My Re-Birthday

Tomorrow is my tenth re-birthday. There will be no rebirthday cake, no rebirthday gifts, but there will be some introspection.

Ten years ago tonight I got the call to get to the hospital immediately. Somewhere, someone was about to be taken off life support and a new kidney would be available to replace mine that had failed 18 months earlier.

Dialysis had been a long grind for me and my family. There are those who live for many years on dialysis, but there is nothing about it that resembles a normal life. But even with a willingness to accept that fact, I was never convinced that I would live long dependent on a machine.

So despite a severe case of nerves about major surgery, I was anxious to have it. By mid-morning the next day I climbed sluggishly up out of deep anesthesia to severe pain, a very long incision and a successfully working kidney. Recovery seemed forever. But at some point I realized that I felt better than I had in a long time. It occurred to me that my head – my thinking – was clearer than it had been. Friends commented that I looked healthier.

“The greyer your face got, the more I thought you were about done,” said one friend at church when I was finally able to be in the same room with other people’s germs. Anti-rejection drugs suppress my immune system to about the same level as an AIDS patient, so there had been a period of self-imposed isolation after the hospital stay.

That was ten years ago. My health got better even as my girth got wider (Prednisone will do that quickly). Life resumed its previous ordinary turbulence and has remained that way since. But while it’s easy to get caught up in the everyday problems and even crises, I don’t let a day go by without acknowledging to myself and God that the day is a gift, an extra day I didn’t have to have.

I’ve not used all of those days wisely or productively. I should have achieved more, accomplished more than I have. But there’s been some progress, as well. A natural cynic, I’ve managed to see more half-full glasses than I once did. My sense of humor was always tilted toward a biting sarcasm that has been pretty much banned from my conversations.

I’ve never suffered fools gladly, but it’s easier to be patient with them these days. There are all kinds of materials things I’ll never have, exotic places I’ll never see, but I’m not envious of those who do. My relationships with my children, sometimes rocky in the past, are good now. While there are a few people I’ll not be inviting to dinner anytime soon, I can’t think of anyone that I harbor animosity toward. One day the Lord will sort out the good guys and the bad guys; I don’t need to do it.

What I need to do is remember the gift of days I’ve received and be grateful for each of them.