“I’ve got some good news and some bad news for you. Which would you like to hear first?”
The doctor looks at me expectantly. I reply, “Bad news. Let’s get it over with.”
“You’re going to need a new kidney, Leah.”
My blood turns to ice. It’s a feeling I didn’t expect to get until at least my 50th birthday: an inescapable awareness of my own mortality. Death feels so tangible, closer than ever. I can feel it waiting for me just over the horizon. The doctor has just spoken into existence what I’ve been dreading for months, made it real.
“Don’t you want to hear the good news?”
“Sure.”
“This is definitely not something we see every day. As a woman of science, I don’t believe in miracles, but I can say that you, Leah, have had a fantastic stroke of luck.”
“With a side of advanced organ failure.”
“Right, but take a look at this.”
She fires up the ancient, dusty Dell computer sitting on the desk between us.
“I ran your medical information through our registry of donors. Blood type, tissue type, organ size, all that good stuff. Normally it takes a bit of time to find a suitable genetic match to avoid organ rejection. But within seconds, this popped up.”
She shows me the profile on her screen, her expression shifting from excitement to bewilderment at my underwhelming reaction.
“Leah, this registered kidney donor is genetically identical to you.”
“Wait, what?”
“So this is as close as you get to having a brand-new organ customized perfectly to your body! We already reached out and she’s consented to the procedure.”
I can’t hold back the tears, can’t keep the smile off my face. “I need to call my mom.”
My hands shake as I speed-dial her. The phone rings once… twice… three times and then I hear her voice on the line.
“Hi Leah, what’s going on?”
It’s hard to talk through this joyful deluge of salt and mucus, but I manage to get the words out.
“Mom, they found Stephanie.”