More Organs Means More Human (Bleeding Fiction)

More Organs Means More Human

Little things can sneak up on you. Deadlines. Traffic signals.

Kidneys.

A sleepy Alabama night saw a young couple driving down the long road towards Birmingham. The husband was behind the wheel, a little bit tired, but pushed on by thoughts of the Labor Day barbecue that was waiting for him the next day at his parents' house. He caught himself sniffing the air for cornbread. His wife caught him, too, and jabbed him playfully in the ribs before turning towards the back seat to check on her baby girl, their pride and joy, who'd woken up and was starting to fuss. Neither of them saw the other truck until it was too late.

Hours later, the man wrapped his one good arm around his wife; the other, in a sling, had broken. His wife touched her hand to the clear plastic of a small creche. Their baby lay beneath that bubble, very still. A doctor, waiting a respectful distance away, coughed and the woman grimaced at the sound. The stitches in her cheek pulled her face too tight. "It's for the best, isn't it," she said into her husband's chest. "At least this way part of her will live on." The man took one last look at his baby girl and then nodded to the doctor.

That's how I imagine it, anyway. All I know for sure is that my parents got the call at 6:30 yesterday morning: a kidney was being flown to New York from Alabama and it was a match for my mother. Could she make it to the hospital? The day was a flurry of activity, but by 10:30 at night my mom was in recovery with another, tiny kidney working inside her. If all goes well over the next few days, my mom will be in the pink and healthier than she's been in ages.

Two strange facts, though. First, the doctors haven't bothered to remove either the pair of kidneys she was born with or the one she got from my dad a few years back, so my mom has four kidneys floating around inside right now.

Second, it really was a baby whose kidney she got, which makes the whole thing a somewhat mixed blessing. In medical terms, though, babies are pretty much ideal - succulent young baby flesh is highly adaptable and extremely hardy, with a long life ahead of it. The tiny kidney will grow to full adult size in about a month. Weird, no?

Posted on September 5, 2006 3:43 PM | Permalink

Comments (9)

Eric:

That's great news, Jason. Send our best to your mom for a quick recovery.

Posted by Eric | September 6, 2006 7:05 AM

Posted on September 6, 2006 07:05

Erik:

All moral ambiguity aside, this is good news. Please let your mom know that I'm rooting for the success of her new squishy innards.

Posted by Erik | September 6, 2006 8:38 AM

Posted on September 6, 2006 08:38

Jina:

I'm glad to hear your mom's getting a new kidney!

Posted by Jina | September 6, 2006 1:45 PM

Posted on September 6, 2006 13:45

jeni g:

this is fantabulous news. send my love to mom!

Posted by jeni g | September 6, 2006 3:56 PM

Posted on September 6, 2006 15:56

Josh:

Wow, thats amazing man. Congragulations to you, your mom, and your family as a whole. I'm a big fan who actually lives in Alabama, just south of Birmingham. Best of luck to your Mom with her recovery, I wish her the best.

Posted by Josh | September 6, 2006 7:56 PM

Posted on September 6, 2006 19:56

Marc:

horray for kidneys! I could have lived a happy life without know about that "Jason's mom has 4 kidneys" thing, but I'm sure it'll be a charming conversation topic at parties. I'll keep it anonymous and focus on the "healthy person" bit. I promise.

Posted by Marc | September 11, 2006 12:10 PM

Posted on September 11, 2006 12:10

Jason