It was a hot and
humid day when my cousin, aunt, and I boarded “China Airlines” to leave from
Hong Kong and arrive in Beijing. It was only a
three hour flight from Hong Kong to Beijing.
In that short amount of time, I was still looking forward to the free
beverage and snack. I was slurping up
my orange juice when my cousin and aunt said to me: “Make sure that you do not
eat or drink so much here or when you get there, otherwise you will have to go
to the toilet in Beijing.” I stopped drinking
and asked: “What’s wrong with the toilets in Beijing?” My aunt and cousin
stared at me, and then slowly glanced towards the airplane lavatory. That is when I noticed the line of people
waiting for the lavatory was going down the tight aisle of the plane. Why were there so many people on line?
“The toilets are
in the ground in the public areas and tourist attractions in Beijing. They are better than years ago when they were
just a hole in the ground. Everyone now
is trying to go to the bathroom here in the plane because they are cleaner and
can sit on the toilet,” my cousin explained. Rather than cringe
in despair or fear this grounded toilet, I enthusiastically said: “Wow! Cool!
I can’t wait to take pictures of the toilets in Beijing!”
My cousin and aunt
did not say anything. It can’t be that
bad, I thought to myself.
Guess again. The first time I
saw the toilet in the ground was Day 1 in Beijing at “The Summer Palace.”
Just before I
pranced in the restroom to see my very first toilet in the ground, my aunt
stopped me and gave me a handful of tissues and said: “Not sure if they have
toilet paper. Take with you.” 
I tried to squat
and my left operated hip began to throb and ache. I tried other tactics that were somewhat like
contorted yoga poses. My entire body
began to hurt. Now, I was beginning to
regret the bottle of water that I drank.
But, as a kidney transplant recipient (and even for ALL people who have
not even received a transplant) who had a history of dehydration, anemia, and
low blood pressure, I was told by doctors to drink enough water to flush out
the wastes for my kidneys to process into urine and then for me to go to the
bathroom.
I heard my aunt
outside calling me: “Mary, are you OK?” I finally heard
the sound of me urinating, but not without a trickle of urine going down my
left leg. I let out a breath
and thought to myself, “How does anyone go to the bathroom here without their
entire body feeling like it is going to break???” Curiosity and
excitement over the grounded toilet turned into exhaustion and a drastic change
in my eating and drinking habits by the end of the second day in Beijing. I began to refrain what I ate and how much I
drank out of concern that my pre-owned kidney beans would be overworked and
that I would not have access to a toilet OR, if I did have access to a toilet,
it would be one with a hole in the ground and my whole body would ache again. The toilet in the hotel was the only one that
was sitting, so I quickly made certain to drink as much as I could while I was
in the hotel and then go to the restroom.
I never left the hotel we stayed at in Beijing without going to the restroom. Each experience to
a public bathroom in Beijing became a memorable challenge to my aching hip
joint and to my beloved kidney beans that were doing their usual work of
creating urine and prompting me to go to the bathroom. With one experience, I nearly urinated all
over myself because my hip just could not take any more squatting. That night, my aunt helped me scrub my jeans. While she was scrubbing with the meager bar
of soap that the hotel had for us, she said: “Now, you know that when you are
in Mainland China that you bring tissues, an extra pair of jeans, moist
toilettes, a mask, and maybe anti-hand sanitizer.” With more than one
experience, the toilet paper dispensers were in the public areas where the
sinks were and you took whatever you could—this was considered a luxury,
considering that almost all public bathrooms I went to had no toilet paper at
all. The most memorable experience was
when a girl shamelessly left the door open and showed her squatting skills with
squatting all the way down to the grounded toilet. I was so shocked at this that I told my aunt
what I saw. My aunt explained
to me, “Mainland Chinese are toilet trained this way.” Then my cousin
said, “They don’t care. No shame. And, understand that they actually see these
toilets as sanitary because they do not have to touch anything while the
sitting toilet does require you to touch to a certain degree. Believe me, these toilets are luxury compared
to 10 years ago.” What began as a
hunt for the grounded toilet out of fascination quickly turned into a hunt for
a handicapped toilet, because the handicapped toilets at least had the toilet
above ground with bars to grip on to, but without the actual toilet seat.  I asked my aunt: “How
does anyone who is wheelchair-bound go to the bathroom on the handicapped
toilet when they can’t even get from their wheelchair on to the toilet to grip
the bars?”
My aunt paused and
said, “I’m not sure what China is like with disabled and wheelchair-bounded
people.” I shook my
head. I never would have been able to survive
in China. If I has been born in China, I
probably would have been dead by now without any kidney transplants that had
saved my life twice or I would have been house-bound and hidden from the pain
that my joints had caused throughout my childhood that had actually required crutches
and then a wheelchair when I was 10-years-old.
I was suddenly humbled by my father who had left Hong Kong so many years
ago for a ‘new normal’ and ‘new life’ for himself that has only trickled down to
all I have been blessed with.
I had always been
so eternally grateful for my second chance at life with my second kidney
transplant and now a chance to walk around China with my new hip, but now I was
even more grateful that my functioning pre-owned kidneys were still managing to
do their job and that my new hipper was holding on in the most challenging of
circumstances of the no-sitting toilet that I was simply and culturally not
accustomed to. More than that, I was
incredibly thankful for my aunt and cousin who had prepared me as best as they
could with the “equipment” (i.e. tissues) needed to live up to the toilet
challenge, and for patiently explaining that something as simple as a toilet
was actually one of the greatest examples o cultural differences. In only 4 days in
Beijing, I learned to never, ever take these bodily functions of my transplants
kidneys and my body relatively free from pain because of my hip replacement for
granted. It is a simple truth that we never, ever know what
we have until it is gone. And, it is one
thing to really know. It is another
thing to really understand. I was just
beginning to understand and have a greater appreciation for a simple sitting
toilet and a family and father who made this trip and my life all the better
and worthwhile. Signing off for
now. I’m pretty sure my pre-owned
kidneys are working their magic with me having to go to the bathroom now—and my
hip will only be happy that I will be able to sit on the toilet ;-) Keep smilin’,
Mary ;-)
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