Giving Away a Kidney Brings Unexpected Blessings
Posted: Feb 15th, 2008
Ever since I gave my spare kidney to my friend, Joel,who really needed one, I have a new found passion for clearing out the clutter in my life. Who knew that being a live kidney donor could be such a liberating feeling?
Many people reacted with shock and awe at the news of my chosen surgery, but to me it really was a no brainer. How often have you thought, when seeing a loved one in throes of pain and suffering, “If only there was something I could do to help.” And in most cases, there isn’t, kidney disease being one of the rare exceptions.
Strangely enough, we come packed with a spare kidney, completely unnecessary to the smooth functioning of the body. So, when it became clear that my pal was in dire need, that only the gift of a kidney from a friend would keep him from years of dialysis followed by an early death, my immediate response was, “Take one of mine.”
It’s not that I looked forward to submitting myself to a battery of invasive testing, nor to the surgery with its inherent risks and somewhat painful aftermath. But weighing those potential negatives against the sure prospect of my friend’s death by kidney failure, there really was no decision to be made. My choice was obvious.
What took me completely by surprise is what a wonderful, life enhancing experience this has been. Just three months after the surgery, I feel completely recovered, better than ever, in fact; and not missing that spare kidney in the slightest.
Furthermore, I have been bathed in more blessings than I could ever have imagined. I feel as if I have been through a midlife initiation ritual, and found in it so many gifts that have enriched my life.
Yes, that ritual required a blood sacrifice, a lot of trust, and willingness to face possible danger. But here’s what came out of it:
Incomparable joy. This comes from seeing my friend restored to vibrant good health, and the deep satisfaction of knowing that my spare kidney, which was of little use to me, is making all the difference to him.
The gift of time. Doctor’s orders: rest, relax, walk, read, listen to music, visit with friends and let them know when you begin to tire. Let others cook for you. Sound like a dream come true? It was. And now, even though I have returned to my full working life, it has a different quality to it. I have tasted relaxation, and learned how to build it in to every day. The old frenetic pace is gone.
The gift of community. We all yearn for it, but somehow, it can seem so elusive. I’ve always noticed how a natural disaster like a blizzard, or a flood, brings out the community spirit in all of us, reminding us that we need each other. The veneer of separateness quickly wears away at times like these, and there we are in all our vulnerability. Extreme acts of kindness beget more kindness, and the entire community of beings who are touched by such an event are blessed by the outpouring of love, casseroles, and foot rubs. The fabric of community feels stronger to me now.
Spiritual aliveness. Knowing that I was being prayed for by hundreds of well wishers, toned and sung for by choirs from here to Mozambique, was an extraordinary, palpable experience of connection. I have been deeply nourished and recharged by being at the centre of this world wide web of loving intention. And now I know that when I say to a friend in need “I’ll pray for you,” it really does help.
Finally, the clutter thing. Once I regained my strength, I found an almost compulsive desire to clear the clutter out of my life. It began with my office, progressed to my closet, then to the basement. Boxes and boxes of old papers, clothes and miscellaneous stuff have been cheerfully sent off to recycling heaven, leaving behind a newfound sense of peace and order and intention, a space where creativity and new growth can flourish. I’ve been freed from some old urge to hang on to things I no longer need, liberated by the knowledge that, when we remember our essential connection to each other, there is more than enough to go around. There are even enough working kidneys.
Shivon Robinsong, pictured above, is co-founder of Hollyhock, and co-director of the Gettin' Higher Choir in Victoria.
On March 27/28, she is leading a workshop in Vancouver called Singing: The Heart of Harmony. For details, go to Hollyhock's website.
Related Stories:
My Brother Needs A Kidney, What do I Owe Him?
Kidney Transplant Turns a Life Around, Spreading Joy
The Crime on Abbott, The Miracle on Alexander
Many people reacted with shock and awe at the news of my chosen surgery, but to me it really was a no brainer. How often have you thought, when seeing a loved one in throes of pain and suffering, “If only there was something I could do to help.” And in most cases, there isn’t, kidney disease being one of the rare exceptions.
