“Well, I’m currently standing in my kitchen with bottles of pills lined up and the warnings they print on the sides staring me in the face. I uncapped it and took a sip, eyeing the pill bottles with distain. I exhaled and reached into my refrigerator to pull out a carton of coconut water. I’d cried so much lately that I didn’t want to start again, and I felt like I would from how sweet he was being. “If I could trade spots with you I would. How are you handling it? Because I’ll tell you what, it makes me sad and really fucking angry that you have to go through this,” he said, his voice taking on an array of emotions. “Dad called me.” My smile disappeared and I grew quiet. “Yeah, I know I’m a flake, but I think of you all the time and it’s the thought that counts, right?” “Hey, big brother.” I smiled, thankful for the distraction. My cell phone rang and I snatched it off the counter. I stood in the kitchen of my condo staring at the row of medicine bottles with names I couldn’t pronounce. The truth was, I needed to start dialysis immediately, and I needed to find a match for a kidney transplant. I was sick to my stomach over everything. The stress and anxiety of what could happen, and what most likely would, hammered through me at a pace I couldn’t catch up to. I read countless pages on life expectancy, threads on the side effects of treatments and both illnesses, threads on how my body could reject the transplant, chats on how difficult it would be to get pregnant and carry to full term, topics on how the disease escalated and ultimately had the power to take the life of a loved one. Hours of researching how both diseases worked together consumed me. Then curiosity got the best of me and I explored websites that led to other websites with normal to rare outcomes.

Antibiotics, steroids, blood pressure, and pain medication. I needed to know what I was up against.Īt first I started with the medications the doctors had prescribed. I knew better than to google anything, but I couldn’t not. I needed to start dialysis and get placed on a transplant list. The number four banged around inside my head, taunting me. My body ran cold and goose bumps broke out down my arms. There were five stages, and I was already at four. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Excerpt Twist (Off Balance #4) by Lucia FrancoĪll rights reserved.

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