by Beth Wiseman
“Ken doesn’t usually call in the evenings unless it’s important. He wanted to make sure I knew the renal team would be talking with the family around six thirty tomorrow morning. They’re going to suggest a kidney transplant—as soon as possible.”
Carley was afraid to ask the next question. “Noah, everyone keeps saying end-stage renal disease. What does that mean? Is he—?”
Noah finished her sentence. “Is he going to die?”
Carley’s stomach twisted. If Noah’s expression was any indicator, she didn’t want to hear his answer.
“Noah, tell me that boy is not going to die. He’s only thirteen years old.”
Noah opened his mouth to speak. Instead, he shook his head.
“Noah?” she asked again.
He reached over and placed his hand on hers, as if not wanting to alarm her. But alarms were ringing—about David and about his hand on hers. “The team will do everything to ensure it’s a successful transplant. It’s done all the time and with good success. But there are risks.” He paused for a moment when she pulled her hand out from underneath his. Then went on. “Anyway, one problem can be finding a kidney. Some people are on a waiting list for years. The best option is for a family member to donate a kidney.”
“Samuel?”
“Anyone who has David’s blood type and whose kidney is a good match. The best match is going to come from a blood relative.”
Carley took a deep breath and let it out slowly, somewhat relieved. “That sounds hopeful, then. Is there a risk to the person giving up a kidney?”
“There are risks with any type of surgery, but like I said, most of the time everything goes well. There are more risks for the person who receives the kidney. The body will automatically reject the kidney and treat it like it’s a foreign object. We give the recipient immuno-suppressant medications to trick the immune system, which helps fight the natural rejection of the kidney.”
“So anyone in the family who has David’s blood type can donate a kidney?”
“Only if it’s a good match, which is determined by running some tests. Don’t get me wrong, this is major surgery. If everything goes well, living with a transplant is a lifelong process. David will have to make some lifestyle adjustments and will probably be on medication for the rest of his life.” He stared at her with sympathetic eyes. “I probably need to let you get some sleep. I’m going to go back to the hospital and look at David’s chart. I didn’t even notice what blood type he is.”
Carley stood up and watched Noah stifle a yawn. “I think you need some sleep too,” she said before starting down the porch steps beside him.
“I’ll call you in the morning and let you know what I find out.”
“Okay.” She watched him walk across the yard toward his car.
He turned once to wave, then slid into the driver’s seat, turned the car around, and headed down the dirt driveway. Carley stood in the yard until he rounded the corner and was out of sight.
“The only bonus is that you’ll be here longer than you planned,” Noah had said.
Carley looked up toward the smiling moon and the twinkling clusters that surrounded it. It scared her to make too much of Noah’s comment, but there was no denying that his words made her heart flutter.
Lillian leaned back in the reclining chair in David’s room, although sleeping didn’t seem to be an option. The nurse said the medications they were giving David would help him sleep. She was thankful he was resting comfortably, despite the monitors intermittently beeping to indicate one thing or another.
Lillian glanced at Samuel, who was sitting in a chair by David’s bedside. It was almost one o’clock now. Her husband refused to even rest his eyes and stared intently at his son, watching every rise and fall of the boy’s chest. For all the worry in her heart, she knew it couldn’t compare to the fear Samuel felt. She tried to imagine how heart-wrenching it must have been for him to sit by his wife’s bedside when she died in this very hospital. And now this.
“Do you miss the boppli?” Samuel asked after a while.
He knows me so well, Lillian thought. It was her first night away from Anna. “Ya, but I know Carley is taking gut care of her.”
“She is a gut friend to you, no?”
“Ya. I’m glad she’s here, although this isn’t the vacation she planned.”
Samuel scowled. “She vacationed with mei bruder.”
“Samuel,” she whispered, “maybe now is the time to let go of some of your bitterness. He is your family. I know what he did was wrong, but he’s trying so hard to help us.”
