We all loved playing Age of Empires when we were young (many of us probably still love playing it), so just putting it out there, it was the best game ever!

Celebrate this assertion via music, some nostalgic, some not.

Pac Man (Olive$ Remix)

Organ Donors – Super Mario Bros

Electrixx - Tetris (Original Mix) **Highly Recommended

Le Le - Breakfast (Laidback Luke Edit)

Duck Sauce – Grand Steppin’

Grafton Primary – I Can Cook (Hey Now Remix)

The Texas Progressive Alliance hopes everyone had a happy Election Day last week, and is already looking forward to the next one. Here are this week’s highlights.

TXsharon continues to report from a backyard in the Barnett Shale. Despite all the local and national press on drilling related toxins, carcinogens and neurotoxins in our air, Aruba Petroleum Refuses a Simple Step to Improve Barnett Shale Air and thereby recklessly and willfully endangers public health and safety. Read it on Bluedaze: DRILLING REFORM FOR TEXAS.

refinish69 announces his endorsement for the Democratic nominee for Texas governor at Doing My Part For The Left. The progressive choice has to be Hank Gilbert with his policy issues and especially his strong stance on GLBT issues. Hank Gilbert for Texas Governor was the only choice refinish69 could make.

Justin at Asian American Action Fund Blog has a thorough take on the results of election day in Houston.

The Texas Cloverleaf provides an election night roundup of some of DFW’s races you never heard of, and some national ones you have.

If you dislike Rep. Dennis Kucinich as much as Mayor McSleaze, there’s probably something right with you.

quizas of South Texas Chisme notes that Galveston medical facilities are among those not notifying about rules for the poor, while CouldBeTrue notes South Texas Democrats join Republicans in shafting poor women. Shame on them.

BossKitty at TruthHugger Let me ‘dis’ the local Austin TV news media who gets around to breaking the Health Care Reform Bill news TWO and a half hours later. Hooray for the House Austin just lives in a bubble.

Over at BlueBloggin, nytexan takes a long look at another disgusting practice of our medical insurance industry. We Have One Twisted Health System, Living Organ Donors Beware. The organ donor’s family is never charged for donating. The family is charged for the cost of all final efforts to save your life, and those costs are sometimes misinterpreted as costs related to organ donation. Surprise for organ donors: unexpected medical bills. Austin man who gave kidney to co-worker is one of many who have faced health complications, billing problems.

Bay Area Houston says Hispanics, the largest voting block in Texas, are not voting.

WhosPlayin learned of an illegal meeting of Lewisville ISD trustees this past Thursday and Friday, and has video of trustees mentioning this blogger when discussing whether to implement video recording of trustee meetings.

Vince at Capitol Annex takes a look at an interesting story about Judge Sharon Keller of Court of Criminal Appeals that was eclipsed by the tragedy at Fort Hood.

Off the Kuff has six questions for the runoffs in Houston.

Harris County Clerk Beverly Kaufman toes the ethical line with her active promotion of an assistant for her job, and the local media thinks that’s just fine. Get the details in PDiddie’s Brains and Eggs.

At TexasKaos, Libby Shaw has news for Cornyn and Sessions about the Republican Resurgence. As she notes:

I wouldn’t gloat too much, boys. Your job in Washington just got a lot harder. Meanwhile, back here at home, in case you boys forgot that Houston is the largest city in Texas, three progressive Democrats and one Republican ran for mayor. The Republican dude and the old white guy with boatloads of bucks lost. The run-off race is between a gay woman and an African American male.

See the rest here: I have news for John Cornyn and Pete Sessions

WCNews at Eye On Williamson reports on the local toll authority’s latest shenanigans, CTRMA to jack up tolls on 183-A, add automatic annual increases.

Neil at Texas Liberal bought Thanksgiving cards drawn by a young person with cancer who is being treated at Houston’s M.D. Anderson Cancer Center. The design Neil bought is both bleak and hopeful.

Like so many thrillers, the idea for the plot of The Cutting came from something I found in the news.

I read an article about so-called “organ tourism.” Americans traveling to foreign countries for transplants they couldn’t qualify for here at home.

As most of us  know, there’s of a chronic shortage of organ donors and organs available for transplant in the US and other first world countries.  People in desperate need of kidneys, livers, and hearts die each year because there simply aren’t enough.  Some of these people are considered too old to qualify for legitimate transplant programs in the US.  Others are deemed to be too sick to benefit from a new organ.

This has given rise to a new and thriving international black market in organs.

Desperately poor people in countries like China, India and in South America often sell organs for money.  A thousand dollars for a kidney may not seem like much to us but it’s considered a fortune to poor people in third world countries.

And the trade isn’t just limited to kidneys.  There are many documented cases where people have been kidnapped and murdered so their organs,  the ones they can’t live without like their hearts, could be harvested and sold to an unknowing American in desperate need of one.

