Story of a Kidney - Part III

- Link to Story - Part I - My Story

- Link to Story - Part II - Aunt's Story

- Link to Story - Part III - Uncle's Story

- Link to Story - Epilogue

My uncle’s story is the final piece to this story, and what happened in Burundi on the missions trip.

Preparation

The missions team was asked to prepare messages because the trip was going to be heavy on delivering sermons to local churches and gatherings. So my uncle studied and prayed and was given 3 messages from God to preach to the people of Burundi.

He felt great. He was prepared, and while uneasy about leaving Grandma K at home, everything was in order and the call to go to Burundi was clear.

As a bit of background, my uncle is a serious man of faith and delivers very deep messages, be it in conversation or in the bible studies he led. He was confident in the word he had received from the Lord to bring to Africa, and he was prepared.

And afterwards, the family was going to have a lovely family vacation, which they have not done in years, in London and Paris.

Day 1

Upon landing in Africa, the first news they received was that about 20 of the 50 bags that were with the group didn’t make it with them. The majority of the 50 bags contained bath supplies for the children of Burundi, including orphans, the deaf and the blind. And both of his family’s bags were missing.

“I guess God is teaching me to have a measure of grace and patience for this trip”

That day, they visited a local church. A guest pastor was preaching in a very animated fashion, yelling and gesturing very loudly in English. He was quite annoyed at the spectacle and the speaker who seemed to be doing a lot just for show, and finally just tuned out.

And for about 1.5 hours, my uncle endured in quiet suffering. When it was over, he left relieved that he didn’t need to be subject to this man any longer.

That night the group visited a different local church. But unfortunately, the same guest pastor as the other church earlier in the day was there to preach.

Even more unfortunate was the fact that the guest preacher was preaching in French this time, and the interpreters and translators all were passionately yelling along with the preacher. And so it was even louder and more bombastic, and this time it went on for about 2 hours. And my uncle was really riled up at having people shout at him for 2 hours but again just decided to tune out.

At the end of the day the group got together and discussed how the day had gone. One of the leaders mentioned how they thought the guest pastor had gone on a little long.

Day 2

The missions trip was supposed to be about preaching and delivering sermons, but it quickly turned into a construction work trip and medical missions outreach. Instead of giving sermons, my uncle found himself moving heavy mud bricks and trying to control the crowds seeking healthcare.

News arrived that the bags had come so my uncle and two other team members returned to the airport, and after spending the entire day in jeans, which he had never worn since he had gotten married, he was quite pleased that he could finally change.

Unfortunately, when he arrived at the airport, only 5 of the remaining 20 bags had come. And the 1 bag that had come for his family was his daughter’s bag. All that was in it for him was some underwear, undershirt, shampoo and his razor.

“I guess God is really teaching me to have patience this trip.”

That night, the group got together again. They sensed something was wrong, and one of the leaders spoke. He had been convicted that what he had said earlier about the guest pastor going on a little long, was wrong and not of the spirit of God.

He said the Lord convicted him, saying “How dare you touch my anointed”

When my uncle heard that, he began to realize what his own problem was, and began to repent.

The week before

As the trip continued, there was no hint of delivering any sort of message or word to anyone. The missions was virtually exclusively construction, and medicine. My uncle is a corporate lawyer. He has nothing to offer in the field of medicine, and so he either continued to try to direct lines during medical outreach, or clean the large space they used including trying to get rid of a mouse, or did heavy manual labor.

But God began to unfold to him what was happening in his own heart and soul. The reason that God had withheld his bags, and even his clothes, was because of iniquity in the heart of my uncle. A spiritual pride to preach and be great in the kingdom of heaven.

Instead God sent forth my uncle’s undergarments and toiletries, because my uncle was not yet ready to be clothed with any righteousness of God, or any anointing spirit.

He had to be cleansed.

As my uncle finally understood, he repented. And of course his bag and clothes came the next day.

The day of

My uncle had been asked to give a couple brief talks in various settings as the trip wore on. But on Sunday, August 9, 2009, my uncle was asked to deliver a message to a local church. Including interpretation and translation, he would have 45 minutes to give a sermon.

My uncle thought, no problem. I go on for over an hour with my nephew’s bible study. 45 minutes with interpretation will be a piece of cake.

