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We were prepped in separate rooms, which was a sensation that set both of us on edge. What does one talk about with her mother before a set of surgeries that could save one of us, or kill us both? The last episode of Law & Order: SVU, as it turns out. and filled out the paperwork, speaking in quick whispers and looking bleary-eyed around the waiting room. My mom and I arrived at Piedmont at an ungodly hour - something like 5 a.m. The day of the procedure was a nervous one. The third thing you need to know: a laparoscopic nephrectomy means the difference between a four-inch scar on the donor’s abdomen and the traditional 10-to-12-incher that runs catty-corner around the donor’s side. At the time, in 2007, Piedmont’s transplant team was the only group in Georgia offering laparoscopic nephrectomies. So, after a battery of assessments to determine my general degree of health, we booked the transplant at Piedmont Atlanta’s earliest availability… six weeks before my Labor Day weekend wedding. Neverending malaise was not a good look on a woman known for her imposing vibrancy. She was plagued with infections, blood pressure drops, and what we would find out later was latent tuberculosis. Sher’s condition had worsened dramatically over the summer, and she’d become a frequent flyer at our small-town hospital’s emergency room. “I still can’t believe you passed that test. “If we put your kidney in my body, do you think I’ll turn into a smart ass like you?” Who says I even want your pickled kidney?” I think I knew all along that it was going to be me, but my mom had been less than convinced. I’ve had a harder time deciding what I wanted to eat at Waffle House. Once I knew our antigens were compatible, the decision was an easy one to make. Thing two you need to know: An organ from a living donor, even if it’s not a perfect antigen match, is typically still a better option than an organ from a cadaver donor, as the tissue hasn’t begun to necrotize. The two of us had three of the same antigens, which, although not the ideal six-out-of-six, meant there was a pretty good shot her body wouldn’t reject my kidney. She agreed, begrudgingly, only because she thought there would be a next to zero chance that enough of my antigens would match hers for transplant to be a viable option. So, I persuaded her to let me be tested to see if I was a potential match for donation. those who have a reasonable chance of living a long and productive life following transplant. those whose need is the most dire, and b. Here’s thing one you need to know: The top cadaver donor spots are reserved for a. She had a better chance of winning the bronze in men’s gymnastics than of moving up on that list. She’d begun smoking cigarettes when she was 14 and had never been able to kick them, and had a spate of health issues on top of the kidney disease. She knew she didn’t stand any real chance of securing a new kidney, though. The next morning, she would awake feeling rested and in good spirits, only to have to devote the rest of the day to dialysis again.Īll this time she was in kidney failure, Sher was on the transplant list, thanks to the careful stewardship of her nephrologist. The day after dialysis, she would be almost completely non-functional which was so rare for her. Three days a week for two years, she drove her Yukon an hour to dialysis to have every liquid ounce of her blood removed and mechanically detoxified over the course of four hours - and then drove an hour back home. Yet, the disease was always in the background, taking its slow toll. She was still cracking jokes, still running fried catfish plates out to customers at our family’s restaurant, still showing up unexpectedly to mine and Scott’s starter home to help me clean on Sundays. (Say that even one time fast.) Of course, she was One Tough Mother™ first and foremost, so you never would have realized just how devastating this disease was for her. My mom, Sherry, had a horrible, hereditary kidney disease: focal segmental glomerulosclerosis.
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