There are a lot of problems inherent in becoming a so-called “organ tourist.” You don’t know if the organ you’re buying is healthy. You don’t know if the surgeon is competent by American standards.  You don’t know if kidnapping, coercion or even murder was involved  in obtaining it.

So I just said “What if?”

What if, instead of happening in some third world country, it was happening right here in the US?

What if there were a number of very rich, very sick old men who couldn’t qualify for legitimate transplant programs because of their age and condition who were willing to pay an immoral but highly qualified surgeon just about anything to get a new heart?

What if they could be assured that the blood type and tissue would be compatible to their needs.

What if the brilliant surgeon also happened to be a sadistic psychopathic killer?

That’s the basic premise behind The Cutting (though the story takes a number of unexpected twists and turns in the telling.)

The Cutting opens as a beautiful young woman is abducted while jogging through the idyllic streets of Portland, Maine’s upscale West End.  The very same night the body of a pretty young high school soccer star is found in an abandoned scrap yard, her heart cut from her body with medical precision.

Former NYPD homicide detective and single father, Michael McCabe, left New York and moved to Portland to find a safer and more wholesome place in which to raise his teenage daughter. But he suddenly realizes he found a lot more than he bargained for.

As it says in The Cutting “standing here in a scrap yard in Portland, Maine, McCabe suddenly…knew with an absolute certainty that…no matter how far he ran, no matter how well he hid, he’d never leave the violence or his fascination with it behind.”

The Cutting is the first in a series of thrillers featuring Michael McCabe. The second, called The Chill of Night, is due out from St. Martin’s/Minotaur in late June of 2010.  That too was inspired by something I read in the news.

Like McCabe, I’m a native New Yorker. He was born in the Bronx. I was born in Brooklyn. We both grew up in the city. He dropped out of NYU Film School and joined the NYPD, rising through the ranks to become the top homicide cop at the Midtown North Precinct. I graduated from Brown and joined a major New York ad agency, rising through the ranks to become creative director on accounts like the US Army, Procter & Gamble, and Lincoln/Mercury.

We both married beautiful brunettes. McCabe’s wife, Sandy dumped him to marry a rich investment banker who had “no interest in raising other people’s children.” My wife, Jeanne, though often given good reason to leave me in the lurch, has stuck it out through thick and thin and is still my wife. She is also my best friend, my most attentive reader and a perceptive critic.

Both McCabe and I eventually left New York for Portland, Maine. I arrived in August 2001, shortly before the 9/11 attacks, in search of the right place to begin a new career as a fiction writer. He came to town a year later, to escape a dark secret in his past and to find a safe place to raise his teenage daughter, Casey.

There are other similarities between us. We both love good Scotch whiskey, old movie trivia and the New York Giants. And we both live with and love women who are talented artists.

There are also quite a few differences. McCabe’s a lot braver than me. He’s a better shot. He likes boxing. He doesn’t throw up at autopsies. And he’s far more likely to take risks. McCabe’s favorite Portland bar, Tallulah’s, is, sadly, a figment of my imagination. My favorite Portland bars are all very real.

You can visit our website at www.jameshaymanthrillers.com.

You can purchase The Cutting at Amazon by clicking here!

Next time you see someone mocking the idea that America could have health care waiting lists and death panels, point out that we already do.

There is one domain of medical treatment that is mandated socialism-only, by the Federal government.

And, unsurprisingly, this system has a waiting list of over 100,000 people at a time.

You usually have to wait at least 1,000 days…nearly three years…for treatment.

In fact, you usually die before you get treated.

Why?

Big government types have heartlessly condemned thousands to death, by banning compensation to organ donors

1,000 Day Waiting List

Because it’s illegal to compensate people for donating their organs.

That’s right, you can’t pay someone for a kidney, whether they’re alive and donating one, or they just died and are a good organ donor whose family desperately needs the money.

Because of this, out of the 2,000,000 Americans who die every year, only 5,000 donate their organs. The vast majority of potential organ donors do not…but, obviously, more would if they had the hope of helping their own families deal financially with their death.

And so, with this socialized organ donation system, there is a waiting list of over one hundred thousand people, and you will probably die during the average of 1,000 days you will wait for an organ.

Imagine how many more people would sign their donor cards, put that in their living wills, et cetera, if they could hope that they could at least help support their family, if they did die.

Consider how many families, left destitute because the bread-winner unexpectedly died without life insurance, could at least have the hope of compensation because he was an organ donor. In fact, 35% of all people who did sign an organ donor card fail to donate because their family refuses consent after they died. How many might have chosen otherwise, if they could be compensated for the emotional sacrifice?

It’s even possible for people to choose to donate some organs while alive. The kidney waiting list, in some parts of the country, is ten years. That’s 3,650 days waiting for a kidney, on a dialysis machine that slowly kills you. Yet people could choose to donate a kidney any time, even when alive and healthy. Frankly, I’d never do that for money, but other people should be free to disagree with me.

