On August 31, 2017, I
was doing what I did every year on my birthday: I was at the Transplant Center. I would get my blood
work, check my vitals of blood pressure and weight, review my medications, and
hold on to every hope within me that my kidney beanies from my second kidney
transplant were still going strong.
Going on 23 years later with this second transplant and I still hold my breath
that I can continue celebrating birthdays, being with my family and friends,
taste and savor all the beauty and ugly of life, and just making the most of
every single moment. I am not sure when this
birthday tradition began of going to the transplant center. Traditions are a funny thing. Traditions kind of creep on us and we just
keep on keeping on with them not remembering how they started but always
wanting to make them last forever out of safety, peace, comfort, and because we need
some sort of ‘glue’ with family and friends that we love and hate and
everything in between. I am sure this
birthday tradition began around the time that I started to go to the Transplant
Center alone and particularly without my father who regularly accompanied
me. That must have been at about
20-years-old. So, every birthday, I
sat for nearly two hours in the waiting room.
For these two hours, I reflected on all the birthday traditions, like
Carvel birthday cake that has slowly transitioned to traditional creamy and
fruit-topped Chinese cakes or rich French cakes and a delicious dinner at a restaurant
of my choosing with my father and stepmother.
My mouth watered thinking of the divine food that I was going to dig
into later that evening when I received a text message from a worried friend
who said: “Are you OK? Why are you at
the transplant center? It sucks that you
are there on your birthday.” Taken aback, I
immediately responded, “Being here at the transplant center reminds me that I
am celebrating another birthday alive and kicking it and living it up. 35 and alive.” I know many who are
depressed, anxious, stressed, and whine about getting older. I know many people who stop celebrating birthdays
after a certain age. I’ve had people say
to me: “You stop celebrating your birthdays when you are old and useless,” or “Getting
older is just a pain in the ass. There
is nothing good to getting older.” My
response: “Getting old and older is a privilege that so many wish to experience
that do not get the chance to.” I’m not sure when the
fun, laughter, joy, and thrill of birthdays ends for many people. Birthdays seems to hold a much different
meaning and thought of very differently when younger than getting older. For many, birthdays are a scary and painful
reminder or getting older and even closer to death. For me, birthdays and all the traditions
laced with sweet cake, loving messages, and spending my morning at the
transplant center hits home of how life is such a gift and everyday that I am
alive above ground at 4’11” is the best and greatest of days. What are some
traditions that you have and keep? How do
you feel about birthdays? Do you dread
them or love and embrace them? When did
the thrill of birthdays end for you, or maybe it never did? Every day, I
PARTYEVERYDAY, but I PARTY EXTRA ON MY BIRTHDAY. Oh, and happy to
report that I received the best and cleanest bill of health there ever
was. Keep smilin’
until we meet again, Mary
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