The Truth Emerged In The Waiting Room- My Kidney Donation Story
Thank you all for reading my story. I definitely am looking forward to sharing more if you're interested.
It was nearly three years into Tim's Renal Failure diagnosis, and into our marriage, that I discovered the work of Alice Miller and John Bradshaw. I was seeking a new approach to healing my perceived brokenness and these authors were changing my world.
With a new sense of awareness, I started applying their wisdom to my recovery from childhood trauma which opened my eyes to the destructive nature of my marriage.
At this time, Tim could no longer stand dialysis. He was tormented by the blood and the time and the pain. I couldn't watch him suffer through it. It was time to start talking seriously about finding a living donor for his transplant.
His family was far away, and even though we had a rocky marriage with several separations already, I was the closest person to him and I really wanted to help him out of hell. So, even though we had major disagreements over it, in the end, we concluded that since I was a match as a donor, this was the best option for him and we should move forward.
He had the transplant eight months later at a hospital that was two hours away from us. They put us up in a hotel the night before our surgery which was a huge convenience. To release our stress from our anxiety, we went for a walk to Starbucks. I felt the city's winter chill. We didn't talk about the emotional roller coaster each of us were on. We were beside one another, but riding it alone through the night.
The next morning, we got ourselves checked in and sat in the waiting room. He hunkered down and waited patiently with his Game Boy, while I stared at his hand, sad that it wasn't holding mine. I starting to hear echos of our first conversation from the start of all this- the one where he said that he wouldn't be able do something like this for me, and if we separated he couldn't stand the thought of having part of me inside of his body forever. I felt a shudder of pain in my chest and belly that conjured a few tears. What a spot.
Crazy thoughts ensued...surgeons accidentally severing major arteries or leaving cloths and other tinkery materials inside me occupied my mind for a while. Before I knew it, I was being ushered down the hallway into Pre Op. No kiss. No Hug. I started to panic but the kind staff were reassuring me that I was in good hands.
Four hours later, the surgery was a success, but our marriage was not. We didn't stay together after the transplant. I left in the summer and began a new life. This was the hardest thing I ever had to do.
This rabbit hole of Recovery lead me to the realization that you can't save people. You can only help them as much as they want to be helped. Examining myself relentlessly helped me see how, as an adult victim of childhood trauma, I desperately needed to be needed, and I pushed help onto others.
But, this was not my fate because I've discovered that there are brilliant ways to disarm self-destructive behaviors, to love yourself better first and to disengage from codependent relationships. All of which changed the course of my life and my relationships, including mine with Tim.
In the wise words of Alice Miller, the truth will set you free, and that's exactly what it did for me. I hope sharing my story with you has been beneficial to you in some way. Take good care.