What did I think when I found out about my father? This can’t be happening to my family. Can it? I felt a cold rush of air run through my body and freeze the blood in my veins. For a moment, I felt like an icicle about to break off and shatter into a million pieces. The pro longed awkward silence ended and there was a quick alteration of mood as a plethora of questions raced through my troubled mind. Why is the dialysis not working properly? How long can someone’s kidneys function on twelve percent, while toxins build up in his body?
Reality check, it takes years, if at all, to receive an organ from the donor’s list. There is a chance though, and that miniscule possibility means everything, for it instills the thought of hope in my mind. It is crazy to think that my dad’s fate was based upon a piece of paper with his name scribbled somewhere near the end, below other anxiously waiting patients. Luckily, another door opened up for my family as my mom agreed to take a blood analysis test. I took a deep breath and squeezed my fingers that were crossed behind my back when I was told the news.
All I kept thinking was what are the chances?! It was unbelievable. My family was ecstatic and relieved to find out that both surgeries were successful and went exactly as planned.
She was willing to risk her life and donate her kidney to save my father’s. I know that my parents were brought together for one reason, to rescue my dad from a short-lived life. Now, it may not be the picture-perfect happy ending, but the miracle had already worked its magic. Sometimes when I am feeling alone, I remember the gift my family received, and I know I always have someone with me. I do not know how to look at my family and say there is no one watching over me. There is something greater and unexplainable out there, and I am grateful for it. I believe in miracles. How could I not?