As dramatized on a popular TV show, Gregory House on his way to a modern-day organ death panel, which rejects his patient, condemning her to death

Actual Death Panels

And let’s be clear: Because there is such a waiting list, there are actual panels of people who decide where each donated organ will go. They pronounce who gets them first, and who will not be allowed to have one at all, because it’d be a “waste”.

If you need an organ transplant, a panel will actually weigh how old you are, what shape you’re in, even what your lifestyle is, and then decide not only where to place you on the list, but even whether to just let you die. That’s right, if they don’t approve of how you live, they can pass you over to die.

Older people are actually passed over, because they’ve lived longer, and more “deserving” people moved ahead of them even after they’ve waited on the list.

There are already panels of people who will literally decide to let your grandmother die untreated, because she’s lived long enough.

It not only could happen in the US, it already does.

Do we really think, given the chance, that this won’t expand into every other part of health care that becomes socialized?

Criminal Transplants

It is a far greater crime when the government causes a death, because it is using supposedly legitimate authority to do so

Like Canadians and Brits sneaking to the US when their governments put them on endless waiting lists for life-threatening or painful conditions, Americans condemned to die by the socialized organ transplant system in America end up flying overseas, to obtain transplants, if they can afford to do so. Therefore the socialist prohibition actually ends up linking wealth to survival even more, not less as intended…only wealthier Americans can afford to fly a foreign country and pay for a transplant out-of-pocket. What’s more, it’s far more dangerous than an American transplant, since the US has the best surgery outcome rate of any nation on earth.

Meanwhile, avoiding questions of whether people really want to sell their organs, or are doing it for money, actually produces an even more dangerous system of commercial organ transplants, that of black market organs. There really is a question of whether an organ obtained this way was gotten from a consenting patient…and yet such a system exists only because it’s illegal to do so openly, with safe documentation.

Fix Transplants, Don’t Break Everything Else

Hope and/or pray that the US transplant system is de-socialized before you end up needing an organ, so that you won’t have to wait for years, and probably die without treatment.

And, as important, fight to keep the rest of the American health care system from ending up in the same, deadly, condition.

Critical Madness “Organ Donors” Mixtape
The shit is really fuckin’ hot, and you’d be doing a disservice to yourself if you don’t take advantage of the Free Download & burn it for your whip!

http://www.sendspace.com/file/5t7ll6

RETURN TO SPOTLIGHT

Apple’s Jobs talks about transplant

By Jessica Mintz
ASSOCIATED PRESS

SAN FRANCISCO — Apple Inc.  CEO Steve Jobs returned yesterday to the showman role that has helped define his company leadership, taking the stage for the first time since his medical leave to announce such new products as an iPod Nano that records video.

Jobs, who had a liver transplant this spring from a young adult who died in a car crash, got a vigorous standing ovation from many in the audience.   Looking thin and speaking quietly and with a scratchy voice, the 54-year-old CEO urged everyone to become organ donors.     “I wouldn’t be here without such generosity,” Jobs said.

PAUL SAKUMA ASSOCIATED PRESS
Apple CEO Steve Jobs said, “I’m back at Apple and loving every day of it.”

updated  below                                                                            

By Jonathan Cook

September 06, 2009 “Information Clearing House‘

“…….the doctor behind the plunder of body parts, Prof Yehuda Hiss, appointed director of the Abu Kabir institute in the late 1980s, has never been jailed despite admitting to the organ theft and he continues to be the state’s chief pathologist at the institute. 

Hiss was in charge of the autopsies of Palestinians when Bostrom was listening to the families’ claims in 1992. Hiss was subsequently investigated twice, in 2002 and 2005, over the theft of body parts on a large scale. 

Allegations of Hiss’ illegal trade in organs was first revealed in 2000 by investigative reporters at the Yediot Aharonot newspaper, which reported that he had “price listings” for body parts and that he sold mainly to Israeli universities and medical schools. [6]

Apparently undeterred by these revelations, Hiss still had an array of body parts in his possession at Abu Kabir when the Israeli courts ordered a search in 2002. Israel National News reported at the time: “Over the past years, heads of the institute appear to have given thousands of organs for research without permission, while maintaining a ‘storehouse’ of organs at Abu Kabir.” [7]

Hiss did not deny the plunder of organs, admitting that the body parts belonged to soldiers killed in action and had been passed to medical institutes and hospitals in the interests of advancing research. Understandably, however, the Palestinian families are unlikely to be satisfied with Hiss’ explanation. If the wishes of a soldier’s familiy were disregarded by Hiss, why not Palestinian families’ wishes too?

Hiss was allowed to continue as director of Abu Kabir until 2005 when allegations of a trade in organs surfaced again. On this occasion Hiss admitted to having removed parts from 125 bodies without authorisation. Following a plea bargain with the state, the attorney general decided not to press criminal charges and Hiss was given only a reprimand. [8] He has continued as chief pathologist at Abu Kabir.

