I have a dilemma today

Saturday November 14

I have three more tests to “pass,” before the kidney donation can become a reality. One is a chest X-ray, about which I am, perhaps naively, not worried. The second is a CT scan, to make sure I actually have two kidneys (See? You can pass all these tests with only one kidney!) and also exactly how they are situated in my body, prior to “harvesting” the smaller one. Creepy, I know. So far I’ve passed, in addition to the blood and tissue matching, a battery of psychological questions (I am not crazy), and legal questions (I am not selling my kidney), a stress test, a glucose tolerance test, a very complex blood pressure test (16 readings in all, over a period of 4 days), and at least 20 blood tests, the sum of which would reveal any adverse physical condition known to man or woman, ever. My doctor sent records of clear sigmoidoscopy, mammogram, pap smear, EKG’s and other stuff I can’t remember. I’ve also had a 24-hour urine test, in which you get to save all your pee for one day in a bottle in your frig., and no, I have not been living in squalor so long that I don’t recognize how gross this is.
Now I have to do it again.

The last time, I didn’t study for this test, and it showed. I flunked. But I’ve been told that it's a tricky test, old and touchy, and often needing to be repeated in the course of pre-donation testing. But, unlike most of the tests I’ve had done, this is one that can be prepared for, by not eating too much protein, by drinking lots of water (but not too much), and, most importantly, I am now given to understand, by not exercising too much.

About this last thing, there is, in my mind, a little confusion. I have been told, literally, “don’t, like, carry a bureau for two miles.” I have no problem with this. I rarely carry bureaus for more than, say, three miles. I can cut back. On the other end of the spectrum, and in the same conversation, came the admonition that I should “veg out” for several days before the test. “You know. Hang out on the couch, watch TV.” This is a problem. Our couch came with this place, and it’s not the kind of couch you’d want to “hang out” on, during waking hours. And we don’t have a TV. Don’t feel sorry for us; this is our choice. (Though you can feel sorry for me, on the nights when I absolutely cannot imagine anything that I can manage the goodwill or the energy to do other than watching TV or going to bed.)

We do have books. We are allowed to take an unlimited number of inferior ones from the library, without even having a library card. They don’t take your name or anything. You just tell them how many books you have, and they carelessly jot the number down on a sloppy list they keep on a clipboard at the front desk. It’s a social experiment, as far as I can tell. The list is simply so that they can tell if the general number of inferior books in the library is staying somewhat stable, or decreasing. It could even be increasing, since it appears that all the inferior books donated to the library join these ranks as well.

But back to vegging out. I like to walk, or ride my bike to the boatyard every day. I feel better when I do these things. And my usual day, once I get to the boatyard, involves doing something physical, as long and as hard as I can. So in preparation for this test, which I planned to do tomorrow, I have stayed away from the boatyard for two days. I have scrubbed not the hulls or decks of any boats, nor have I sanded or scraped or struggled with any tools, power or otherwise. I have not walked, or ridden my bike. I have carried no bureaus. This may seem like a lot of trouble to you, but my friend and I have come very far in this process. We have already envisioned our two hospital beds together in the same room, full of friends and family that we both know and love, in happy celebration. Yes, I know they probably won’t let us be in the same room, pre-or post-op. I know we’ll be lucky if we’re on the same floor. But we’ll be lucky if this transplant can take place, and she can be healthy and off dialysis again. We can dream. And if this dream doesn’t come true, I don’t want it to be because of something that (as opposed to almost everything else in this long odyssey) I can actually control. So I want to do everything I can. And I’ve done it. So far. I have put together two days of vegging out, hydrating, and not drinking my protein shake in the morning. None of this has been easy for me. And that makes the tragedy looming on the horizon even more heartbreaking. Are you ready?

We’re going to a wedding this afternoon. Not just any wedding, but the best kind, if you ask me. A wedding of people we hardly know. A wedding where, in exchange for a sugar bowl from Belk’s, we get to dress up, sit in a church and observe human behavior for an hour or so. As if that weren’t cool enough, after that we get to go to the reception, which is being held at a posh country club, so I’m assuming half-decent food and a glass of champagne at the very least. And more people-watching! You may be thinking, at this moment, “these people don’t get out much” and you would be right. For us, this is high drama. So how could I forget?

I didn’t forget, really. I have this strange brain where, on one side, I can be wondering what outfit I can come up with to wear to this wedding that will be fun to dance in, while, simultaneously, in another part of my brain (presumably one with impenetrable walls), I am carefully mapping out three days of minimal physical activity. What is wrong with me?? I am going to a wedding on a day when I can’t dance!! I love to dance!! I cannot be around music and dancing without joining the fray, even if it’s the chicken dance. And this, dare I say it, is the wedding of two black people. They will probably not even do the chicken dance! They’ll probably do something much cooler! And I will want to do it, too!

So that’s the dilemma I’m faced with today. Do I go to this wedding and make myself sit at an empty table with Bob and scrape bread crumbs into little piles, while I die of envy watching other people dance, or do I scuttle the two long days of preparatory vegging out, and hydrating, and modified protein intake, and did I mention no wine?? and start all over again next week? It’s a soap opera, isn’t it? I’ll let you know…