I ain't kidneying around here...

I want you to meet Kiki. She is my left kidney. Tomorrow, on September 11th, Kiki is going to make her exit from my body. I'm sending her on a all expenses paid lifetime vacation to anywhere but inside me. It's not her fault, but she has to go. She functions perfectly. She's been a super trooper for quite a few years, doing her filtering job with nary a complaint. I appreciate all she has done and I tell her every day. Thank you, Kiki. You've been an exemplary kidney. I love you.

Kiki's problem is she has a little beast that is stuck on her. It's called "non invasive Papillary urothelial carcinoma." That's short for CANCER.

If cancer hasn't touched you or someone you know and love, you are not breathing. If you have lived challenge-free in your life, I applaud you for being from another planet. This seems to be our real life; the norm. We all have STUFF, we all face mountains, right?  No one is scott-free here in the getting-the-shit-kicked-out-of-us dept. I have friends who are fighting the daily fight, living with cancer. I've sadly lost pals from cancer.  My parents have both been challenged by cancer and have thankfully come out the other side. Who do you have?

Me? I just joined the club, but I'm lucky. I’m getting off easy. All I have to do is lose a kidney. (Wait, did she just say, "All I have to do is...?"). Sure. No chemo, no biggie, just a little nephrectomy. That's why we have two! (And if one more person asks me how many kidneys we have, I'm sending them back to anatomy class).  Dexter, my right kidney, is on deck, ready to pick up the slack. I've been talking to him daily too, telling him he's gotta man up. It's time to show 'em what you got, Dexter. This is your moment!

Since I found out about two weeks ago (during my Birthday week, thank you very much), I have been having daily discussions with my kidneys. Some have been candlelit while listening to Mozart (Violin Concerto #3), some just regular conversations while making tea. Doesn't everyone do this?  "Guys, this is how it's going to go. It's laparoscopic! Robotic! Bells! Whistles! Your sacrifice is all for the greater good! It's going to be OK! Kiki, start packing your bags, you lucky devil! You are in for one hell of a trip! Dexter, you got this!"

Surgery is ironically scheduled for September 11th, a day of great fear, devastation, loss for so many of us. One to always try to make lemonade, I have decided to reinvent this day for myself. I am visualizing Kiki, as above, (drawing courtesy of Duncan Cork), with bags packed, ready for her lifetime vacay. She has a ton of suitcases that are leaving with her. In them, I am piling the negativity stash that lives in my mind, my soul, my heart, my drawers, hidden pockets of my world. Every bad thought, crappy event, shitty relationship, bunk moment ever to happen in my life; they are all going in her suitcases. I invite you all to join me and fill some of her baggage. Give it to me. Give it to Kiki. She's going to take it all with her. My friend Lisa gave me her ‘irritability' (hilarious). Another friend gave me her miscarriage. Another, 2 bad marriages. What have you got? Lay it on us. We have room. We'll take it away. Tomorrow morning at 9:15am, it all goes. WE’LL ALL BE IN THE CLEAR.

I ask you to comment with what you would like disposed. Kiki is more than willing to take the worst of it for you. Send it over. 

Be free. Be happy. 

Catherine