It should also be noted, as Bostrom points out, that in the early 1990s Israel was suffering from an acute shortage of organ donors to the extent that Ehud Olmert, health minister at the time, launched a public campaign to encourage Israelis to come forward. 

This offers a possible explanation for Hiss’ actions. He may have acted to help make up the shortfall. 

Given the facts that are known, there must be at least a very strong suspicion that Hiss removed organs without authorisation from some Palestinians he autopsied. Both this issue, and the army’s possible role in supplying him with corpses, needs investigation.

Hiss is also implicated in another long-running and unresolved scandal from Israel’s early years, in the 1950s, when the children of recent Jewish immigrants to Israel from Yemen were adopted by Ashkenazi couples after the Yeminite parents had been told that their child had died, [9] usually after admission to hospital……”

read entire article

See also:
The New “Blood Libel”? Israeli Organ Harvesting
By ALISON WEIR  http://www.counterpunch.org/weir08282009.html

this story has a long history! 

Dj Shadow – Organ Donor

Från Konfliktportalen.se:Jesper skriver Stadsdelskamp och musikfest i rosengård, Lukas skriver Staten och HBT-personer, Kristoffer Ejnermark skriver Marx värdeteori och den temporala enkelsystemstolkningen (Andrew Kliman), Fredrik Jönsson skriver Reclaim Rosengård 22.8 20.00

TOKYO, Japan – One of the stories that have most affected us in the Tokyo bureau has been the trials of Japanese families trying to get life saving organ transplants for their children.

We have spoken to several such families, and profiled two of them. In both cases, the emotions involved are some of the most intense I have been through at this job.

These are parents fighting for, and sometimes losing, the lives of their children. But what is most striking is not the tragedy, it is the strength and determination of these families.

Just a few weeks ago, we had done a story about Japan’s organ transplant law and its effects on families whose children need a transplant to survive.

The law required donors to have provided written consent, and prohibited those younger than 15 years old from donating organs.

With next to no donors under 15, many Japanese families with children in need of transplants were forced to go abroad, in many cases in order to keep their children alive.

What’s more, the costs of doing so are exorbitant, at times between $1 million and $2 million dollars. Of course, very few families can afford to pay that much, so a system sprang up where those who had been through the process taught other families the best ways to raise donations.

They sought donations in the streets, in Japanese media, and on the Internet.

In our original report, we followed the family of 11-year-old Hiroki Ando, who suffered from cardiomyopathy. His doctors told him he needed a transplant in order to survive.

Hiroki’s parents had already lost one child who had the same condition, and they were determined to do everything they could to keep Hiroki alive. Read the story

This week, Japan’s parliament voted to change the organ transplant law.

The law is complex, and the central change is that now death for the purposes of organ donation would be brain death, not the stopping of the heart. Though it won’t take effect for a year, the new law will make it easier for children to receive donations at home in Japan.

We visited the Nakazawa family, who had campaigned to have the law changed. Their interest could hardly be more personal, as they had lost their 16-month old son Soutaro last December. He died in a hospital in California after they had managed to raise the 1.7 million dollars needed.

Doctors asked them why the Japanese children who came for transplants always arrived so late. Anyone who has lost a family member knows the depth of grief that can bring. In their case, it seemed unusually cruel, after they had gone to such lengths to raise the money and gone so far to save their son.

It would be natural, I think, for the Nakazawas to avoid reminders of Soutaro just to manage their grief. But when we walked into their apartment in Yokohama, it was like a shrine to their lost son.

His pictures filled three walls of the living room, along with his toys and other reminders.

Namie, Soutaro’s mother, said they couldn’t hide from their grief because they owed a debt to all those who had helped them raise the funds for his operation. With tears in her eyes she said she had thought the only way to repay them was to bring Soutaro home healthy but that was impossible.

So she and her husband, Keiichiro, devoted themselves to getting the transplant law changed. They were in parliament when the result was announced, and they both broke down.

Keiichiro told us Soutaro had shown them the path, and he was constantly with them.

As for Hiroki, he is in a hospital in New York, where he has had the transplant operation. Though the recovery is filled with risks, his parents say he is doing well.

Why Would The Republicans Refuse to Pass 63 of Their Own Amendments? Gheez Louise a stalling tactic, because of course a Government Plan is going to cause us all to DIEEEEE, so they must stall that plan to get through Committees! Please someone whom is close to this 27% of the Voters HELP THEM, it’s quite embarrassing to watch such atrocities go on and on by these Simpletons

Interesting Idea. Never thought about it before. I think its a good idea as long as the inmate chooses to give the organs. In the future that might be an issue. But its a good point.

