Och-la-reeeeee!

Red-winged Blackbirds trill their delight in morning sunshine, joined by a chorus of warblers, wrens, and other bird cousins. I’m on my daily recuperation walk, and I’m humming my appreciation of morning sunlight, too. Four weeks have passed since my donor nephrectomy, and it’s remarkable to contemplate all that has – and has not – transpired in that time.

I could lie flat on night 3, but it took a week before I could roll over without guttural gurgles echoing the positional change. The palindromic “a-choo ouch-a” sneeze abated after about ten days, and after two weeks I could giggle without wincing. At three weeks I had permission to lift more than 15 pounds and to ride my bike. I have yet to outgrow cheering a successful bowel movement. This morning I sat up in bed and threw back the covers without my abdomen asking me not to, and I made it through the whole day without a nap. (!!)

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During my three days in the hospital, I engaged in various rewarding pastimes:

• I breathed deep into my torso as my ribs and shoulders complained, wires from my shoulders to a box clipped to my front belying my use of electricity to Franken-slay shoulder stiffness. Three cheers for TENS!
• I paced the hallways, making intentional eye contact with nursing staff after shift changes to make sure no one thought I was a flight risk, though they would have been prudent in their suspicions: wearing a flowing hospital gown gives some superhero cape vibes.
• I entertained the notion of joining the entertainment industry as a belly dancer, given the sudden uptick in requests to see my bare stomach. Everyone wanted to look at my tummy; a dream come true for my inner three-year-old! But, just as all moments in the limelight, my belly’s fame faded in just a couple days. I can count on one hand the number of belly barings I’ve been asked to give in the past three weeks. 😢 Oh, well. It didn’t pay much, anyway.
• I played detective, trying to decrypt signals from my gut: gas, pain, or potty? Unfortunately, the third of these options was slow to get on board, so I extended my stay by an additional night.

My pastimes changed a bit on Friday as I waited for my discharge papers. I changed out of the hospital gown and found that wearing street clothes endowed a sense of normalized energy, but this power-up only lasted for 30 minutes of upright sitting. Then I discovered that my abdomen made crinkling noises when I pressed on the pillowy sections, and found that profoundly entertaining for an indeterminate length of time. That amount of entertainment was enough to earn myself another nap!

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My 12-year-old nephew greeted me with a well-coached gentle hug, exclaiming, “Auntie Jess! You lost a kidney!”

I didn’t lose it. I know exactly where it went. And I intend to keep it close by. 💞

But what have I lost? A few fingers in the “Never Have I Ever” game? A chance at belly dancing fame?

Seems like a pretty good trade for a few weeks of relaxation and naps (so many naps!), membership in the exclusive living donor club, and – above all – getting Mom back. 💞