What's to Become of Me?

Before I start, let me just say that I had NO idea it had been this long since I've written.  Perhaps by the end of this post it will start to make sense...

As you may all know, I've been waiting on a kidney transplant for nearly two and a half years.  The first issue was mine to resolve, then I got to resolve it again.  My viral load was finally low enough for the hepatologist to clear me for transplant in February.  I was thrilled! 

My sister and I started calling Mayo Clinic trying to schedule the transplant, and we were told that the middle of March would be the most likely date.  She was here in Arizona mid-February and was able to get her testing updates done at that time, and we assumed we were good to go. 

At the end of February, we were still trying to pinpoint an exact date, and all of a sudden we were getting the runaround.  I had an appointment with the head of the transplant department at the end of February, which again, I assumed was just a formality.

You know what they say about the word "assume?"  When you do it, you make an "ass" out of "u" and "me."  That's pretty much what happened.

After reviewing my file, which he clearly hadn't done before the appointment, and asking me a bunch of ridiculous questions, he told me that we would need to schedule the transplant for sometime in July.  He explained (without a shred of compassion) that transplant centers have to maintain a certain rating, and thus are only allowed a certain number of live donor transplant failures every six month period.  By the beginning of March, they had already had two.  He didn't mention how many they are allowed to have, but I'm sure that was a high number.

(On a side note, a woman in our stake had a kidney transplant on March 20 and it ended up failing as well.  They're not in good shape...)

The failure rate for a typical kidney transplant is less than 2%.  Because of all of my pre-existing conditions--especially my vascular issues--my chances for failure are 10-15%.  Not the greatest odds in the world, but I'm still confident that I will be blessed and that things will go well.  The doctor even went one step further and told me that most transplant centers wouldn't even take my case, as the risk for failure was just too high.  Thanks so much for THAT information!!

I sat there as he explained all of this to me, and the realization that I had four more months of hell (dialysis) to endure was just too much.  I also realized that a July transplant date would make it impossible for me to start teaching on time for this upcoming school year.  (School here in Arizona starts the first Monday in August.)  I figure that I'd need about a six week recovery period, which puts me into mid-August at the earliest.  Another year wasted...

I started to cry a bit, but managed to hold it together until I got to my truck and then the flood gates opened.  I don't remember crying that hard in a very long time.  I was frustrated, angry, and wanted to hit someone.  I tried calling Gordon, but was crying so hard that he couldn't understand me.

It took a couple of weeks to get used to the idea, but I was still angry.  As I've said before, I'm not asking to win the lottery, or for a new car, or a bigger house.  I just want to be healthy so that I can get back to what I love--what I feel I was placed on this earth to do.  We live in a small community, and band director jobs just don't open up every year.  There is a middle school position available for the upcoming school year, but I can't see myself interviewing for the job and then saying, "Oh, by the way, I can't start until September."

In the movie version of the musical My Fair Lady, Eliza goes through so much to become a lady.  After she attends the state ball and passes the "test," she becomes angry with Henry and asks him, "What's to Become of Me?"  She wonders where she belongs, what she can do, and who will accept her.  That thought has come to my mind many times over the past couple of months.  I registered for classes for fall, and if I really push myself, I can finish my Master's degree by next summer, but then what?

I also keep telling myself the line from The Sound of Music (yes, I watch way too many musicals!), "When God closes a door, somewhere He opens a window."  I'm trying, and wanting, to believe that, but I also miss the security that my old life provided.  Perhaps this is all the test I've been preparing for my entire life.  I know that only time will tell.