Kidneys Online

Turning to the Internet—and the Kindness of Strangers—Has Helped Dozens in Need of Organs Gain a New Lease on Life

For weeks Rahwa Daniel counted the numbers until her new kidney arrived: eight more dialysis sessions, 12 more pills to swallow, three more days of nausea and fatigue. Diagnosed with kidney failure two years ago, the pain and uncertainty of emergency room visits and thrice-weekly blood-cleansing appointments were taking their toll. “I’m weak and tired a lot,” the 22-year-old Texan said. “I don’t know that I could emotionally handle feeling bad for more years.”

Soon she wouldn’t have to. One of 95,000 people who may have to wait as long as 10 years for a new kidney via the federal government’s United Network for Organ Sharing (UNOS) list, Daniel found a new organ in an unconventional way: She went online. MatchingDonors.com, a two-year-old nonprofit Web site…. read entire article from People Magazine… http://www.people.com/people/archive/article/0,,20061643,00.html

On Friday, April 17, supporters and advocates nationwide will be taking part in a easy online effort to call attention to the critical importance of organ and tissue donation.

Participants will be replacing their current Facebook or MySpace photo with one of our “I Heart Organ Donors” badges. In addition,  supporters will be updating their status on either social networking site with a message that calls attention to April as National Donate Life Month and provides a link to www.ShareYourLife.org for others to quickly find out how to register in their state.

If you’re on Facebook, be sure to join our event for this big day and invite everyone you know to partake as well! Already, over 1,000 people have agree to participate and many are taking early action to spread the word to friends via status updates.

Also, if you’re in Chicago, be sure to keep an eye on NBC 5 tomorrow morning as we’ll have Morgan D’ Organ and some brave early morning volunteers joining us at the plaza to hopefully get on the news…and maybe do a lil’ dance!

-Scott

Today, in case you didn’t know (I didn’t) is World Kidney Day.

Kidney disease affects more than 500 million people worldwide, or 10 per cent of the adult population. With more people developing high blood pressure and diabetes (key risks for kidney disease) this picture will only worsen.

There are nearly two million new cases of the most serious form of kidney disease – renal failure – each year.   Unless patients with renal failure receive a kidney transplant or undergo dialysis – an expensive lifelong procedure that cleanses the blood of toxins – death is inevitable within a few weeks.

Many experts in the field are now urging that people be able to sell their kidneys because many people don’t want to give them away free.  Otherwise, thousands of patients will die each year for want of a kidney;  and there will be a human rights disaster because kidneys will be bought and sold unscrupulously in the black market which exists now in the nertherworlds of China, Pakistan, Egypt, Columbia and Eastern Europe.  The truth is trafficking will disappear only when the need for organs disappears.

One remedy to this corrupt and unregulated system of exchange would be a regulated and transparent regime devoted to donor protection.

Many people are uneasy about offering lump-sum cash payments.  A solution is to provide in-kind rewards – such as a down payment on a house, a contribution to a retirment fund or lifetime health insurance.  Also a system in which compensation is provided by a third party (government, a charity or insurance) with public oversight.  Because bidding and private buying would not be permitted, available organs would be distributed to the next in line – not just the wealthy.

The only way to stop illicit markets is to create legal ones.

Do you agree?

Do you know anyone who has a kidney or other disease that was reversed by a donated organ?

Do you know anyone who has signed their driver’s license permitting their organs to be donated right after their deaths.

Should organ donors be compensated in some way.

What do you think?

After a series of frustrating phone tag calls, I finally managed to schedule an appointment with the kidney transplant team.  Although my mother wanted to fly to New York to accompany me to the meetings, I told her to not to, as I figured they couldn’t be all that different from what I’d already sat through with my father.

Instead, a good friend of mine accompanied me back to the transplant office for my evaluation.  Again, I met with my father’s surgeon.  He didn’t recall having met me before, even though he’d been the one responsible for suggesting that I hand off my kidney in the first place.  He went through the basics with me about what I should expect from my end of the donation.

According to the surgeon:

There would be three incision points.  Two laproscopic holes – one in my bellybutton and one to the side of my bellybutton, each a couple of centimeters long.  And another longer incision that resembled a C-section scar, about 2-3 inches long.

My recovery time would be 1-2 weeks long.  The first few days I wouldn’t be able to care for myself and then after that, I’d slowly but surely return to normal.

Nothing about my reguarly scheduled life would need to change post-surgery.  No differences in what I eat or drink.  The only things I’d need to refrain from are contact sports like boxing or football.  Which for me personally is no problem at all.

A kidney donation would have no effect on a future pregnancy, except that I would be treated as a high risk.

After that, I met with the nutrionist, the financial guy and the social worker, all of whom told me exactly what I’d heard the first time round.  A nurse came and drew another 12, yes, 12 vials of blood.  And they informed me that I’d soon be receiving a present in the mail.  A big jug that would need to be filled for 24 hours for a urinanalysis test.  Oh joy.

