Change

Ice covers the ground

Sitting as the embers glow

Thoughts dwell on change

In an effort to be as prepared as I can beforehand, I have been seriously considering the many changes that my life will take after kidney donation.  I have taken to the internet for research.  I have found wonderful sites in many nations (and languages) that discuss what life will be like after living kidney donation.  The first thing that each site chooses to express  is the understanding that for a person with one kidney there should be no contact sports or those that may contain a higher percentage chance of injury.  The list includes: martial arts, skydiving, football, rock climbing, motocross, rugby, roller derby, surfing, boxing, ice and field hockey, rodeo bronco riding, soccer, and racecar driving. 

I do understand the reason for such specificity.   When one kidney becomes a solo act, it grows larger—making it more vulnerable to damage should one enjoy such sports as those I mentioned previously.  It is just that the only sport on the list that has ever held any interest for me was rock climbing.  I prefer rock-hopping and short free climbs—but never anything more technical than that.  In my twenties I had wanted to learn how to rappel, but my complete terror of heights stopped me from taking that idea any further.  Now, it will have to remain a ridiculous thought with no need for completion.

What else will change? I won’t be able to drink rock stars under the table.  (Not that it was something that I ever had an opportunity to do.)   I always loved the idea that I could have one moment where I was like the “Marion” character in the first Indiana Jones movie.  I’d drink the men under the table and then be the last woman standing, clear-headed, to fight the bad guys. 

I do love the occasional glass of wine, beer, bourbon, or gin martini…and I can still enjoy them with the understanding that less is more.  Yes, alcohol filters through the liver, but since the kidneys regulate the fluids inside one’s body—they will have a more difficult time doing that if one does not pay strict attention to alcohol consumption.  So I will savor that dirty martini when I have an opportunity to imbibe—much like I do now.

Medications will become more limited.  I will no longer be able to take many over the counter medications, such as NSAIDs.  This group of anti-inflammatory medication is great for relieving any sort of inflammation—arthritis, headache, muscle-ache, cramps, etc.  Yet, when I have one kidney, I will not able to take NSAIDS because I will no longer have the quantity of glomeruli (tiny capillaries that filter the blood within the kidneys) sufficient to filter out such medication.  As a lifelong headache sufferer who uses it weekly, this feels like the biggest hurdle somehow.  What will replace the ibuprofen? 

That answer has been under much discussion lately.  I am very blessed to have amazing friends with big ideas.  Biofeedback training seems to have the biggest pull on me right now.  The idea of being able to train my own brain to relax and open the constricted blood vessels, that feed that most vital piece of thinking real estate, has me completely intrigued.  If I could train my body to relax at my command, it would do more than alleviate my headaches.  It would help me with my teaching, it would help me balance my life, and it would help me to more effectively pour my energy into my passion for the written word.  That seems like a valuable gift indeed.

A future illness will force the biggest change.  Currently, when I get a cold or a stomach virus I tend to gut through it.   I often go to work (providing that I am not contagious) and continue along in my day doing all of the things that I feel that I must (taking the kids to gymnastics practice, working on creating activities for my students, and keeping up with everyday life.)  I will no longer be able to continue working at 100% through an illness.  Maintaining a fluid balance is more difficult with one kidney, so I will have to learn to slow down and actually take care of myself.  Wow!  That’s another gift.  Am I actually giving a gift of life or receiving one?