Of the 3 messages he had prepared, he felt particularly led to preach one of them in particular. From Ezekiel 37; the message of two sticks becoming one.

As he got up and delivered the word, he found that after 20 minutes, he just had nothing to say anymore. He was almost dumbfounded. Embarrassed, he just ended with a God bless and sat back down.

Afterwards, the senior pastor of the church got up to fill the rest of the time. But he was oddly excited. He got up and began to talk to the church

“If you were here 5 days ago, you would understand that the message preached then was the exact same message as the one preached now. It was indeed a prophetic word.”

But my uncle didn’t quite see it like that. He said that it was as if a wrecking ball had been taken to ego and cleared of everything that was there. He had been so confident in his preaching, and his anointing, and all he could muster was 20 minutes, including interpretation. And it wasn’t even new.

But a strange thing happened. As God broke down and cleared out my uncle’s heart and soul, my uncle became free. He didn’t quite understand it, but he was free.

He always thought that, just a little bit, he was special. His knowledge, his understanding of the word, the depth of his faith, the anointing he had received. But God told him right then and there, that God was not a respecter of men, but a lover of all. God loves him not because my uncle is special, but precisely because he is not.

The night of

Burundi is six hours ahead of EST. My uncle returned and went to a Burundian sister’s house with my aunt to pack bed and bath kits for children and staff members at the deaf and blind school. As they were busy packing, there was a call from the missions department from his church back in the states.

Immediately, my uncle thought to himself, “oh no, something has gone wrong with my mother in law”

When he got in touch with the missions department, it was the first message that had been sent to him. That there was a possible kidney match for grandma K.

Stunned, my uncle thought. Could this be? Could this possibly be? That on the day that I preached Ezekiel 37 to the people of Burundi, that the very same Ezekiel 37, the prophetic word that was delivered to my wife 2 years ago, about dry bones becoming flesh, would be fulfilled in my own household? On the very same day?

Then he thought, no, no way. That can’t be. We’ve had a false alarm before about a possible kidney match. It’s not going to happen. Besides, we have to go to London and Paris. I’m really looking forward to spending time with my wife and daughter in London and Paris.

So he shared the news with his family, gave me his contact information, and went to bed without hearing back from me.

Past midnight of

At around 2:30am in the morning, my uncle’s cell phone rang. It was me.

“Hey samchon (uncle), the kidney is a match. We are going to the hospital right now”

Pause.

“Ok.”

“Ok.”

It wasn’t a possibility. It was a reality.

Back in the US

The trip was cut short, and there was no vacation in London and Paris (much to my cousin’s dismay). When my uncle returned to church, he ran into a sister from the translations ministry.

“Oh! I was praying for you”

“Oh. That’s great! Thank you.”

“No, no. I mean as I was praying, I saw you. And you had stood up to preach, but you stood there helpless, because you lacked the power to preach. And so I prayed for you”

Again, stunned at all the pieces that were in motion. That God would use a woman from back in the states to pray for his heart to open, that he could even deliver that one sermon from the heart of God.

And as he delivered that sermon, pieces were set into motion to restore Grandma K.

Grandma K

When my uncle went to see Grandma K a few days after the surgery, she looked remarkably well. My uncle said that there was a supernatural life that was sustaining her, and that it wasn’t possible for an 81 year old woman to look like this and have this much energy after a major surgery.

It was to the point where K said she was fine and didn’t need morphine or any pain killers for 5 days. No pain killers for 5 days after a kidney transplant surgery.

As the supernatural anointing was lifted, Grandma K came back down to earth, at home, and began the recuperation process that she is still undergoing today. But day by day she is getting stronger, and the kidney is functioning properly and she’s off dialysis. She’s able to eat just about anything she wants, and her cognition is becoming clearer.

And without a doubt, she is restored to living flesh, and is a living testimony of God’s mercy, power and promise.

Story of a Kidney - Part II

- Link to Story - Part I - My Story

- Link to Story - Part II - Aunt's Story

- Link to Story - Part III - Uncle's Story

- Link to Story - Epilogue

When my uncle’s family came back from Africa after having cut their trip short to get back to Grandma, it took a bit of time before I could meet up with them. But I finally got to sit down and have lunch with them a couple Sundays ago. My uncle was giving a testimony at church about the mission trip in Africa, but I got the whole version first, from both my uncle and my aunt M.

