Last week I had my 6 month post op visit with my surgeon. Everything looked great. He was super impressed with how my scars are healing, with how my life's gotten back to where it was, that my blood pressure was back down to normal range. I went for blood tests, my first in months, and asked that he let me know my creatinine level - an indicator of kidney function. Healthy for a woman is .5 to 1.1 and I wanted to be under 1. Not that this is something I can control but there you go.
I got an email that it was .9. Perfectly respectable. Higher than it was when I had two kidneys on the job but I'm not in any way complaining. I posted it on Facebook and my brother responded that our levels matched - he was .9 as well.
It was a moment.
Knowing these two kidneys, my current and my former were working at the same level blew me away. Enough time has passed that the transplant and all that we went through is hard to remember. How sick he was. How scared I was. How tenuous the entire situation was. From this place I know many didn't think it would work.
But here we are. With two healthy kidneys chugging along and doing the same job. In different bodies.
Moments like those I believe in miracles.