Tuesday, October 21, 2025 – The Night Before:
The night before my kidney transplant felt like I was left standing between two worlds. Tomorrow at the hospital, I would enter a “portal” taking me to my new chapter/world.
I wondered if I would take a look behind me.
Behind me was the life I had endured for a year and a half with dialysis sessions that drained my strength, caused fatigue that lingered around me all day, and were a constant reminder that my kidneys were failing. Ahead of me was the promise of something new, a gift I could never earn but was being given. As I lay in the hotel bed, listening to the hum and occasional beep of my dialysis machine for what I prayed would be the last time, each sound reminded me that tomorrow would be no ordinary day.
Tomorrow would be life changing.
Excitement stirred as I imagined freedom from the endless cycle of dialysis, the possibility of renewed energy, and the hope of living without the constant drain dialysis had on me. Yet, fear lingered too. I feared the pain, the possibility of rejection, and the unknowns. Tomorrow was no longer in my hands. It would rest in the hands of surgeons and ultimately in God’s hands.
I thought of my donor preparing for their own journey as they would be at the hospital before I arrived. Their courage was a miracle, their decision a profound self-less act. They had endured countless tests, been declared a match for me, and chosen to step forward for someone they hadn’t even met and they didn’t even know my name. Also, by donating to me, they were helping their friend get a kidney from my friend Jeff – both being better matches in the end. The way this all worked out still blows my mind.
My family’s voices echoed in my mind. My parents had retired to their hotel room as we were due to check in at 6:30am. My sister’s family had called to send their love. I prayed for peace, for strength for my donor, and for wisdom for the surgeons. Scripture came alive in those moments, reminding me of grace, my growing faith, and the truth that I was God’s handiwork prepared long before this night.
Psalm 139:16 – “You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.”
The night felt symbolic, a culmination of blessing upon blessing, a reminder that I was not alone. It was my last night of dialysis, my last night of uncertainty, my last night of wondering how long my body could endure. Tomorrow I would wake to a new chapter, one marked by gratitude, faith, and the second chance I had been given.
Peace came over me and I finally fell asleep.