What I didn’t know, was that this story began years ago.

My Aunt’s Story

Three years ago, Grandma K and my aunt went on a missions trip to Uzbekistan. She did work all day with no problem; at 78 she was in very good health and even complained about how younger people got sick and were skipping days.

“I never get sick. I’m 78 and I’m still so healthy.”

Inwardly, my aunt thought to herself ‘oh no.. why would you ever say that..’ and was concerned something bad would happen.

Later that year, a powerful message was preached at church, and the altar call was for those who were committed to truly going all the way for Christ, whatever that entailed.

As a senior, K had a seat in the front row. When my Aunt opened her eyes from prayer, she saw that her mother was the first one at the altar, responding to the call. Inwardly she rejoiced, because Grandma K had only recently become very serious about her faith. But she was also concerned, because she felt that this was no ordinary altar call. Something really serious could happen. But it was good to see her up at the altar.

One month later, her creatinine levels were faltering and she was diagnosed with kidney failure. This was two years ago.

The journey begins, and the provision begins

As Grandma K’s body began to deteriorate, somehow her kidney held on at 20% function. Enough so that she did not need dialysis, but was seeking a variety of treatments.

One of the treatments was acupuncture and eastern medicine. K took a car by a driving service to get acupuncture. Somehow, along the way, the driver found out that K was not an American citizen and was telling her that it was irresponsible for her to continue to rely on my aunt and uncle to support her medicine.

This is America! The government will pay for your medicine!

So the driver took her to some sort of center and filled out all the paperwork for her to become a citizen.

When my uncle and aunt found out, they were like, what the heck? Who on earth does this guy think he is, taking our mother to random places?

So they let the paperwork sit. But as K’s condition became worse, she told them to file the papers. So they did.

And within 2 months she was a citizen with Medicare B. And what my aunt and uncle didn’t know was that right around the same time, K’s premium would’ve spiked to around $700 a month for private insurance.

The word

Early on, Grandma K’s body became a living husk as she went from 125lbs to about 95lbs. Simply not knowing what to do, my aunt prayed. And she received a word from God.

Ezekiel 37 - That dry bones would become living flesh again, and that it would become a great and exceeding army.

She was shocked but, she had received a word and a promise from God that her mother, who was a pile bones, would be restored and be a great testament. She shared this with my uncle, who at first was skeptical but then received witness that this was a true word of God.

And so with faith, my uncle and aunt proceeded, even boldly enough to tell people that they believed that God would do something miraculous with Grandma K, that it would be a great testament. Even though she was 79.

This was two years ago.

The journey continues

My aunt and uncle believed that K would be restored. But there just was no sign of it happening. Her body would deteriorate, plateau, then deteriorate further until they had to consider dialysis as a treatment option.

They were at first adamantly against dialysis. It was almost a death sentence for a woman of 79, as it was a great strain on the body. But there were no other options left. So she started dialysis, and her condition continued to deteriorate.

Decision to go to Burundi

A couple months ago, my aunt and uncle had just about lost hope and given up. My uncle asked my aunt is she really did receive that word from Ezekiel. I mean, he had been sure at the time that it was a true word, but there was just no sign or any reason to believe that it would come true. Grandma K was dying.

For my aunt to go to Burundi was an absolutely illogical decision. She was her only daughter, and she would be gone for three weeks. My aunt was wrought over the decision because she felt she had been led to go, but that direction didn’t make any sense.

But then God told her,

“You go take care of my people, and I will take care of your people.”

My aunt is K’s only daughter. After her father passed away, she was the only family they had. While K didn’t get in the way of my uncle and aunt’s marriage, she was living with them. My aunt was the person K relied on the most.

There were two things that needed to happen here. My aunt needed to trust K to God, and fulfill her role as wife and follow her husband, and leave her mother for the first time since she was married. And K needed to lose the last person she trusted in, so the only trust she had left was in God.

So having received this, my aunt went to Burundi.

Checkup

Before she left for Burundi, my aunt was dotting her i’s and crossing her t’s and had Grandma K checked with various specialists that vetted her to be okay for a possible kidney transplant, including a cardiologist. My uncle thought she was wasting her time, but my aunt is a very thorough person.

