On our parents' balcony before Jacquie's wedding

I can hardly believe that it has been 11 years.  Eleven years since my little brother donated his left kidney to me so that I might live.  In eleven years you would think that I would be pretty used to saying that, but it still brings the same tears to my eyes just writing it.

You know Jeff has never known a big sister without diabetes–taking a shot is what she did everyday, a couple times a day.  But slowing down because of illness is not what he was used to either and I think that is why he stepped up to become the big brother (despite our ages) and save my life.

I had lunch with my husband, mother and brother Jeff to tell them that the doctor recommended that I begin dialysis.  Because I was running my dad’s business at the time, Jeff asked, “What will you do?” I told him I wasn’t sure, perhaps I’d have to find a job.  Jeff piped up with a proclamation that no one expected nor could we proove would be possible.  Jeff said that he would give me a kidney.

We knew that we were the same blood type, but tissue type is another hurdle.  Nevertheless, my hero, my little brother was willing to undergo serious, complicated surgery to save his sister’s life.  And his wife supported his decision.

While all this is serious stuff–we had a ball making light of the process.   From doctors testing us to qualify us for transplant “from the rooter to the tooter”, to Jeff’s journey in the hospital from his room across the hall, to my room with foly catheter in tow and having to remind the newbie nurse that neither he nor the lead in the catheter were as long as the distance between them, so she should slow down.

I will forever be grateful to my little brother.

God bless and keep you Jeff. Much love,

Jac

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