Yesterday I posted my outrage about the NKR requirements for voucher holders. Thankfully I listened to you all who said they didn't actually have to do that and I checked with my coordinator. I'm including her response. (black text box is what NKR sent voucher holders and white text box is from my coordinator)
Three of my voucher holders are very unlikely to want to go through all this for an organ that they're very unlikely to ever need. I wish I would have been made aware before submitting names.
Any recommendations for the pros who help seal your house from bats getting in?
Hello, friends. I just wanted to share this painting I did of my step son for his funeral. He died by his own hand on June 1st and I started this life sized painting the next day. He was 32 and I was his mom when he was ages 3-7. I didn't really know him as an adult but we were still connected via my son, his half brother. I'd see him on holidays and we texted once a month or so. Usually pictures of cool insects or birds. He never stopped calling me mom.
He made a video before he died explaining his beliefs in an afterlife. I think he had made the decision to end it many months ago and psychosis helped him rationalize that choice in a way that his brain could tolerate. He described seeing an alien or UFO, the glowing, feather covered orb above him in the painting. That alien explained to him an afterlife of light and energy and peace. He was so sure of this that I believe he wasn't afraid at the end. He was excited to be free of pain and truly looked forward to his blissful transition. It doesn't matter what I think of this. The fact that he was at peace makes me feel so much better than the idea of a manic and anguished finale.
He had not one but two X Files posters on his wall. That's why I included the text. The insects are personal. He was absolutely terrified of them as a child and I helped him through that with some gentle exposure therapy. After that he was obsessed with them. It was my proudest parenting thing. He texted me moments before he died and thanked me for that.
A family friend casually told me that it was a shame he'd be going to hell since he killed himself. I felt like slapping her. Stopped myself only because, as a Satanist, I don't believe in hell. And a cunty moron like that isn't worth an assault charge. Fuck you, though. Who says that to a grieving mother?
Anyway, rest in peace, Levi. I'm sorry I couldn't help you.
I think it went well but we'll see. I was most concerned about the psych evaluation since I do have depression. I learned that only non-directed donors get that exam while everyone gets more of a social work related evaluation based on how well you'll cope after surgery and to make sure you're not being pressured.
They give non-directed donors a true psychological evaluation to explore why in the world someone would sign up for something like this if it's not to help a loved one. To me it's not much different than donating blood, which I believe everyone who can should do. So I was a little surprised that they still look at us as anomalies. I learned that some people do it as a round about way to absolve themselves of some past misdeed. There's also a new trend of people who plan to commit suicide try to donate organs first. Like do something good with their life before leaving. So they are looking for that now.
I explained that I was worried to get rejected because of my depression but she said as long as you have solid coping strategies it's not a concern. In fact, she said that since donors can experience some sort of sadness after donating she prefers a patient to already have experienced something that requires coping strategies. Like if a person never had to overcome emotions they are less equipped to cope the first time. Makes sense.
Thanks everyone here for giving me great advice for my big day. It was a complete whirlwind with zero breaks between appointments. I was starving and completely dehydrated by the end. I did have snacks and juice (thankfully!) but didn't really have time to eat. They absolutely should at least give you a bottle of water. It was literally 8 hours of non stop appointments and tests.
It's weird because after some setbacks that took weeks to overcome the whole process felt so sloooow but now my big test day is next week and it's all happening so fast! Not too fast, mind you, just fast.
I'm a little nervous about the psych evaluation. Mostly because it's the one part where I could say something dumb and get rejected. I can't do something wrong in the CT scan or blood tests, but this is one place where I can fuck it up myself. You know? Did anyone else feel that way? Also, I've had depression my whole adult life. It's well managed but I'm just worried they'll focus on that.
One interesting thing happened to me though. Months before I learned about non-directed donation I signed up to be tested for a woman in need in another state. I read her story online. I just wanted to donate and thought that was the way. I didn't hear back from them so eventually called my local transplant center and got the altruistic ball rolling. Well a couple weeks ago I got a call from the center representing the first woman. I told them that I've already started with my local people and she said that she's actually from nearby there. Turns out we're from the same tiny town and I had actually met her at my dad's funeral a few years prior. Wild! So we're friends now and she's going to accompany me on my test day! So I not only have support but support from a professional who has seen this process from the other side. I feel pretty lucky. She's rad.
I'm curious what the timespan was between the big day of testing and finding a recipient match. And does having a rare blood type matter in how long it takes?
After an 8 week setback (needed iron infusion after low ferritin test) I've finally been approved for my big day of testing to be a nondirected donor. I can't tell you what a bizarre emotional rollercoaster the past two days have been.
Yesterday my stepson suddenly passed away and today I got approved to test.
I was reminded of the Neitzsche sentiment that Victor Frankl expounded on: He who has a Why can bear any How. My Why is simply helping someone who needs a kidney and my How is now coping with this intense loss. My instinct is to wallow in grief and angry sob into my pillow (which, yes, I did do and I'm sure will do more of) but the recipient might be suffering and I might be able to help them. My Why is telling me to not make them wait longer.
My son made a goodbye video and his parting message was urging us to make someone's day better. So I'm going to honor his wishes and stay on track with donation.
I am being gentle with myself though. And while his passing was sudden, it wasn't exactly unexpected. (I'm trying to be delicate with my words here) Knowing that his particular suffering is over, and that he seemed to truly believe that he was walking into peace, makes this somehow bearable.
We donors do have a very unique opportunity to make someone's day (life!) better. Maybe even save said life! I couldn't save my son. I tried. His final kindness to me was to express that he saw me trying and loved me for it. His beauty was in his desire for the world to be better without bitterness. I want to keep that going.
For you, Levi. My beautiful boy.