So having everything in place, hired hands, helpers for dialysis, and her nephew to take K to church, my aunt left with the family to go to Africa.

The day of the transplant

I did not know this part of the story, because it happened after I left.

I had asked the transplant coordinator if it was okay for K to eat, and she said it was so K ate something. This in turn delayed the surgery because they had to wait for the food to digest before they could proceed.

But at the same time, the head surgeon had serious concerns about some of K’s heart issues. My mom didn’t know what to say but my younger aunt immediately thought to call aunt M in Africa. Because they had to wait anyway for K to digest her late dinner, they managed to get in touch.

What proceeded was a series of international phone calls that decided whether or not K, after all this, would get the kidney. The head surgeon was not going to operate. But my aunt finally got the cardiologist she had checked up with to get on the phone with the surgeon. After speaking to the cardiologist who OK-ed K for surgery, the surgeon agreed to do the surgery.

Afterwards, when my aunt returned to the states and later spoke to the surgeon after the transplant, she asked if that phone call had been the deciding moment as to whether or not K got the kidney.

He said it was. If the phone calls had never happened, they would not have done the surgery. And K would not have gotten the kidney.

The word fulfilled

My aunt spoke w/ Grandma K after the transplant. K had accepted that she was dying and had given up hope.

But with all these brushstrokes and pieces in place, God fulfilled the word that had been given to my aunt two years ago. And Grandma K was being restored to living flesh, to become a powerful and exceeding army.

Yet still, the story does not end here.

Story of a Kidney - Epilogue

- Link to Story - Part I - My Story

- Link to Story - Part II - Aunt's Story

- Link to Story - Part III - Uncle's Story

- Link to Story - Epilogue

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Today our family gathered for labor day weekend and had a barbecue outside at my parents house. My uncle’s family came, except Grandma K was resting at home. And my younger uncle’s family came as well, and everyone in one place was able to hear every part of the story.

My dad spoke frankly about what he had learned, even from the first story, my story.

How God Works

My family looked at me and commented on how I was the appropriate type of person for God to use to work. I didn’t understand what they were saying at the time. But a servant of God is someone who just keeps going. There is a time to stop and take control, but in general, it’s someone who just keeps going with the flow.

Any of the other people sitting at the table would’ve cut the nonsense that morning short. My dad said that he probably would’ve just wrapped her in a blanket and carried her out the door. My aunt said that nothing like that could ever happen on her watch. My uncle would have to be just about dead in order to still be at home at 9:51am on a Sunday morning.

But I was in no position to dictate terms. Or to make things happen. Or to force the issue. I just had to keep playing the hand I was dealt.

But the funny thing is, everything was going wrong. At each and every point leading up to the transplant surgery, everything was going wrong. Even after we received the initial call for a possible match, because the testing took longer than expected, Grandma K ate food, which delayed her surgery. But without that delay, we couldn’t have gotten in touch with Aunt M to secure the confidence of the surgeon.

But that’s how God works. In our mind, most of us were thinking why couldn’t they just have called earlier in the day? Or any other time while my uncle’s family was still around?

Each and every one of us have plenty of days where it seems everything is just going wrong and falling to pieces, so we get angry and quit and try to fix it ourselves. But that’s how he works.

The goal that morning was to go to church. Arguably the most important activity in a week for any believer. But even then, God’s plans were higher than the minds of man. And his ways greater.

Sometimes that is the only way he can work, so we know, without a doubt, that each and every step, every provision, every second, was ordained by God to the completion of his will and mercy.

I did nothing on my own volition that was noteworthy or amazing. I’m sure many of you got that as you read the story; I was just reacting and moving. I thought I was going to be an abject failure at the one thing my uncle had asked me to do: take Grandma K to church. Instead I was given the privilege and the blessing to be part of a miracle.

To my brothers and sisters

The reason I share all this with you is not only to share the good news and blessings that have been showered upon my family, but also just to give you a glimpse of what God is doing today. Not old stories of glory, or ancient texts of delivery, but what has happened just one month ago, and what is still happening now.

This entire story is absolutely ridiculous. And it’s true.

