For many years my dad was the epitome of health. He began running 5K's when he was my age, fifty four, or so. He'd win his age division and if he didn't he'd place in the top four places. He ate healthily, he got regular check-ups and quit smoking way back in 1965. About five years ago Dad began to have issues with his blood pressure. Test after test, medication after medication, nothing seemed to really get his blood pressure under control. Long story short, one day his doctor told him his kidneys were failing him and he'd have be on dialysis until a transplant could be found. That was about two years ago.
Today, at 2:22 p.m. I got this text from Older Sis
To say I'm elated would be an understatement. To say I'm nervous and scared would be an even bigger understatement. Though the transplant means no more dialysis, it also means the possibility of rejection, and all those other things that can happen with a surgery of this magnitude.
I ask once again, my blogging friends, for you prayers. Prayers of comfort for my mom, prayers of guidance for the surgeons, and prayers for my dad's body to accept this great gift.
I am on pins and needles.