O+
One
When I was 10 years old, my kidney failed on me. Five years before that, my first one had to be removed. It was scary and I hated hospitals by that point. Visits there were frequent and I never got to be a kid. I never got to really play with friends outside. My mom was afraid that I might get hurt, that some kid might push me too hard or I might fall on my own and the worst would come out of it. I guess it was her fear of losing me that had isolated me for a majority of my life. I guess at the age of 18 years old, I should be thanking her, even though I got hurt anyways in the long run.
The doctors told me I needed a new kidney. That they were going to find someone who had the same blood type and the same sized organs as me. It was weird to think I’d be using someone else’s organs to keep myself alive. I didn’t even know what the kidney did when I was 10 and 5 years old. No one bothered to explain it to me. Everyone just said it’d be alright and that I’d get a new one. Everyone just told me that I wasn’t going to die and I didn’t even really know what dying meant at that age either. It was that time of my life where dying wasn’t an option, where it was completely impossible, unimaginable.
It took them a week to find someone, which I think was a pretty swell deal. There were other kids on that list, waiting for the kidneys of other people to come save their lives, like superman or something. I wasn’t sure why they gave it to me first. I didn’t do anything special and sure I’d been fighting this for five years, but what about the kids younger than me? What about the kids older than me? It just didn’t add up. It wasn’t until later that my mom told me the only reason I had gotten the kidney instead of anyone else was because whoever donated it said it had to be for me and no one else. Yet when I asked my mom who donated the kidney, she couldn’t tell me. She didn’t know.
It’s been almost 9 years and I’ve been doing pretty okay. I haven’t been seeing doctors as frequently and sure, I have a pretty ugly scar where my new kidney is, but it’s the thing that keeps all that junk out of my blood from the things I eat. It’s the thing that makes me able to piss. I know that now at least. I’ve moved out on my own in a dainty little flat, or well, not on my own, but with a friend. Her name is Sasha and she’s been my best friend since my first year of college, so it’s been about two years now. She knows me better than I know myself sometimes and I love her to absolute pieces. She has this thing for this British boy band that I tolerate for her sake. They’re called One Direction or something strange like that and a lot of people make fun of her for it, but I love her regardless.
It was strange that I hadn’t put much thought into who had given me my kidney all these years until so late. I’d been communicating with old doctors, trying to get a name. A first, a last, maybe an age, but they all were coming out empty handed, forcing me to go further and further back into my history until I was getting retired doctors. Old men who no longer worked in the field and just laid around all day and bathed in the riches they made for themselves by giving little kids new kidneys. I guess that’s how I kind of ended up in London, searching for a man who had left the country to do just that and Sasha was at my side, of course, but I hadn’t told her the full story. In fact, I had lied just a little bit to get her to come without asking too many questions.
You see, the one thing Sasha doesn’t know is how I got the scar on my back. She asked if I got surgery or something, but I always told her I’d tell her another day and she always would respond with an “Okay. Whenever you’re ready.” but I was pretty sure I’d never be ready so I just kept on saying another day another day and another day again and again. I’d gotten here with the promise of her getting to see One Direction live, though I honestly didn’t even have the tickets when we stepped off the plane. I knew she’d probably be mad at me. We were spending the last days of our winter break here, after all, instead of at home cuddling with some cute boys by the fire or in the time square of New York, locking lips a few days later as the new year struck by. Instead, we were here on a wild goose chase just so I could know something about the person who gave me my kidney. Anything.
The streets were busy and my heart was thumping. Sasha was excited to go to the concert that was going to be here tomorrow night. I was just worried about finding the doctor and hopefully managing to mooch some tickets off someone. Maybe I’d get lucky, but it was doubtful. It was wrong of me to even want to risk my friendship just for a name, but it meant so much to me and I was scared. There were so many other things that could go wrong. We could get lost or we could just never find him before we have to leave again. There were so many doubts in my mind and it didn’t help that it was freezing when we walked off the plane. We had to nearly jog to get inside, the bodies bustling around warming us up better than any fire at home could.
Our hands were locked together, my fingerless glove pressed against her mittens her grandmum had given her the year before for Christmas. We were even graced with little snowflakes in our hair and though we both should have freaked out over it because it was likely to frizzle our hair up, we didn’t care. We let the little whites lay there and melt as we grabbed our bags in our free hands and went out into the world with smiles on our faces. This was a new level of freedom that neither one of us had ever achieved until now and the best part of all was that we were doing it together.