After those meetings, I was directed to the sub=basement of the hospital (generally known as the area where the morgue tends to be), which also happens to be the home of Mt. Sinai’s radiation unit.  There, I waited about an hour before being taken in for kidney x-rays (at least, I think that’s what they were).  While there, I got into a conversation with the lab tech doing my scan.  When he heard why I was being tested, he shared with me that his father had had two kidney donations before he passed away.  The tech hadn’t been old enough at the time to donate a kidney of his own.  And he wished he’d been able to.  His story helped immensely in getting me through that day.  I wish I knew who he was to thank him for it.

After the x-rays, I was directed to a second building for EKG tests.  They dropped me onto a table, plugged a bunch of metal stick=ems all over me and took whatever it is that an EKG takes note of.  Again, when the woman doing the tests heard why I was in the room, she began crying and made sure to tell me what a good girl I was.  After that, the tests were done for the day, so I headed home.

A few days later, I received a bright orange jug in the mail with instructions that I needed to fill it before coming back for another round of tests.  Out of all of the unpleasant parts of donating a kidney, this was for me the absolute worst.   A 24-hour urinanalysis needs to be done right before you return the jug to the doctor’s office.  My next round of tests was scheduled for a weekday.  Which meant I had to carry my bright orange jug full of pee on the subway, around my office and through the streets of New York for a full 24 hours. I grabbed the biggest shopping bag I could find and dropped the bottle in.  And for 24 hours, I played a game of “Hey, look over there” with my co-workers and friends as I filled the jug.  When I turned that thing into the hospital, I couldn’t have been happier.

The final round of testings happened the same day that I dropped off the jug.  I returned to the morgue/radiation unit for an ultrasound of my kidneys.  As no one on the transplant team bothered to give me the correct information for what not to do, there was a moment of panic as the ultrasound people learned that I’d ingested half a Frappuchino the morning of the tests.  Side note – an ultrasound can absolutely be performed on someone with a stomach full of Frappuchino.  They just don’t like doing it.

I was taken even further into the subbasement where they brought me into a darkened room for the ultrasound.  Now, even though I’m not at a place where children are an option for me, I found it a bit unfair that my first experience with an ultrasound produced no miraculous baby floating on the screen.  Instead, after the cold stomach gel and the roller ball, I saw a bunch of fuzzy pictures of my kidney.  Aw, isn’t it cute?

After the ultrasound, I went to yet another floor of the hospital for a CAT scan.  They hooked me up to an IV and put me on a stretcher that dropped me into a machine that looks exactly like the ones on “House” and “ER” and every other medical show you’ve ever seen.  The IV was put to use when they injected dye into my system with the warning, “If you start to feel a tingling or burning sensation, let us know.”  Oh believe me, they would’ve known.  Instead, it felt like ice water being shot into my veins.  I closed my eyes and kept them closed as I waited for the test to be finished.  I think it took about 10 minutes, although time moves slower when you’re trapped in a big tube.  When it was over, they pulled me out and told me to drink lots of fluid, because having dye in your system apparently isn’t good for you.  Who knew?

I returned to work after the testing and managed to struggle through the day, exhausted but relieved to be finished.

A few weeks later, I again was forced to call the transplant team for my results. (Another side note- the MOST frustrating aspect of this experience.  The fact that I was lost in the computer system and therefore was treated as a new patient every single time I called the office).  I was informed there was a problem with my urinanalysis test.  Of course there was.  I ended up having to spend another day dragging a jug of pee around the city.  But this time it took.  And I was cleared to give my dad a kidney.

In advance of Keep Bournemouth Tidy at the Opera House this Friday I’ve interviewed a few of the DJs who will be playing.  Check out the Frenzy website for new interviews with Kym Ayres, the Organ Donors, and Caz Wood.  Tell me what you think.

Power to the People

I don’t want to get into a debate as to the rights and wrongs of whether people should agree to donate their organs, although I am willing to state, for the record, that I support the organ donor programme. What concerns me is when government, in spite of advice to the contrary, determines that it knows best.

The UK Organ Donation Taskforce have stated that they do not believe that ‘presumed consent’ would boost organ donation rates. In fact chair of the taskforce, Elisabeth Buggins said: “We found from recipient families and donor families that the concept of gift was very important to them and presumed consent would undermine that concept.” This was not what the government wanted to hear and Alan Johnson was said to be disappointed by their findings, Gordon Brown was a little more forthright. He has threatened, that if the current recruitment campaign is not successful, he would not rule our a change of the law to provide for presumed consent.

Just who the hell does Gordon Brown think he is? He has no right to determine that he knows better than 65m people. For some, the desecration of the body of a loved one would only add to the suffering and for others, they may see organ donation as a positive consequence of a tragic circumstance. Either way, the choice cannot be the governments, they do not own us, nor do they own our bodies. This is yet another example of Big Brother Britain, another way in which the state tells us who is in charge and how little control we have over our own lives.