This whole thing was not an accident. But the result of men and women of God, taking up the call, taking up the challenge, to go all the way for, and more importantly with, God. To be obedient and to have the courage to trust him and be bold to stick to his promises, when there is no reason to believe anymore.

To have a tenderness of hearing to discern God’s voice, and the willingness to actually listen instead of going our own way. To have the audacity to choose faith. To have the humility to go wherever it takes you. And to have the discipline to keep walking and not lose hope.

And to walk in the fullness and abundance of life that was promised to us.

God bless, my brothers and sisters.

Story of a Kidney

- Link to Story - Part I - My Story

- Link to Story - Part II - Aunt's Story

- Link to Story - Part III - Uncle's Story

- Link to Story - Epilogue

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This will be a long story, but I believe it’s fully worth my time to write this, and worth yours to read it. While it happened on August 9, 2009, I didn’t get the whole, multi-perspective version of this story until recently. So I will now tell it, and unravel the tale as it unraveled before me.

I have a lot of ridiculous stories, but this one is far and beyond the most ridiculous.

Background

On July 31^st, my uncle’s family went on a missions trip to Burundi, Africa. Burundi is right in the heart of Africa and is the poorest country on the continent. My uncle’s family consists of his wife and his daughter (my cousin) C, who is starting high school this fall.

My uncle is my mom’s younger brother. His wife’s mother (who went to school with Martin Luther King Jr. and has many other ridiculous amazing stories) lives with the family and hereforth I’ll call her Grandma K. I have no blood relation to her, but she is part of the family and is always at all the family gatherings we have, because the only family she has left is my aunt. Of course, she is quite the character and more than welcome.

Grandma K

Grandma K has been on dialysis for over a year due to kidney failure and she’s 81 years old. My aunt had been taking care of her pretty much 24/7, as they had an in-home dialysis machine that she needed every day.

I thought it very odd because at first, only my uncle was going to go to Burundi. But then not only my cousin, but also my aunt decided to join him and leave Grandma K behind for about 3 weeks. I wasn’t sure how they came to that decision but they are a Godly family of sound faith, so I figured they must’ve gotten direction to go.

To take care of Grandma K, my aunt hired different helpers to come in and do her dialysis at night, as well as a maid to clean up and a live-in helper to make her meals and take care of her. But the helper, A, went home on Saturday night so there was just one role missing: Someone to take her to church.

The Favor

My uncle asked me and my brother if it would be possible to stay over on Saturday nights for 3 weekends, sleep over, then take a cab and bring her to church the next morning. My brother had to go back to school, so he couldn’t, but seeing as how I had no job, I had plenty of time and of course told them that I could do it. Grandma K is pretty hilarious and I appreciated any time I could spend with her. Also anything I could do to help my uncle’s family was a no-brainer, as they’ve taken great care of me in the city and also hosted bi-weekly bible studies at their house for me and some friends.

It wasn’t a big deal, especially compared to what everyone else who was helping out had to do. All I had to do was take a cab with her in it.

The first weekend

The first weekend S came and helped out and everything went smoothly without a hitch. We were up at 8am, out the door at 8:30, getting breakfast at 9, and at church by 9:40, well before the 10am service started. After church, some women were going to take her to lunch and home, so that wasn’t a concern.

It was a bit hard, because K had a hard time walking, would need to take a rest after a few steps, and I would need to support her from the left side as she held a cane in her right hand. But nothing out of the ordinary. It was also raining, so having S around was fantastic so he could go out and hail a cab first while I slowly walked K to the car. But now that I had done it once I figured the next two weeks would be piece of cake.

The second weekend

The second weekend S was in Vermont, so I was flying solo. But the forecast was no rain, so I wasn’t concerned. I got to my uncle’s place at 8pm. Usually, a helper, this time D, comes in to start her dialysis at around 9 or 9:30. Tonight, D was late and they started the dialysis at 10:30pm. It was a little worrying since dialysis took a long time, but I didn’t think much of it.

The next morning I woke up at 8 and knocked on the door to see if K was up. She yelled back to me that the dialysis wasn’t finished yet so I just got ready and waited. I don’t remember too clearly, I think I may have slept for another 30 minutes. In any case, the dialysis takes about 10 hours to complete, so it ended late.