“So where to now?” Sasha asked me as we headed out of the airport and grabbed a cab, throwing our things in the back and my fingers slipping into the pockets of my coat. I hadn’t realized it would be this cold, but at least I’d come half way prepared for the chill. I shrug as she climbs in on one side and I on the other. We sat there in the heat for a moment before I’m pulling a couple of 20 pound slips out and handing them to the driver, who’s expression totally changes after that.
“Where to, my ladies?” He asked, tone rough yet sweet and gentle considering the money I’d handed to him so graciously. I had to check my phone to see where I booked a room for us. It was the cheapest one I could find that was over 4 stars, because we are college students and I’m not exactly filled to the brim with money.
“Lancaster London? The hotel?” I said quietly and he nods before he’s pulling off. I leant back in the seat and looked over at Sasha then, who smiles cheekily at me. It’s nice to know that she’s happy to be here. I tried to memorize her smile in that moment, because I know that after today, I might not ever see it or her ever again.
There’s this sinking feeling in my chest, that guilt settling in when I finally looked away from her and out the window to enjoy the sights. It seems like the ride takes forever before we’re pulling up beside the place and it’s absolutely gorgeous. We grab our things and then the cab driver is saying good bye. I guessed I had paid him enough up front that he wasn’t going to tell me the total, but frankly, I didn’t really care. We rolled our things into the place and I checked us in. When the lady went to grab the keys, Sasha nudged my side, making me turn to look at her. She was looking over at something or someone so I turned my glance to where she was looking.
Five boys walked into the lobby, shaking snow off their clothes with a few taller men walking around them. They looked familiar and Sasha’s reaction only made it more painfully obvious. It was the One Direction blokes, but I had to nudge her as the lady handed me our keys, making her turn back as they approached the area that we were standing at. Her features drop a little when she sees who’s behind us and I can’t help but chuckle. That means she’s going to have to deal with fan girls like Sasha trying to get in their rooms…and their pants.
“Have a great day,” She says to me and Sasha half heartedly and I just smile and have to drag Sasha away from the area before she embarrasses herself. We make it to the elevator and the doors start to close before someone’s screaming wait and I decide to be generous and hold the door open by pressing the button. We’re greeted by dimples and curls and the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Thanks,” He says and Sasha is literally shaking in the corner of the elevator as the other five boys and the body guards shuffle in. The curly haired one’s arms brushes past me as he presses the button for their floor, one further up than ours and it’s deathly silent. Sasha is near a heart attack before we’re on our floor and I’m dragging her out again, the slightly sweet scent of the curly haired boy trapped in my senses.
The doctors told me I needed a new kidney. That they were going to find someone who had the same blood type and the same sized organs as me. It was weird to think I’d be using someone else’s organs to keep myself alive. I didn’t even know what the kidney did when I was 10 and 5 years old. No one bothered to explain it to me. Everyone just said it’d be alright and that I’d get a new one. Everyone just told me that I wasn’t going to die and I didn’t even really know what dying meant at that age either. It was that time of my life where dying wasn’t an option, where it was completely impossible, unimaginable.
It took them a week to find someone, which I think was a pretty swell deal. There were other kids on that list, waiting for the kidneys of other people to come save their lives, like superman or something. I wasn’t sure why they gave it to me first. I didn’t do anything special and sure I’d been fighting this for five years, but what about the kids younger than me? What about the kids older than me? It just didn’t add up. It wasn’t until later that my mom told me the only reason I had gotten the kidney instead of anyone else was because whoever donated it said it had to be for me and no one else. Yet when I asked my mom who donated the kidney, she couldn’t tell me. She didn’t know.
It’s been almost 9 years and I’ve been doing pretty okay. I haven’t been seeing doctors as frequently and sure, I have a pretty ugly scar where my new kidney is, but it’s the thing that keeps all that junk out of my blood from the things I eat. It’s the thing that makes me able to piss. I know that now at least. I’ve moved out on my own in a dainty little flat, or well, not on my own, but with a friend. Her name is Sasha and she’s been my best friend since my first year of college, so it’s been about two years now. She knows me better than I know myself sometimes and I love her to absolute pieces. She has this thing for this British boy band that I tolerate for her sake. They’re called One Direction or something strange like that and a lot of people make fun of her for it, but I love her regardless.
It was strange that I hadn’t put much thought into who had given me my kidney all these years until so late. I’d been communicating with old doctors, trying to get a name. A first, a last, maybe an age, but they all were coming out empty handed, forcing me to go further and further back into my history until I was getting retired doctors. Old men who no longer worked in the field and just laid around all day and bathed in the riches they made for themselves by giving little kids new kidneys. I guess that’s how I kind of ended up in London, searching for a man who had left the country to do just that and Sasha was at my side, of course, but I hadn’t told her the full story. In fact, I had lied just a little bit to get her to come without asking too many questions.