When he didn’t answer, Lillian momentarily stepped outside of her role as submissive wife, as she was known to do from time to time. “This anger you feel toward him is not right in the eyes of God, and you know that. I understand about the shunning, even though it’s hard for me to accept. But, Samuel, harboring all this contempt isn’t gut.”
“What he did was baremlich. All these years later, you can still walk into the Gordonville Book Store and find a copy of his book. A book filled with stories about our family and members of our district. Some gut, some not so gut. But they were all private. Not for sharing.”
“I understand, Samuel. Really I do. But what about forgiveness? That is our way. We forgive, just as God forgives.”
“Lillian, I forgave Noah a long time ago,” he stated. “But I do not have to have him in my life. He made his choices, and he has to live with them.”
“Yes, I do.”
They both turned to see Noah standing in the doorway.
“And I don’t know how many ways I can tell you I’m sorry, Samuel,” Noah added.
“Do you have more news about David?” Lillian jumped in before Samuel could respond.
Noah shook his head. “No, only what I told you earlier. Just as I suspected, they will be recommending a kidney transplant.”
“Pop?”
They all turned to David. Lillian walked to where Samuel was sitting at David’s bedside. Noah stayed at the threshold, unsure whether to move forward or leave.
“Mamm died in a room just like this one. Am I gonna die?” David asked in a raspy voice.
“No, no, no. Of course not, sweetie.” Lillian said. Her unspoken fears stabbed at her heart.
The color drained from Samuel’s face, and he reached for his son’s hand. “Everything will be fine.”
David was unconvinced. “But I feel so bad,” he whispered. “I think I might be dying.” His eyes darkened with emotion. “I dreamed about Mamm while I was sleeping.”
Samuel stood and Lillian reached for his hand. He was trembling.
Noah rounded the foot of the bed and stood on the other side of David. Lillian braced herself for Samuel’s reaction. Nothing. She squeezed Samuel’s hand and focused on Noah, begging him with her eyes to ease the way, to reassure all of them that everything was going to be all right.
“David, the reason you feel so bad is because your kidneys aren’t working properly,” Noah began. He glanced up at Samuel, as if seeking permission to go on. While Samuel wouldn’t look at Noah, he didn’t bark his opposition either.
Noah continued, “Plus some of the medications can make you feel strange too. But, David, we aren’t going to let you die.”
“I know I’m gonna have a kidney transplant,” David said matter-of-factly.
No one had told David the news. Lillian looked as surprised as Noah and Samuel.
David rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I’m just resting, not sleeping.”
“You have two kidneys, David,” Noah said. “A donor can give you one of his or her kidneys, and the donor can live a perfectly normal life afterward. And—”
“He will take my kidney,” Samuel stated. He stood a little taller, his tone firm. “My boy will have my kidney.”
Noah raked his hand through his hair and turned to Samuel. “It’s not that easy, Samuel. A donor must have the same blood type as David, and the kidney must be a good match. There are tests that
determine who will be the best match.”
“I’m his daed. His blood type should be the same as mine, no?”
“Not necessarily. He could have his mother’s blood type.” Noah turned to David. “David, we will find you a kidney. Try not to worry. I know the hospital can be a scary place.”
“I’m not scared,” David said boldly. Then he turned to Noah, searched his eyes. “Is this my fault?” he asked.
The question tugged at Lillian’s heart. Why is this happening? We were all so happy.
“No, it’s not your fault, David,” Noah responded. “Your kidneys just never grew. You were born with this condition. It’s not your fault.”
David moved his eyes off of Noah and looked down. “But I . . .”
Noah touched David’s arm. Lillian could feel the tension in Samuel’s hand. “You’ve felt sick for a while, haven’t you?” Noah asked.
David nodded. “I’m sorry, Pop.” He looked up at Samuel.
Samuel shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry, Son.”
“But maybe I should have told you. It’s just that there’s so much work to be done, and I didn’t want to cause hardship.”