As we all know, this government cannot be trusted to keep its word, whatever assurances they may provide in public regarding presumed consent, we just know the small print will provide them with the real power. For example, the government may and probably will state that relatives must be able to provide demonstrable proof that a loved one did not want their organs to be donated, otherwise presumed consent would apply. If they don’t do this, then there is a very real possibility that the government will have to defend thousands of legal actions from relatives that are not willing to see the bodies of their loved ones desecrated on the whim of a doctor.

I do not believe the answer lies with legislation. Instead, the poor organ donor rates are as a direct consequence of poor advertising and recruitment campaigns. For example, press and TV advertising, whilst expensive, does not have a call to action, it only imparts information. What is needed is a programme that creates debate, for example but not exclusively, educating children at school, not in a negative way, but in a positive, uplifting manner, because this would encourage children to discuss the issue with their parents and then families can determine how they feel about this emotive issue.

Once governments start to legislate on such emotional issues, there will be a backlash, the negative connotations surrounding of organ donor-ship will come to the fore, people will resist and the programme will fail miserably. I can tell you for nothing, that if the government bring in presumed consent, then I will personally opt out, because I will not be dictated to by a government that is so willing to disregard my right to choose. This is the thin edge of the wedge, it really is, what is to stop the government to determine that we must all, for example give blood? Giving blood is an excellent and commendable contribution made by individuals but it is voluntary, there is also a shortage of blood, what is to stop the government from introducing legislation requiring everyone to donate blood, for example, twice a year? Answer, nothing.

As I stated at the outset, this has nothing to do with whether or not organ donation is a good or a bad thing, it is about our right to choose. No government should introduce legislation that removes that fundamental right. This government has consistently driven through legislation that has eroded, removed or virtually destroyed our civil liberties, our freedoms and our right to privacy and they have been allowed to do so, by an incapable opposition party and complacent people. Bouyed by this, the government now threatens to demonstrate how we have all sleep walked into Big Brother Britain, by introducing legislation that will confirm, that not only does the government control everything we do, say, think and write in life, they now control our bodies after death.

…after I spotted it a couple of days ago, at least someone has had the sense to post about it.

David Davis

A Human Being’s body is surely His own. If not, then it is someone else’s by inference: property rights in it can’t be defined in a rightless void. Then, when they can, that means His rights in it exist. That means the human concerned can assign or dispose of it as HE wishes and NOT as someone else does…..

…..And:-

No: I am NOT EVER going to do the “he/she” Marxist nonsense on here any more, I have DECIDED, so people had better get used to that from now on. Human beings are to be described as Men, Man does things and stuff, a child owns HIS body etc etc etc. Of course we venerate women: we would not exist otherwise, so smoke that, for a change, you lefty Feminazi inclusive outreach multiculti Nazi oafs.)

If we could not state the proper disposal of our bodies, then our bodies must therefore belong to someone else. That of course cannot be. Unless the socialists come out in the open and say so. I wonder if they will?

I wonder what he’d have thought about it? Would he prefer a face-transplant, often carried out one-way-only by the Sendero Luminoso, without anaesthetics – as the wicked capitalist runnig-dog companies of the Boss Class would not send any – or just a simple skull-transplant….

That

Once I’d been cleared to donate a kidney to my dad, the only thing left to do was schedule the actual surgery.  My father had had several other health problems during the summer.  Out of a need to be closer to the hospitals and kidney team, my parents moved from Florida to Hoboken, which meant that the surgery could be scheduled at any time.  My last round of tests was finished by early August.  We decided to schedule the surgery for Labor Day.

I prepared myself mentally as best I could.  I had a two-week, non-stop activity-athon with friends who were  supportive and helpful far beyond the call of duty.  I even scheduled a goodbye party for my kidney to be held the weekend before the surgery.  I had a list of questions to ask the surgeons before we went under the knife – important questions like “Is it okay to wear cute pajamas in the hospital” and “Can I bring a laptop with me”.

But unfortunately, sometimes life gets in the way of the plans we make.  A few days before the surgery, my father went to his cardiologist for a pre-surgery check-up and it was discovered that on one of his previous visits to the hospital, he’d suffered a small heart attack.  As the kidney team repeatedly told both my parents and me, they could not do the surgery if any other health problems appeared in either the donor or recipient.  My father’s heart needed to be attended to before the kidney transplant could happen.  And just like that, the surgery was postponed.

We had a long wait as my father went through a heart operation and recovery process.  It was almost three months later that we were able to reschedule the surgery for the beginning of December.  The process happened much faster this time.  I had only two weeks to prepare.  Once again, I informed my bosses, let my friends know, rescheduled my kidney party.  And then we learned that the paperwork from my father’s cardiologist hadn’t gone through to the kidney team in time.  And the operation was pushed back another week.  Which meant another round of apologizing to people for crying wolf.