You see, the one thing Sasha doesn’t know is how I got the scar on my back. She asked if I got surgery or something, but I always told her I’d tell her another day and she always would respond with an “Okay. Whenever you’re ready.” but I was pretty sure I’d never be ready so I just kept on saying another day another day and another day again and again. I’d gotten here with the promise of her getting to see One Direction live, though I honestly didn’t even have the tickets when we stepped off the plane. I knew she’d probably be mad at me. We were spending the last days of our winter break here, after all, instead of at home cuddling with some cute boys by the fire or in the time square of New York, locking lips a few days later as the new year struck by. Instead, we were here on a wild goose chase just so I could know something about the person who gave me my kidney. Anything.
The streets were busy and my heart was thumping. Sasha was excited to go to the concert that was going to be here tomorrow night. I was just worried about finding the doctor and hopefully managing to mooch some tickets off someone. Maybe I’d get lucky, but it was doubtful. It was wrong of me to even want to risk my friendship just for a name, but it meant so much to me and I was scared. There were so many other things that could go wrong. We could get lost or we could just never find him before we have to leave again. There were so many doubts in my mind and it didn’t help that it was freezing when we walked off the plane. We had to nearly jog to get inside, the bodies bustling around warming us up better than any fire at home could.
Our hands were locked together, my fingerless glove pressed against her mittens her grandmum had given her the year before for Christmas. We were even graced with little snowflakes in our hair and though we both should have freaked out over it because it was likely to frizzle our hair up, we didn’t care. We let the little whites lay there and melt as we grabbed our bags in our free hands and went out into the world with smiles on our faces. This was a new level of freedom that neither one of us had ever achieved until now and the best part of all was that we were doing it together.
“So where to now?” Sasha asked me as we headed out of the airport and grabbed a cab, throwing our things in the back and my fingers slipping into the pockets of my coat. I hadn’t realized it would be this cold, but at least I’d come half way prepared for the chill. I shrug as she climbs in on one side and I on the other. We sat there in the heat for a moment before I’m pulling a couple of 20 pound slips out and handing them to the driver, who’s expression totally changes after that.
“Where to, my ladies?” He asked, tone rough yet sweet and gentle considering the money I’d handed to him so graciously. I had to check my phone to see where I booked a room for us. It was the cheapest one I could find that was over 4 stars, because we are college students and I’m not exactly filled to the brim with money.
“Lancaster London? The hotel?” I said quietly and he nods before he’s pulling off. I leant back in the seat and looked over at Sasha then, who smiles cheekily at me. It’s nice to know that she’s happy to be here. I tried to memorize her smile in that moment, because I know that after today, I might not ever see it or her ever again.
There’s this sinking feeling in my chest, that guilt settling in when I finally looked away from her and out the window to enjoy the sights. It seems like the ride takes forever before we’re pulling up beside the place and it’s absolutely gorgeous. We grab our things and then the cab driver is saying good bye. I guessed I had paid him enough up front that he wasn’t going to tell me the total, but frankly, I didn’t really care. We rolled our things into the place and I checked us in. When the lady went to grab the keys, Sasha nudged my side, making me turn to look at her. She was looking over at something or someone so I turned my glance to where she was looking.
Five boys walked into the lobby, shaking snow off their clothes with a few taller men walking around them. They looked familiar and Sasha’s reaction only made it more painfully obvious. It was the One Direction blokes, but I had to nudge her as the lady handed me our keys, making her turn back as they approached the area that we were standing at. Her features drop a little when she sees who’s behind us and I can’t help but chuckle. That means she’s going to have to deal with fan girls like Sasha trying to get in their rooms…and their pants.
“Have a great day,” She says to me and Sasha half heartedly and I just smile and have to drag Sasha away from the area before she embarrasses herself. We make it to the elevator and the doors start to close before someone’s screaming wait and I decide to be generous and hold the door open by pressing the button. We’re greeted by dimples and curls and the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Thanks,” He says and Sasha is literally shaking in the corner of the elevator as the other five boys and the body guards shuffle in. The curly haired one’s arms brushes past me as he presses the button for their floor, one further up than ours and it’s deathly silent. Sasha is near a heart attack before we’re on our floor and I’m dragging her out again, the slightly sweet scent of the curly haired boy trapped in my senses.
9/28/13