Lillian knew her own guilt probably didn’t match Samuel’s, but it was there amid all the questions swirling in her head. How could they not have known David was so ill? If it was anyone’s fault, it was hers. She was a mother. She should have noticed.
“This is no one’s fault,” Noah said. He leaned down slightly toward David. Then he straightened up and glanced back and forth between Lillian and Samuel. “No one’s fault,” he repeated. “All of you should try to get a little sleep. There’s a roomful of recliners in the ICU waiting room. The staff will provide you with some blankets and pillows. The renal team will be here at six thirty to meet with you. That’s only a few hours away.”
Lillian was surprised when Samuel moved toward the door. “I’ll be right back,” he said.
Once outside David’s room, Samuel motioned for Noah to come into the hallway.
“Try to rest,” Noah said as he circled around the foot of the bed and headed out the door.
Something is up. “I’m going to stretch my legs too,” Lillian told David. She kissed him on the forehead before joining Samuel and Noah outside the door.
Samuel took a few steps down the hall, out of David’s earshot. Lillian and Noah followed.
Samuel’s questioning eyes glazed with emotion. He inhaled slowly, pursed his lips together.
“What is it, Samuel?” Noah asked.
“Samuel?” Lillian was wondering the same thing.
Lillian watched her husband look hard into Noah’s eyes and painstakingly reveal what was on his mind.
“This kidney that David will get . . .”
“Yes,” Noah said. “What about it?” Noah stood a little taller as if bracing himself for what Samuel was about to ask.
“How long will it last?”
Lillian had just assumed it would last forever, but the look on Noah’s face said otherwise.
“Tell me.”
Noah ran his hand across his brow. “Ten to fifteen years.”
Lillian grabbed her chest. “In ten years, David will only be twenty-three.”
She turned to Samuel. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes.
“If all goes well, sometimes a transplant recipient can get another kidney,” Noah said, reaching over to touch Samuel’s arm.
Samuel jerked away and took two slow steps backward as he glanced back and forth between Lillian and Noah, his eyes reddening with each wide stride. He blinked back his emotion, lifted his chin, and spun around on one foot. He’d only taken a few steps in the other direction when Lillian saw him hang his head and lift one hand to his face, nearly bumping into oncoming traffic in the hallway.
Lillian followed.
Carley was feeding Anna when she heard buggy wheels coming up the driveway the next morning. Dawn had barely broken. She wondered who could be visiting so early. She gave Anna’s mouth a gentle swipe with the towel and headed toward the kitchen door. When she opened it, she was shocked to see a line of buggies coming up the driveway.
What . . . ?
She walked onto the porch and counted the buggies as they drew closer. Twelve buggies in all. Sadie’s buggy was the first in line.
“Sadie, who are all these people, and what are they doing here?” Carley asked when Sadie reached her.
“Both of Samuel’s sisters, Rebecca and Mary Ellen; their daughters, Linda and Miriam; Samuel’s mamm, Esther; Katie Ann; and several others from our community,” Sadie said. “Lillian’s mamm, Sarah Jane, got a ride to the hospital from our Englisch friend Barbie.”
“But what is everyone doing here?”
Sadie was taken aback. She clasped her hands in front of her and straightened, then blew a loose ringlet of curly red hair from her face. “Why, we’re here to help, of course.”
Linda handed Carley a piece of paper. “This is a schedule of who will be bringing supper each night. Everyone in the community is pitching in—a different person’s cookin’ for all of you every night.”
Carley studied the note. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Katie Ann inched forward. “Ivan has made arrangements for the fields to be tended to,” she said.
“And our sons will be here early each morning to milk the cows,” Mary Ellen added.
A woman Carley hadn’t seen before extended her hand. “Hello, I’m Lena Mae. I will be coming by every couple of days to pick up any laundry, ironing, and mending that needs to be done.”
Carley took the woman’s hand, feeling overwhelmed and incredibly touched. “Thank you,” she said again, fighting back tears.
One by one, the women advised Carley about the duties they had assigned themselves. A neighboring teenager, the daughter of a woman named Suzie, offered unlimited babysitting services for Anna.
