2 Year Transplantaversary

Wow. 2 years. 2 whole years. I’ve had a kidney now for longer than I was on dialysis which I know isn’t true for a lot of people and I’m lucky I waited so little time, but man, in the moment it felt like forever.

I have a lot to say, so I decided a post on here would be easier than anywhere else.

I’ve been very open my entire kidney failure journey, but the past year I’ve stayed relatively silent besides saying, “Yeah, I’m good, kidney’s great” when anyone’s asked. And yes, while the kidney has been doing excellent I … I haven’t been and I hid that a lot.

If you’re new to me and my journey, um hi. *waves awkwardly* I’m Micalea. (Ma-Call-E-Uh) I’ll give a quick recap for anyone new reading this before I dive into the last year.

In May 2017 I walked into the emergency room. I’d been feeling rough for months. My feet were in constant pain (felt like I was walking on needles) I was having trouble getting enough air, my body HURT, I was sleeping all the time, and I was constantly throwing up. I couldn’t keep hardly any food down and I was getting weaker and weaker. I should add, that I’d been to Urgent Care NUMEROUS times before this and finally they were like, “If you still feel and think you’re sick go to the ER. We can’t help you.” (Cue my now horrified expression knowing what comes next)

Instead of getting a basic, easy to fix diagnosis in the ER, I was told my kidneys had failed.

I didn’t even know what that meant then. I was 23 and naive and scared and frankly too sick to even comprehend but I remember distinctly thinking, “OH MY GOD does this mean I have to have a bag collect my pee?! I can’t do this!”

Yeah, honestly that would’ve probably been a piece of cake compared to dialysis, lol.

Over the next year and three months I had to have numerous surgeries and procedures (more than the normal person would have to have with dialysis because my body likes to be a pain in my ass, haha) I started in-center hemodialysis, then moved to training for home hemodialysis, decided that wasn’t for me, then back to in-center I went, before in March 2018 deciding I had to do something different and went with my only other option of home peritoneal dialysis which is a tube in your stomach and you hook up to a machine at night.

But let’s be clear, no form of dialysis is a great substitute for a real working kidney. On hemodialysis I was tired all the time, sluggish, and miserable. On peritoneal dialysis I had a little more energy and I loved having the control of doing my dialysis myself while I slept, but the fluid that was left in my perineum lining (the lining that holds your organs in like your stomach, etc) made me look pregnant and it was just so heavy to carry around all that fluid weight. I was puffier than ever in my face from the dialysis and still wasn’t happy.

The last pic of my “fluid baby” as I called it. I seriously looked like I had a baby bump.

If anyone reading this has been on dialysis for years, I commend you. God, big hug for you. I did a year and three months and wanted to throw in the towel. If I hadn’t gotten a kidney when I did I feel it’s safe to say I would’ve refused dialysis soon and been gone 4-6 weeks after stopping. Dialysis is HARD and anyone who thinks it’s not is stupid. Your body isn’t designed for dialysis, it’s designed for working organs. I knew nothing about dialysis/transplant before this and it’s so enlightening. The media (news, television, movies) likes to portray it like it’s so easy. They make you think you need an organ and get one a day later. Oh, boy it’s not like that at all.

Anyway, my aunt, my lovely beautiful selfless aunt, gave me her kidney.

Fuck, I’m going to cry just writing this, haha.

She gave me so much more than her kidney though. She gave me a second chance at life, a life I was questioning if I even wanted to live if all it was going to be was machines and doctor appts.

I can’t believe I’m sharing this picture because I look like absolute trash haha. This was the day my aunt (beside me) and I were released from the hospital. 2 days after surgery. I was supposed to stay longer but was doing so well that I jokingly asked if I could go home and they said yes to my surprise. So yeah, in this pic I’m pumped full of steroids and fluids. I think I gained something like 20 pounds over these two days and freaked out but it’s normal with all the meds and I lost that weight over the next month as my body acclimated.



I said if I had to go through surgery for a transplant I better get a kidney pillow (some hospitals give organ pillows for transplants) I actually have two–one has the signatures and messages from the nurses and my doctors and I honestly treasure it so much. I also have two pictures of my aunt’s actual kidney inside of me because I asked my surgeon if he’d do that for me. He thought I was joking at first but I was serious and explained that I wanted to see what was saving my life.

The first year after transplant was filled with lots more doctor appointments (lol), but you have to make sure that kidney is working like it’s supposed to, so things really didn’t settle down until after I passed the first year.

And for me, that’s when the depression hit and it hit HARD. No one warned me that it was normal and expected, though maybe I should’ve been smart enough to anticipate it.

About a month after celebrating the one year mark I spiraled into a really bad depression I’ve never spoken publicly about. I’m a pretty private person, but I was always vocal about what I was going through with my kidney failure/dialysis/transplant because a lot of patients refuse to speak about it and if I could educate people in any way on what it’s really like, I wanted to do that, but when it came to my depression I stayed silent because I was ashamed. I felt like people would judge me because after everything, I finally had a kidney and was healthy so shouldn’t everything be rainbows and sunshine? Why was I sad? Why was I angry?

I want to make it clear I was never not grateful to have a kidney and to be healthy. But I won’t lie and say that there weren’t moments where I questioned whether I was supposed to be living. I don’t want to say I was suicidal, because I didn’t necessarily think about killing myself, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to live either. I felt very lost, very sad, angry, and so confused.

I wish I could say falling to the floor sobbing about how much I hated my body because it gave up on me was my breaking point to try to get better, but it wasn’t.

I felt broken and worthless because my body wasn’t whole. I have a kidney now, and I’m healthy, but this never stops. I have to take pills morning and evening to ensure my body doesn’t reject the organ but getting a transplant isn’t a cure. When you need an organ you have it drilled into your head that transplant is another treatment, not a cure, and you will need another one some day. (But I’ll be damned if I don’t try my absolute hardest to make sure this one lasts forever)

Because of my depression I was incredibly anxious and not myself at all.

I think anyone who knows me personally knows that I’m naturally a go with the flow person. I can be shy but if you know me well I’m a goofball. I’m even tempered. I’ve learned to let things roll off my shoulders. But during those months I was none of that and things kept piling up, the anxiousness, panic, and depression growing worse.

Goofball exhibit A.
Aka when you were supposed to go to a 5 Seconds of Summer concert for your transplantaversary and then the whole world got canceled so you improvise and throw your own. Because this is what it means to be an adult.