Skip to main content
There are several ways to get your hands on a new kidney, if you are so inclined. The easiest is to simply ask someone you know, preferably a family member as they are - obviously - more inclined to be a better match and also more inclined to say yes. Unfortunately, my own family are a tapped-out resource. My mother has already given me one, selfishly depriving me of one now - bloody typical. My father couldn't, nor could my younger brother, and my older brother...well, let's just say he's off my Christmas Card list. So, with my family out of the running, I turned to my clutch of friends, all young and healthy, with two juicy kidneys apiece...tried that too (Godbless you Anna) but that turned out to be a dead-end as well.

The next option is to simply wait and hope for icy weather and reckless young men on motorbikes. This takes a long time, and now spring is coming.

So, without having the money (or the inclination, frankly) to go to Pakistan and buy one off the black market, I have come up with the perfect solution: advertise. Over the weekend, some friends and I were perusing mysinglefriend.com and it made me realise that I, too, am looking for the perfect match. With this in mind I have written what I am sure to be a guaranteed hit of a personal ad:

23 yr stunning female seeks male/female (nt fussy) for surgery,
organ removal and walks on the beach. Must have own
car, kidneys, GOSOH and organ donor card. Preferably
genetically compatible. I have a hole (where my kidneys used to be)
- can you fill it?

Brilliant, right? I can't see why I didn't think of it before. Of course, the first date might be a bit awkward...but I reckon I could lighten the mood a few "I need your organ inside me" jokes. Now all I have to do is sit back and wait for the offers to come flooding in.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The nights are closing in

The final step of my home dialysis journey (bleugh, journey...sounds like I'm on The X Factor) begins on the 22nd July when Nurse Carla will arrive with a sleeping bag and, presumably, some strong coffee, and sit on my sofa all night whilst I perform my first nocturnal session. It is the dialysis equivalent of hiring a wet nurse. During a regular daytime session, nothing should go wrong unless I have lined the machine carelessly with one eye on Only Connect and consequently forgotten to connect/un-clamp/tighten something pivotal. Dermot should behave, stay quiet and not do any of his ghastly alarm-yelping. At night, however, the chances of rolling over onto the tubes and occluding the blood flow, or the needles falling out and slowly bleeding to death, are much higher, what with all the concurrent sleeping I'll be doing; when this happens Dermot senses DANGER and screams at me. Undoubtedly, my first session with Carla will be seamless; I know from experience that it is only ...
1 comment
Read more

Postscript

You wouldn't believe where I am. You could guess, if you've seen the gratuitous images of my self-satisfied gurning face in front of an infinity pool on Facebook...otherwise you might find it hard to imagine the paradise in which I currently find myself. I am in Dubai. Bar Abby Clancey and the cast of TOWIE, is is not everyone's idea of paradise - it actually wasn't mine. It is exciting, exotic and fucking hot, but the skyscrapers and traffic, the desert and cultural  deficiency (not to mention the chavs that clutter up the Ritz Carlton these days, I mean honestly...) suggest you'd be hard-pushed to call it paradise. It is vaulted to utopian heights simply because, four-months after the transplant, I am here. My nearest and dearest suffered for seven years as I dreamily aired my wanderlust. Yet the reward of a post-transplant holiday seemed too extravagant a prize for which to yearn - wasn't a life free from dialysis enough? Wasn't having a drink when t...
2 comments
Read more

Snow business like this kidney business

Snow: renal failure's arch nemesis. Though probably not in Norway, where they can actually handle snowfall. Today's Times reports on how the country is desperately dealing with the "situation" now that we have...ooh, a good two or three inches of snow on the ground; dialysis patients fall into the same category as those undergoing radiotherapy in terms of the need for treatment. Last year, I trekked across the icy wilderness of North London on foot with only my Uggs, my ipod and a Tracker for salvation (much like Shackleton, I would imagine) to get to the hospital. Only to find the Northern Line was running. I am fortunate in that I can just about miss one session. For the last two years I have been on dialysis, I have missed four sessions: once to meet a "friend" who was in town literally for that afternoon; once for my grandfather's funeral; once because I couldn't be bothered (and possibly because there was an episode of Gilmore Girls I wanted t...
Post a Comment
Read more