'Kidney Transplant\r'

'In disembodied spirit a person may do slightlything that he neer expected he forget do, or that he may ever look he will start the courage to do.  However, life as the numbers â€Å"You mustn’t Quit! aptly said,   is full of m both an early(a)(prenominal) â€Å"twists and turns,’’ and  a person may  find himself in a drift where he  had to rent a decision at the risks of his own life  in order to save others ( Anonymous 2001).This may safe heroic scarce I never imagination it that way, all I knew was that it was my dutyWhen I was 2 geezerhood old, my generate was diagnosed with glomerul geniusphritis, which is a sheath of boorney disease.  Due to the position that we lived in Scranton Pasadena and they did not have dialysis machines to treat my sire, we locomote to Bronx, New York.  The year was 1968.  My produce, stimulate, brother and I jam-packed up and flew the coop to the Bronx.  There we were informe d that my pose’s figure was grave and he was not expected to live very long which was kind of tragic considering that he was and in his mid(prenominal) 20’s. As days progressed, the   glomerulonephritis caused his blood pinch to soar so proud resulting in the pullout of retina in both eyes, leaving him dim. Just imagine how hard it must have been for my mother who was chance upon over young and was forced to face with being in a new city, with a very sick, blind husband and two small children.My father had a brother, who was a priest, and a twin sister.  Both were snip-tested for a kidney channelize for my father, and both were great chalk upes.  For some reason, they both declined to donate to him.  Which, was kind of cruel, considering they had been tested and pillow slip matched.  I remember him calling them, begging for a kidney, scarce they both refused.  My uncle the priest claimed it was too high-risk for him.  My aunt ie, my father’s twin, said she wanted to have more children, and felt the risk was too high for her. We were angry and at the same time discomfited over their decision.My father was on dialysis 4 to 5 days a week for 6 to 8 hours at a time at the VA (Veterans Administration) infirmary in Bronx.  He was a big man. At 6’4” he was virtually 240 pounds forrader his illness just then he was sightly thinner and thinner.  Yet he remained optimistic and happy.  He learned to make his way around the Bronx.  That is no small feat for the seeing person, let alone a blind man.My brother and I, on the other hand, were in school while my mother fatigued most days taking forethought of my father.  We were golden enough to find an apartment right side by side(p) door to the hospital.  Our relatives from Scranton visited often.  My father got progressively worse.  In 1974, the Moses Taylor infirmary in Scranton opened their own dialysis unit.  My father was stir!  We packed up and moved back to Scranton.  It was quite and adjustment, but worth it to be c pretermit to family!Thankfully, my father was a veteran.  He was in the Army depicted object Guard before his illness.  The VA salaried for all his treatments and care.  macrocosm blind, they knew he could not drive himself to the hospital, so they paid a taxi company to take him anywhere he wanted to go even driving force him to Old Forge to visit my grandparents. He was always assigned the same cab driver. One Saturday in 1977, the taxi cab my father was in was sum and it crashed into a telephone pole.  Everyone survived, except my frail father who was hurt badly.He broke nearly every lift in his body.  We did not think he would make it by the night.  Thanks to the grace of God, he did live.  However, he never fully recovered.  As a dep reverse of fact, he spent the next three age in the Moses Taylor hospital long term care unit .    The VA hired full time, around the clock nurses to take care of him.  They became like family.  They cared for my father from 1977 to May 20, 1980, when my father’s poor body finally gave in and he died.It was around that time that my brother Andrew started to lose weight.  He went to the doctor and went through a serial publication of tests.  We worried, but were not out of control with fear.  then the horrible news came, Andrew also had glomerulonephritis.  My poor mother was heartbroken!  I was petrified and my brother was numb when he learned he had the same disease that took my fathers life.  No immediate action was needful.  Andrew was told to live normally until his condition became worse. Imagine being told that! However, I made it through my junior year of high school without any real trauma. Then in the beginning of my superior year, Andrew’s condition worsened.  He now needed dialysis.  It was the worst th ing that could have happened to our family.  Andrew was on dialysis altogether 2 days a week for sole(prenominal) 2 to 4 hours.  Still a tiring experience, Andrew suffered.  When I turned 18, I called my brother’s doctor and asked about donating a kidney to my brother.  I was told it was a long process, but it indeed could be do if we were a match.  I approached Andrew with my idea and he was shake up but stir.We made a â€Å"secret” battle for a blood test.  We were a perfect match as far as blood type was concerned.  When we told my mother, she was not sure whether to be happy or scared!  She had one sick kid and one healthy kid and now they were both about to be operated on!  It took about 4 months for the interrogation to be completed at Geisinger Hospital in Danville PA.  We were a perfect match!  I was thrilled!  Andrew was thrilled!  My mother was petrified!  The operation was to take place on July 17, 1984.  They said the greater risk was for the donor-me!  I was 18!  I was healthy and full of life!  I was a bold and brazen kid!  I was full steam ahead!  The transplant went off without a hitch.I was out of the hospital afterwards a week.  I had 32 staples in my ache and I felt great!  By the end of the second day, Andrew looked great!  His color had returned!  He was lively!  His was urinating like a champ!  He was requisite to stay in the hospital for 3 weeks, until they correct his anti-rejection medication.  That was 23 long time ago.  Andrew is still on anti-rejection medication, but leads a full life.  He is 45 years old.  Andrew is married and has two wonderful little boys.  He has a brand new house in Yatesville and his own mortgage business.It was the greatest thing I could ever imagine doing in my life.  My father was on dialysis for 17 years.  It not only kept him alive, but it also sucked the life out of him.  Andr ew was on dialysis for only 7 months.  My mother is still a flyaway wreck, but we are all doing fine.  We are quite the family.  Imagine seeing both of your children being wheel around away for an operation at the same time!  I am surprised she survived.  Just for the record, my aunt and my uncle the priest not only cried when my father died, but they also came to visit me and Andrew in the hospital after the transplant.  I harbor ill feelings toward them.  I mistrustful I always will.Work CitedAnonymous. 2001. Poem,  â€Å"You Mustn’t Quit! Quoteland. Retrieved). Retrieved October 2, 2007 <http://www.quoteland.com/search.asp? query=twist>.\r\n'