The unraveling continues

I finally heard her emerge from the door a little past 9:30. I was all ready to go and almost jumped out of my chair when I heard her coming out to help her walk to the door. “I’m ready, let’s go” she said in Korean. Only, she wasn’t ready.

Unfortunately, Grandma K came out in a partial state of undress. She came walking out with a nice blouse, socks, and her undergarments on. At this point, I was mentally holding my head in my hands. I kept wondering what’s going on what’s going on.

I scampered about looking for another to put over Grandma’s K’s legs. The thought to get a blanket and wrap her in it actually crossed my mind.

As I failed to find her pants, she asked for her shoes and told me she was ready to go. I told her she didn’t have any pants on. “Oh?” she said as realized she had no pants on. And then she asked for her shoes anyway.

“What about your pants?”

“I can put them on after I put on my shoes.”

After trying to reason with Grandma K that that was ridiculous, and meanwhile my brain screaming at me saying this whole thing was ridiculous and that we were late to church, I finally gave her shoes. She slipped them on.

Church was at 10am. It would take us at least 20 minutes to get there. We were late.

I finally ran into her room to get a pair of pants. I grabbed the first pair I saw hanging somewhere (an admittedly ugly pair of purple pants of some sort but there was no time, seriously), and rushed them out to her, where she was waiting, sitting in a chair, with her shoes on.

Without really processing what was supposed to happen next, I just got down on my knees and proceeded to help her put her pants on, over her shoes, which took a little extra time. One leg up and over, ok, second leg, up and over, ok. Bringing up the pants around her butt, ok. And then I waited for her to buckle her pants.

Right as she sighed to rest, the phone rang. She told me to pick up the phone.

I never pick up the phone, it’s not my house, Grandma K doesn’t really speak English, my uncle gets an inordinate number of wrong number calls and telemarketers, and I really don’t like answering the phone at someone else’s house. But Grandma K told me to answer the phone, and she had to buckle her pants anyway, so I went and got the phone. It was 9:51am anyway. I was already hosed; we were going to be late.

“Hello, may I speak with K?”

I handed the phone over to K who had completed fastening her pants. I was ready to dart out the door, her cane was ready and.. she of course already had her shoes on.

Of course, instead of leaving, K was yelling at someone in English on the phone.

“No! I have to go to church! I will go later.”

This continued for a couple minutes or so I finally took the phone and she readily gave it to me, waving me off because she didn’t know what was going on. I wanted to get this over with so I could go to church. For the love of God, seriously.

“Hello? Sorry I’ll speak on the behalf of my grandmother.”

“Yes, this is the ### Institute.”

“Yes?”

“We have a possible kidney coming in for your grandmother today. We need her to come in to do some final blood work to make sure it’s a match.”

I tensed up. Eyes lit up. Then I remembered we had to go to church.

“Wow. Is it possible to come in after 12pm? That’s when our church service ends.”

“Umm.. you really should come in now. Or else we need to move on to the next person on the kidney donor list.”

“Ok thank you so much, can you tell me where we need to go? I’ll be there right now”

It was as if a light bulb went off in my head. I jotted down the hospital name and location, grabbed my bag, and began to take Grandma out of the apartment.

“Are we going to church now?”

“Grandma, God said it’s ok not to go to church today. We need to go to the hospital.”

The Hospital

I hailed a cab and took her to the hospital, where we had a wheelchair and I wheeled her up to the transplant ward. At this time I also got in touch with D, the dialysis helper, who through the church called the missions department and left a message with my uncle’s family. D also showed up to the hospital and tried to explain to Grandma the good news. K honestly had no idea what was going on.

As we waited in the waiting room, I just played the piano for a while. Eventually a nurse came in, asked her a few questions, took her blood, then let me know what to expect next.

The blood test would take a few hours, and it was 10:30 now. She was not to eat after 1pm, because she could be in surgery as early as 6 or 7pm tonight. She told me to expect a call between 4 and 5pm from the transplant coordinator. I thanked her, then planned out the rest of the day.

Grandma K was clearly out of it, and I thought it was just a bad dialysis experience, but apparently her condition had been worsening for a long time. Since she didn’t know what was going on, I had to argue and explain to her why she needed to eat even though she didn’t want to eat breakfast, I had to explain to her that she should be happy and that this was possibly incredibly good news.

