The Emotional Gauntlet

WARNING: This post maybe tough for some people to read but i don't feel I'd be doing this blog justice, if I didn't talk about this.

The decision to donate was always an emotional one for me, after all my big brother was ill. There was never a question in my mind that this was the right thing to do. The question was, was I strong enough to go through it?

There were definitely times when i had a wobble and didn't think i could. Mainly because i didn't think I'd be able to cope with the ramifications if it didn't work or worse yet my brother didn't make it. These thoughts were at times too much bear and would often reduce me to tears. That utter debilitating fear of failure and at a really high price!! I was seeing the renal counsellor and this was a topic that we discussed at length. I tried desperately to wrap my head around the concept that it wouldn't be me or my kidney that would fail, it could be any number of things, the surgeon mucks it up, my brothers ill body rejects my kidney, etc, etc. It took a long time for me to come round to this way of thinking, but it still felt wrong to place blame at anyone elses door other than my own. Thankfully, the closer we got to K-day the less this bothered me. Thoughts of surgery now consumed my mind.

I was really scared, after all this wasn't a mere tonsillectomy, this was major surgery. This was scary stuff. I was having surgery that I didn't need to hopefully give my brother and his family another bite of the cherry. It was a massive cause of stress for me and I also knew my brother was scared. So I felt it important to show him I was strong, positive and not scared. He needed other peoples strength and positivity to draw on to help bolster his own. That was my thought anyway. His wife, myself and my brother, were this little threesome, holding each other up and keeping each other strong and positive. Doing our best to keep the whole thing as lighthearted as was possible. My brother is a very lucky man to have such an amazing woman at his side. I am in awe of her strength and positivity. A truly wonderful human being.

My big brother is eleven years older than me. I've always been the annoying baby sister that got on his nerves when he was trying to read or do his homework, or steal his CDs. He left the family home quite young to join the Navy, so missed a lot of my growing up and i guess we grew apart and weren't hugely close. But i always looked up to him and my other brother. They were and still are my heroes!! This whole process has brought he and I much closer together and it's wonderful to feel that kind of sibling closeness. We text almost every day and the banter is better than ever!! To see the sparkle in his eyes and the return of healthy colour to his face, warms my heart. I can't describe the feeling.

I did a lot of reading before the procedure, for the blog and for my own interest. I came across an article about donor post transplant depression. It was very interesting but I couldn't understand why someone would feel depressed about having just done the most amazing thing a person can do. I now understand it a little better. The best way i can describe it, is Christmas. There is this huge build up to this one special day, the day arrives it's wonderful. Everyone has fun opening gifts, stuffing their faces and getting a tad merry. Then it's over as soon as it begun and all you are left with is stuff and left over food. 
After the transplant, all the once split focus switches solely to the recipient and as well it should. They are the sick one after all. The donor is left feeling like they have been sidelined or forgotten about. It sounds like an attention thing, but it really isn't. The donor just had major surgery too and while you are praised for your bravery and thanked, people forget to ask how you are?  It's difficult to explain. For me, it started when my brother showed signs of rejection, I wept in my hospital bed, I was petrified but I couldn't show him that. I was so angry that this was happening, I was scared that all this had been for nothing. And i was pissed off that I felt i had nobody that would understand to confide in. Then as my visitors thinned and discharge day came round, I was happy to go home, but the feelings of being forgotten about didn't stop. Now, don't get me wrong, my brother and his wife had been amazing and I knew they were there for me but they had their own stuff going on. My folks were caring and considerate and I have a great network of friends to support me. I don't know what my expectations were, it certainly wasn't statues and sky writing, i just didn't expect so little. 

Now I'm sure this makes me sound like an attention hungry, self centered person. That is not the case. I guess when people don't see you as being sick they don't think you are. I suppose you feel a bit lost afterwards, because your part is over now and you don't quite know what your role is now or even if you have one. That's the best way I can think to describe it. i do know that whenever I see my brother all those feelings just melt away, because I look at him and how well he is doing and can't help but smile and fill up with pride for my brother, my kidney and I. The End.