So, here it goes. I don't really know how to start talking about 22 years when more than half of it has been a blur. When I was a year old we found out I had a Wilms Tumor which then resulted in kemotherapy and the loss of my kidney. I lived an amazing childhood of sports, sports and more sports. Never even knowing what I had ever gone through. Always had a smile on my face and never thought of myself as being "different" untill the day at the grocery store with my mom. I was playing with my stomache while being bored watching mom shop for my lunch, when I realized some lines across my my belly that looked different and kind of confusing. So I asked about my deep scars. From then on the stories began. Mom told me what she could without scaring me and making sure I knew I wasnt asny different than the other kids. Both me and my family had no idea what would happen in the future.

After years and years of being on every team and working hard through school not many cares in the world, I came to the exciting years of high school. I had been going in for some tests to just "check up" on some levels at childrens hostpital. I felt fine, so nothing to worry about. But then the day came not even knowing to this day how these things happen, my Doctor told me my only kidney left was failing...

When you hear those words come out of the "important person" in the room, your life stops. You go numb and your so speachless. Your tears dont fall, your eyes find a fixed point, you dont know how to breathe and you dont know who to turn to. You want to run, but all you do is sink. And wait for "just kidding!". I looked at mom. She was pale. I started to cry not even knowing what kidney failure meant and what was going to happen to my life.

It started with Dialysis for 7 months. Sitting alone for 4 hours a day 3 days a week for 7 months. Hooked up to a big machine that would act like the working kidney I used to have. You don't know who you are anymore when you are on dialysis. You don't know who you are when you look at the ugly cord in your chest every time you shower. You are no longer a confident person. Your face is fat from the drugs, and your once muscular ankles are now filled with retained water and are massive. The only time you are happy at all is when you stand up and leave a Dialysis session. You learn alot about yourself when you spend that much time in a room full of Kidney patients that are all waiting for a second chance to come knocking. Nobody would talk. But we all knew that life might never change,but if it did for one of us we were so happy for that person to leave our Dialysis clubhouse for good.

After the hardest 7 months of my life, we got the word. My dad was taking the tests and it was going well. Everyone was ready and excited. I remember my nurse being excited for me to get my transplant, explaining what happens after I get the kidney ect.... Turned out it wasn't meant to be. Dads wasn't the right kidney for me, I didn't need to know why or the details. I was too sick to care. My best friend, my Dad was so hurt by it. I could tell. He wanted to be the one, he wanted to be the one to save my life. But he did. He will never understand that. He was and will forever be my hero for going through all the testing and for being so courageous. I just needed a kidney because emotionally and physically I was going under fast. So... Mom started the testing...

September 28th was the date. My mom was giving me life. A second chance. A new life. No more tubes, cords and sickness for me right?

I was in intensive care, in hospital beds, with infections after infections for the next year. There I sat.The sixth ward of St. Paul's Hospital. One day I got extremely sick . I have never felt what death feels like but if I could have a taste, that infection was it. The doctors told me the infection has fried my brand new kidney. My moms kidney. My own moms kidney was failing inside of me? well what now? what does this mean. I would give up if I had to go back on dialysis....
They put a Nophrostomy tube in my lower stomache and I wore a urine bag on my leg for 3 months because my kidney had shut down and was not able to drain. I still played soccer and hockey the best I could. Had to stop and catch my breath every 10 steps. But couldnt let this bag on my leg stop me. To much pride to tell my coach I couldnt breath. And i couldnt run off the field because I would faint of exhaustion. I was just trying to live a normal life and was pretending I wasnt deathly sick.


In the mean time after all the meetings happened my surgeon was confident he could fix me.
I don't know how. But he did. Just like Mr.Potato head he but me back together. I will forever be grateful for the courage and confidence that he had to reconstruct me. My life since has been up and down with health but has gradually come to a point where I am three months between clinic visits. For a kidney patient that is huge.

My story is long and complicated but I have never told it in detail to many people. I am just realizing now I have so much to let out...