotherly love in all of the typical ways, through ruthless antics (like placing a dead tarantula on my pillow) and rough games (like catapulting me from a trampoline) and life lessons (like teaching me to use a stick shift.) Those stories are fun to remember, but it is the sweeter moments that have had the deeper impact on my life. As long ago as it was, I can still vividly recall Chris's caring efforts to shelter me from the hardship of our parent's divorce. And from everything from boyfriend trouble and the loss of pets to infertility and the loss of our grandparents, Chris has been there for me. As we've grown up, our relationship has evolved, but an unwavering companionship remains.
Having said all of that, I will do my best to tell the story. But if you want to see some great photos and a more entertaining account, I suggest you visit
Jordan's blog.
Chris was diagnosed with kidney disease several years ago. The disease progressed, treatments failed, and Chris eventually became too sick to work. Everything seemed to be falling apart around him. He would need a transplant. And I wanted so badly to be the donor. It was never about being a
savior or the grand gesture of it, it was just about a sister getting a chance to repay a brother for all he has brought to her life. However, my hopes were crushed from the start. During the phone screening, I learned that because I had recently had a baby, I was physically unfit for organ donation. But thankfully, countless other family members and friends volunteered.
Wanda was the first to be tested, and she made it through the first of several rounds. Chris's friends, Sean, Derrek, Jeff, and Tony, went in as a group for testing. It quickly became a competition between them. I never realized how much trash one could talk about another's kidney and/or blood type. The more redundant and ridiculous the jokes became, the funnier it got. Chris enjoyed it. It was refreshing to see him loosen up and laugh. He was the center of attention as his best friends fought over the chance to give up their kidneys and save his life. It was truly awesome.
Jeff was eliminated from the donor pool because of blood type. Which really isn't humorous at all, but the others still managed to make fun of him for it. It was eventually determined, based on the test results, that Derrek was a slightly better match than the others. He moved forward with a grueling day of testing. The results came back and it turned out that he was "exactly what they were looking for." I was glad it would be Derrek. He wanted it so badly and for the same reasons I had. He and Chris have a special bond that spans their lifetimes.
The transplant was scheduled for September 17th. Time passed very quickly as family and friends pulled together to finish Chris's and Wanda's house so that he could recover in the comfort of his own home.
The morning of the surgery was fraught with anxiety. Mom, Dad, Paula, Patsy, Michael, Destiny, Adam, Lea, Wanda, Jordan, Sean, Willa and I all stood by as Chris and Derrek waited, donning backless gowns, lying side by side in hospital beds. They passed the time and eased the tension with their typical juvenile humor. Chris stretched a latex glove down over his head and blew it up with his nose. They joked about their nakedness, the pretty nurses and how Wanda and Jordan had better watch them. And of course, they discussed plans of transplanting
other bodily organs, with one in particular. If you can imagine.
The jovial mood immediately changed as soon as the nurse came to wheel Derrek off to his surgery. In that moment, everyone was reminded of Derrek's paramount gesture. And we were all overcome with gratitude, especially Chris.
Toward the end of Derrek's surgery, Chris's nurse came for him. As he passed the waiting room, where we all anxiously stood by, he asked the nurse to stop and let him kiss Willa goodbye. With all of the anti-rejection drugs he will be taking post-surgery, he will have to keep his distance from small children (and other germ risks.) He loves her so much, it will not be easy.
The first sigh of relief came when we got word that Derrek's surgery was complete and all had gone smoothly. The surgeon brought Jordan a video of the entire thing, and we watched it while we waited out Chris's surgery. Once Derrek was moved to his own room, the Penicks went to see him and the Kaisers moved to the ICU to await Chris's arrival. Apparently Derrek was still pretty high on pain meds and making everybody laugh. As the call came in to let them know that Chris was out of surgery, Derrek was once again overcome with emotion, and tearfully asked "Is it working yet?" And everybody cried with him, happy to hear the good news.
Back in ICU, Chris's face was full of color and he was making lots of urine, which was a great sign that the new kidney was doing it's job. Still pretty sleepy and loopy, he was also telling stories, making jokes, and entertaining. He told his new ICU doctor that his surgeon had grown too tired during the surgery and that he, himself, had to finish it up. (But, of course, it wasn't any big thing for Chris.) And when poor, anxious Wanda first came in to see him, he greeted his new bride with, "And who are you?" (The doctor mentioned that he might have gotten a little too much pain medication.) By the time I got in to see him, Chris was mostly asleep. Wanda and I were talking and he opened his eyes for just a minute, told us to "carry on" and then drifted back to sleep. Even though he was out of sorts, it was good to see a few glimpses of our old Chris.
Sean and I went up to Derrek's room to check on him before we headed home. He was wearing his ratty old baseball cap, his eyes were barely slit open, (hand firmly gripping his morphine drip,) and he was watching the video of his surgery. It was hilarious, yet almost painful, to watch him fight sleep. Every couple of minutes, he would start to nod off, but he never gave into it. He just kept smiling, enjoying the company and attention, and entertaining all of us with stories about the surgery (stuff we already knew.) As we turned to leave, Derrek called out to Sean (the non-donor,) gestured the loser sign and said, "It's official." Game over.
As I hope I've been able to convey, it was a very emotional day (and week.) I have so much love for both Derrek and Chris. I am eager to see Chris bounce back and use this gift to do great things with his life. And I am eternally grateful to Derrek, not only for the gift he has given my brother, but for what he has given a sister.
The whole family got together tonight to celebrate the wonderful exchange that is about to take place. On Wednesday, Derrek and Chris will undergo the greatly anticipated kidney transplant. For Derrek, it is about giving the gift of all gifts, the gift of life, to his oldest, dearest friend and cousin. And for Chris, it means a life-saving, life-changing act of selflessness and love from his oldest, dearest friend and cousin. Jimmy toasted the two of them on behalf of the family. It was very heartfelt and touching, and left everyone speechless. Except for Chris, who stood up and graciously expressed his gratitude. The whole evening was amazing. This is what family is about. Vernon and Zola would be so proud.