The wait begins

After we returned to the apartment at 10:45, I ran out and got her some coffee and breakfast. Then I did some quick internet research on kidney transplants and expected risk and recovery time. I tried to figure out a way to get in touch w/ my uncle and aunt in Africa. I decided to email them in case they were able to read that:

Subject: urgent update

Date: Sun, Aug 9, 2009 at 11:25 AM

not sure who can get email, and I'm sure you will receive an update by message/phone sooner than you read this, but just in case

i got a call this morning asking for a blood test because the ### hospital will be receiving a kidney today. they needed the blood test to match the kidney.

we just got back from the hospital, it is 11:20 AM right now. just in case, grandma will not eat after 1PM, and we will hear at 4-5PM whether or not the kidney is a match. if it is a match, then we will go back to the hospital and get prepped for a transplant tonight, with grandma entering the OR (operating room) around 6-7PM.

D is aware of what's going on and i will call A as well, and i will be here the whole time. we are all praying

**impt** if this does go through, i am sure you are aware of the risks involved with a surgery, and grandma will probably need to be in a hospital for at least a week after (i did some quick internet research). however, i fully believe the fingerprints of God are all over this. last night, D was late starting the dialysis, so it ended late this morning. even then, grandma was having a hard time orienting herself and we had trouble locating her pants. we received the call from the hospital around 10am, which we shouldn't have even been around to receive, but if we hadn't picked up the call, the hospital would have moved on to the next person on the list. it was very, very fortuitous and providential; i usually don't even answer the phone here (i didn't last week, maybe i should more often) but i did this time around because grandma asked me to.

i am praying for her health and for the kidney to be a match. i will write again when i can.

call me at ### ### #### if you need to reach me.

God bless,

-b###

The wait continues

As I sat trying to process what was happening, I truly wondered if this was really happening. A ridiculous morning truly, now turning into a possible miracle. But I truly believed I was in the midst of a miracle that was unraveling before my eyes. If all that absurdity hadn’t happened, we would never have been around to get that phone call. We just would’ve missed it and that would have been that. What is going on here? It was a matter of 10-15 minutes. That’s how small the window was.

But in any case, I was tired, so I took a nap from 1:30 to 3pm.

I woke up when the live-in helper, A, came at 3pm. I had called her and kept her in the loop of what was happening and she was so happy, praising the Lord and telling Grandma K how good this was, that this was news we were waiting for, and that we should keep praying.

In the meantime, I had gotten to speak w/ my uncle and aunt over the phone, and now had their number I could reach them directly on.

4pm

No calls.

5pm

Nothing.

6pm

Still no calls.

7pm – Hope begins to fade

I couldn’t believe we still didn’t get a phone call. But on top of that, my cell was running out of battery and I needed to get in touch w/ people. On top of that, I had a sick 81 year old grandmother who hasn’t eaten since noon. But I couldn’t believe that this wasn’t happening. It just couldn’t end like this.

I frantically called around and after several calls to several places, finally got a hold of the transplant coordinator to give me an update.

She told me that the test takes a long time, and that to expect a call between 10pm and 11pm.

“What about eating? My grandma hasn’t eaten since 12pm.”

“Tell her that it’s ok to eat something light.”

“What about dialysis? Her dialysis is supposed to start at 9pm.”

“The hospital will take care of the dialysis if she comes in for surgery.”

“Ok”

I gave her my cell phone number to call instead of the home number, since A can’t speak English well and Grandma K was pretty out of it still.

I finally decided to go home to charge my phone, and to eat some dinner. I mean, I couldn’t eat in front of Grandma K who couldn’t eat. That’d be ridiculous.

Back in my apartment

I took a cab home at around 8pm. On the cab ride home, I realized that I forgot to ask the transplant coordinator about dialysis; what if we got a call at 10:30pm? K needs to start her dialysis at 9pm.. is it ok to end dialysis before it’s finished?

After calling some people with no luck, I remembered that my best friend’s dad was a Nephrologist. So I called up Dr. Kim and asked him. He had no idea why I was asking, but he told me yes, it’s okay to stop a peritoneal dialysis before it finishes. Whew, ok. I then called D to tell her that I would let her know, but that she should be ready to come in again at 9pm to start the dialysis.