“I’m Lydia,” the teenager said. “Mei bruder, Elam, travels down Black Horse Road every day on his way to do construction in town. Leave a note on the fence post by the mailbox. Let me know the day before what time to be here. Elam will tell me.”
When Carley’s cell phone blared from the pocket of her blue jeans, Mary Ellen extended her arms to take Anna. “Thank you,” Carley said. She handed the baby over and fumbled for her phone.
Noah updated her about the events of the early morning and told her that the renal team had just met with Lillian, Samuel, David, and Lillian’s mom. Noah advised Carley about her role.
“Samuel has already been tested, and he isn’t a match. He was really upset that he can’t be the one to give David a kidney. So now we need to see if any of the family has David’s blood type and could be a potential donor for him. It’s a very personal choice that no one should be pressured or coaxed into. If they are willing, could you round up Ivan and Rebecca and bring them to the hospital? The renal doctor will talk to them, educate them, and they can decide whether to consider being a donor. You don’t have to bring Mary Ellen. Lillian said she is anemic.” He paused, sighing.
Carley was trying to absorb everything.
“This whole thing is just ridiculous. I have David’s blood type. I should be the one who is getting screened as a potential match.” Noah said.
“I suppose that’s not a possibility?” Carley knew the answer.
“Samuel won’t even consider it. He’s very hardheaded and unforgiving.”
“I’ll talk to Rebecca and I’ll see if we can swing by and pick up Ivan.”
She hung up with Noah and promised to see him later at the hospital, then updated the women. Rebecca didn’t hesitate when Carley asked her about going to the hospital to be screened. Carley suspected Ivan would be just as willing. Carley also confirmed that Mary Ellen was anemic. Leaving Anna with the other women, Carley and Rebecca left to go pick up Ivan and head to the hospital.
Carley’s stomach rolled the minute she walked through the double doors of the hospital. The smell . . . She
held her breath as long as she could. When she was finally forced to inhale, she choked and nearly vomited.
“You all right?” Rebecca asked.
Carley nodded but kept her hand over her mouth. Only a few more steps and she’d be in the elevator—a brief reprieve from the repugnant odor and the painful memories resurfacing.
The bell dinged for David’s floor and the elevator doors began to open. She sucked in a breath, but it was pointless. She couldn’t hold her breath the entire time she was there. Nor could she resist the urge to peer into patients’ rooms as she, Rebecca, and Ivan headed down the hallway to David’s room. Sick people. She wondered how many of them would die in those very beds.
She pushed the morbid thought out of her head as they arrived at David’s room.
Carley noticed right away that David looked much worse this morning. His skin was 1paler and his eyes droopy, as if he was heavily sedated. Lillian and Samuel were sitting in chairs on each side of his bed, both of them slumped over with exhaustion. Lillian’s mother was also sitting in a chair nearby.
Rebecca and Ivan both greeted Lillian and Samuel with hugs. Rebecca kissed David on the forehead. Carley was hoping David didn’t notice the dread on both Rebecca’s and Ivan’s faces.
“How’s Anna?” Lillian asked Carley.
“Little Anna is fine. She’s with Mary Ellen and a bunch of other ladies from the community who showed up early this morning. They have meals lined up, each one taking a turn cooking for you. One of the women will be helping with washing the clothes, mending, and ironing. The men and boys are going to take care of the fields and milk the cows. We even have an on-call babysitter for Anna. It’s just amazing.” Carley shook her head, wondering how differently things might have been handled in her world.
“It’s our way,” Sarah Jane answered when Lillian appeared too choked up to respond. Even Samuel looked down, fighting his own emotions. “The community pulls together at a time like this.”
Carley stood at the foot of David’s bed and looked at Lillian. “I want you to utilize me the best way possible. I’ll help whenever and however you need me. I’ll stay at the farm and work. I’ll stay here with you. I can run errands. You tell me what you want me to do.”
