A Dose Of Perspective

So you think you're having a rough go? Try waiting for a kidney transplant.

My brother-in-law got a new kidney yesterday.

That matter-of-fact statement can’t begin to shed light on the heartache, hope, and challenges that Burke has faced and overcome during the past 12-18 months. Or the past, I don’t know, 25 years, give or take. If you think you’ve faced some challenges in your life, I’ll wager that what Burke has dealt with puts your difficulties to shame. Not that it’s a competition, mind you.

I can’t even begin to chronicle his myriad health issues, but it more or less started when he suffered a heart attack in his mid-20s. Not long after that, one kidney failed, and he received a transplant from a brother-law in 1998. That kidney lasted until just after I met my wife, Erin, about 12 years ago when Liz, a nurse who works with Erin, was a match and donated a kidney to Burke. Liz and Burke’s families have remained close to this day for very understandable and remarkable reasons.

Over the past 12-18 months, that kidney has shown signs of failure, and Burke’s health began to decline steadily. Before long, his wife, Amy, began to worry that he was dying. Then they learned that Burke was eligible for in-home dialysis. That process can be time-consuming and challenging, but Burke and Amy figured out how to make it work. They fit it into their schedules, and before long, Burke was back to his old self as they waited for a donated kidney to become available.

One of the great things about the problematic situation Burke and Amy faced was how people around them pitched in to help. They’re both teachers in Longview, about an hour north of Portland, and during the time Burke was too ill to work, other teachers donated their vacation time to him so that he wouldn’t be without income. No one asked them to do it; they stepped up because they knew Burke was in a tough place.

(Tough times show you who your friends are, no? And good people attract good people.)

Fortunately, Burke and Amy’s three children- two in college and one in junior high- have been through this before. Of course, no child wants to face even the remote possibility of losing their father, which was never a serious risk in Burke's case. Still, kidney failure is no small thing. All three kids, while concerned for their father, have been a solid support system for Burke and Amy, even as they’ve dealt with their own private fears for their father.

If you met Burke, you’d never know he was someone with a challenging medical history. He’s one of the most solid people I know. He’s practical, funny, friendly, and an incurable smartass. When I came into the family almost 12 years ago, he and I bonded almost immediately, perhaps because he had been in the same situation once upon a time. He remembered what it was like to come into the family and try to fit in, and he helped to make it easier for me. Now he’s simultaneously a combination of little and big brother. And I love him for the strength, humor, and courage he’s shown over the years I’ve known him.

Even with everything he’s dealt with medically, he’s never been a “Why me?” person. Instead, he’s taken it on, dealt with it, and come out on the other side. Perhaps it’s a bit of “What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.” Or maybe he realizes that he has a lot to live for and a lot of great people around him. And I’m sure his faith helps to keep him on an even keel when life seems to take a bleak turn. Whatever the case, he’s managed to maintain a positive attitude and look ahead to a time when things will be better for him.

His wife, Amy, has been a rock. I marvel at her strength, given what she’s had to deal with over the course of their marriage- raising three children and caring for a husband with a failing kidney. Of course, she’ll credit her faith for helping her get through the numerous medical challenges, but whatever it is that’s gotten her through it all is something not many of us have. I don’t share her faith, but I greatly respect it. She’s one of the most positive people I know, which given what she and Burke have been through, is all the more impressive.

I watched this happen 12 years ago as a newcomer to the family and was astonished at how the process worked. This time around, it’s far more complex and complicated. My friend, Paul, was a match, but not a perfect one considering Burke’s condition (I don’t begin to pretend to understand all of the medical particulars). So what ensued was a sort of coast-to-coast kidney round-robin.

One of Paul’s kidneys was removed yesterday and flown somewhere to a waiting recipient on the east coast. Then, somewhere on the east coast, a kidney was removed from a donor and flown to Portland, where doctors surgically installed it in Burke.

Shortly after the doctors at Good Samaritan Hospital in Portland worked their magic, Burke’s new kidney was already producing urine as if it had been there all along. Burke has a bit of recovery ahead, but when a nurse asked him if he needed anything and he answered, “a cold beer?”…yeah, our boy’s back.

That beer might be a bit down the road, but to know that Burke can look forward to more years of what, for him, approaches normalcy borders on the miraculous. To think that doctors can remove a kidney from someone on the east coast, fly it across the country, install it in someone else- and it works for that new person? Well, this History major is OK with the idea that some folks who walk among us have the skill, knowledge, and training to play God.

Even if I don’t believe in God.

I still can’t get over the miraculous aspect of this whole process- not just this round-robin but everything that’s taken place over the past 25 years or so. This is Burke’s third kidney transplant. Will it be his last? Who knows? All of us hope so, but there’s no way to know. Kidney’s gonna do what kidney’s gonna do, and Burke, Amy, and the doctors will react accordingly. As will those of us who love Burke.

Sometimes, when I think I’m having a rough time and things aren’t going my way, I stop and think about Burke. Not that he would ever want to be thought of this way, but thinking of him and his medical situation provides me with a massive dose of perspective.

Things could be much worse. Could I handle what he has with the grace and humor he has? That’s the kind of question you can’t answer until you find yourself in that situation. And no one EVER wants to find themself there to get the question answered. I can’t compare my problems to Burke’s, but my difficulties aren’t life-or-death issues.

I’m grateful that things have worked out as they have. Burke will have a healthy kidney. Amy will have a healthy husband. Their kids will again have a healthy father. Paul will be considered a hero by those of us fortunate to be his friends. And Liz (Burke’s second donor) will always be a hero to us. A lot of people have given of themselves for Burke, but only a few have GIVEN a part of themselves.

It’s like the joke about the bacon and egg breakfast- the chicken was involved, but the pig was committed. Liz and Paul (and an unknown donor on the east coast) were committed, and I love them because they gave a part of themselves so a friend could live.

If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

I can’t wait to hug Burke.

(If you’re interested in donating a kidney, you can get started by looking up the National Kidney Foundation.)