Strangely enough, we come packed with a spare kidney, completely unnecessary to the smooth functioning of the body. So, when it became clear that my pal was in dire need, that only the gift of a kidney from a friend would keep him from years of dialysis followed by an early death, my immediate response was, “Take one of mine.”
It’s not that I looked forward to submitting myself to a battery of invasive testing, nor to the surgery with its inherent risks and somewhat painful aftermath. But weighing those potential negatives against the sure prospect of my friend’s death by kidney failure, there really was no decision to be made. My choice was obvious.
What took me completely by surprise is what a wonderful, life enhancing experience this has been. Just three months after the surgery, I feel completely recovered, better than ever, in fact; and not missing that spare kidney in the slightest.
Furthermore, I have been bathed in more blessings than I could ever have imagined. I feel as if I have been through a midlife initiation ritual, and found in it so many gifts that have enriched my life.
Yes, that ritual required a blood sacrifice, a lot of trust, and willingness to face possible danger. But here’s what came out of it:
Incomparable joy. This comes from seeing my friend restored to vibrant good health, and the deep satisfaction of knowing that my spare kidney, which was of little use to me, is making all the difference to him.
The gift of time. Doctor’s orders: rest, relax, walk, read, listen to music, visit with friends and let them know when you begin to tire. Let others cook for you. Sound like a dream come true? It was. And now, even though I have returned to my full working life, it has a different quality to it. I have tasted relaxation, and learned how to build it in to every day. The old frenetic pace is gone.
The gift of community. We all yearn for it, but somehow, it can seem so elusive. I’ve always noticed how a natural disaster like a blizzard, or a flood, brings out the community spirit in all of us, reminding us that we need each other. The veneer of separateness quickly wears away at times like these, and there we are in all our vulnerability. Extreme acts of kindness beget more kindness, and the entire community of beings who are touched by such an event are blessed by the outpouring of love, casseroles, and foot rubs. The fabric of community feels stronger to me now.
Spiritual aliveness. Knowing that I was being prayed for by hundreds of well wishers, toned and sung for by choirs from here to Mozambique, was an extraordinary, palpable experience of connection. I have been deeply nourished and recharged by being at the centre of this world wide web of loving intention. And now I know that when I say to a friend in need “I’ll pray for you,” it really does help.
Finally, the clutter thing. Once I regained my strength, I found an almost compulsive desire to clear the clutter out of my life. It began with my office, progressed to my closet, then to the basement. Boxes and boxes of old papers, clothes and miscellaneous stuff have been cheerfully sent off to recycling heaven, leaving behind a newfound sense of peace and order and intention, a space where creativity and new growth can flourish. I’ve been freed from some old urge to hang on to things I no longer need, liberated by the knowledge that, when we remember our essential connection to each other, there is more than enough to go around. There are even enough working kidneys.
Shivon Robinsong, pictured above, is co-founder of Hollyhock, and co-director of the Gettin' Higher Choir in Victoria.
On March 27/28, she is leading a workshop in Vancouver called Singing: The Heart of Harmony. For details, go to Hollyhock's website.
Related Stories:
My Brother Needs A Kidney, What do I Owe Him?
Kidney Transplant Turns a Life Around, Spreading Joy
The Crime on Abbott, The Miracle on Alexander
(3) Comments
Shivon Robinsong
Popular Stories
Political Junkie
Cassandra's Psychic Cycles
A Gift of Love and a Reminder To All
be given.
(On a grassroots level, Shivon's experience has
really educated me of the importance of organ
donation.)
Thank you Shivon.
Many blessings!
one learns to count one's blessings
i read your letter. regardless, it was a beautiful, wonderful, generous offering you made.
with love and blessings, joyce jason