I got home, started charging my phone, then ordered some Japanese food for delivery.

5-10 minutes later I got a phone call.

“Hello?”

“I have good news! I have a kidney for your grandmother!”

I tensed up. Eyes lit up.

“Thank you so much. Where do we need to go? I will be there right now”

*Laughs* “You don’t need to hurry that much”

I immediately called my A and my Grandma, told them to news and to meet me at the hospital. Then I called my uncle, where it was after 2am.

“Hello?”

“Hey samchon (uncle), the kidney is a match. We’re going to the hospital now.”

Pause.

“Ok.”

“Ok.”

I grabbed my stuff and went out of the apartment. On the way out I threw $20 to one of the guys who works in the building.

“Hey, I got some food coming here. Pay for it and eat it.”

“Hey B man, you sure? Is it good?”

“Yea it’s good. Don’t worry about it.”

“Wait, why you in such a hurry?”

“My grandma’s getting a kidney transplant. Going to the hospital now.”

“Whoa that’s crazy man! I never heard of anyone get a kidney off the list!”

“I know. It’s ridiculous. Catch you later man”

On the cab ride to the hospital, I called my parents. I explained to them what was happening, and they said they would get in touch w/ the rest of the family that was nearby. I also texted some friends, telling them to pray for K’s transplant.

The Hospital Part II

As I waited at the entrance of the hospital with a wheelchair, getting a little agitated because they were late, I called A several times. K is kind of stubborn sometimes, so apparently she had the cab let them off at the wrong corner of the hospital, even though I expressly told A where to go. In the end, and another cab ride or so later, I just talked directly to the cabbie and told him where to be.

I wheeled K back up to the transplant ward and there she was admitted and put into her own room. As she was checked up, I got another call from my parents, asking where the hospital was, telling me she was coming down w/ my dad and another aunt.

After settling in, my parents shortly arrived and my dad told me to go home and eat something. I had just started my new job, and had my 3^rd day of work the next day. It was 10pm. This story started 26 hours ago.

God’s fingerprints

As I explained to them the day and they looked at me in amazement, they said they were glad that I was in the right place at the right time. There were so many moving pieces and circumstances that had to be right for this to happen.

If my aunt had stayed and not gone, they would’ve missed the call because there was absolutely no way they would’ve been in the apartment at 9:51am. If D hadn’t shown up late, the dialysis would’ve finished on time. If Grandma K had worn her pants, we would’ve missed the call. If I hadn’t picked up the phone, everyone would be at home right now. If I didn’t take the phone back from K to find out what was going on, none of this would’ve happened.

I thought the window of opportunity was 10-15 minutes. But then I realized, it was a matter of seconds. If K had fastened her pants and I had helped her up, it was game over. There was no way I was going to answer the phone, especially if K had gotten up. It’s hard for her to walk, she needs my help to be at her side, and we were LATE. All I had on my mind was getting to church on time.

As I headed back home on the cab, I texted more friends, telling them to pray for K’s surgery. I talked with a couple friends to share the crazy day, then went home.

I ended up having dinner w/ my friend J that night, and I told him some of the craziness. We stayed up a bit late, but then I went to bed.

I got a call around 2am, saying that she had gone into surgery. At 8am, I got a call saying that everything was ok and that it had gone successfully.

I was just amazed. The whole day was a miracle. And I was so blessed to have been a part of it. And a big smile stretched across my face.

The day after

That day, I went to see her at the hospital. J insisted on coming, so he came with me. He also insisted on getting flowers, so we trudged through the incredibly humid streets for 30 minutes looking for an open flower shop at 8pm before giving up and buying some flowers at the hospital store.

K was so happy to see us, and she looked, well, ridiculously well. She was so energetic and complaining about everything and yelling and shouting that it really didn’t seem like she had just had a major surgery.

After sharing stories of what had happened, and Grandma K retelling the story full of holes and inaccuracies, we said our farewells for the night to go get dinner.

It was truly amazing. And it was a story I had to share with everyone.

But

What I didn’t know, was that I only had one part of the story, and that the entire story was even more wonderful, even more amazing, even more magnificent, even more ridiculous and even more blessed.

And I found that out when I spoke with my uncle and aunt when they returned from Africa.

I will write that next part next time.

God bless everyone.