Finally, finally, finally, we were able to schedule the surgery for Dec. 9, 2008.  A few days before, my dad and I went back into the hospital for a final round of tests called a cross-match.  We were shown pictures of my kidneys taken from the CAT scan.  My kidneys are small (which makes sense, as I’m a small person), but perfectly shaped.  My dad’s surgeon, who once again couldn’t recall having ever met me, told us how the surgery would happen.  Went over my dad’s charts one last time.  Had us draw another 12, yes, 12 vials of blood.  And that was that.

After, we met with the anesthesiologist who asked a few questions about my medical history before sending me on my way, the admin people who asked a few questions about both my father and my medical history before sending us on our way and my surgeon.  This was the first time I’d met with a doctor whose sole concern was me, not my father.  It was a huge relief to talk to someone focused on my well-being and my surgeon was completely capable and confident and made me feel 20 times better about the entire process.

In the meeting with my surgeon, some facts changed.  According to him, my recovery would be closer to 2-3 weeks, not 1-2.  A pregnancy post-surgery would not be considered high risk immediately.  It’s just necessary to inform a doctor of the situation.  There would not be 3 holes as initially promised.  There would be 6 – 5 laproscopic and the big one.  A risk of high blood pressure was added to the list of potential problems.  And I was informed that because of my donation, should I ever need a transplant myself, my name would immediately be pushed to the top of the list.

Once those meetings were over, all that was left to do was the actual transfer of the kidney.

I spent the night before the transplant having dinner with a few friends and then staying in a hotel room with my parents.  As we needed to be at the hospital by 5:30 in the morning, the hotel stay seemed the best option and the hotel was nice enough to give my parents a suite once they’d heard about the reason for our stay.  Giving away a kidney does have its benefits.

Around 4 in the morning the day of the surgery, I began to panic for the first time.  Up to that point, I’d been strangely calm about the whole situation.  Besides looking at the really unpleasant pictures of transplant scars, I’d managed to avoid considering the problems that could occur post-surgery and my denial had enabled me to soldier on through the process.  But that morning, I began to think about how the surgeons had changed their wording of my post-surgery state from “feeling some discomfort” to “it’s gonna hurt.”  And how I could be endangering my health by leaving myself with only one kidney to work with.  When I shared my fears with my parents, they repeated for the umpteenth time that I’d been very brave, but was in no way required to go through with the surgery.  For some reason, this knocked some sense into me.  Still scared, I sucked it up, got dressed and we headed to the hospital.

We checked in around 5:30 in the morning.  We sat through a quick, final round of paper work before my dad was ushered into one room and I was pushed into another.  I was given a hospital gown and some socks (neither of which were changed until three days later).  They ONCE AGAIN drew some blood and forced me to pee into a cup, even though I had no pee to give.  They explained that the final urine test was to check for pregnancy.  I tried to assure the nurses that there was really no risk of a pregnancy in current state.  As the staff didn’t seem to care much about my love life, they forced me to take the test anyway.

After that, my mother and I sat in my father’s room while they performed similar tests on him.  And it wasn’t long before a nurse came into the room to take me to surgery.  I was taken into the final waiting room around 8 in the morning.  The nurse walked me through a room full of people on gurneys in hospital gowns.  I was seated at the end of the room across from a very nice gentleman who obviously saw how scared I was.  He tried to say hello, but was soon overwhelmed by doctors preparing him for his own surgery.

It wasn’t long before a surgical resident came to my gurney to keep me company.  She informed me that she would be holding the camera for my surgeon.  She was clearly enthusiastic about seeing what she called “a really complicated procedure”.  I tried to make conversation, which led to an unfortunate incident where she described how cool it is to watch them move the bowels around to get to the kidney.  This did not ease my fears.  She did, however, tell me to stop panicking about the episode of “Nip/Tuck” where the woman woke up in the middle of a surgery and felt everything.  This apparently doesn’t happen much in real life.

The resident was joined by the anesthesiologist, who immediately began hooking me up with several rather painful IVs and who did not appreciate my attempts to joke with him.  Then he was joined by my surgeon and another anesthesiologist, who thought it would be a good thing to describe the operation in terms of “stab wounds.”  Side note – It is NEVER a good idea to describe something in terms of stab wounds.

With that wonderful thought in my head, the anesthesiologist started flooding my system with water.  They wheeled the gurney over to my dad, who had just been brought into the room himself.  We said goodbye and then I was being wheeled down the hall towards surgery.  And although the anesthesiologist may not have had a sense of humor, he sure knew how to do his job.  We weren’t even halfway down the hall before I was out like a light.  I didn’t even get to count backwards.  I think I was asleep by about 8:30.

As I was asleep, I don’t really know what happened between the hours of 8:30 and 12.  But I’ve been told it went something like this.  They rolled me on my side.  Instead of the two small and one big incisions I’d originally been promised, the surgeon made 5 small and one big incision to remove the kidney.  Thanks to modern technology, the incisions no longer involve any cutting into the side or back of the patient.  My dad was taken into surgery around 9, I think.  Although it seems like there should be some massive process regarding the transportation of the organ, the kidney was removed from me by my surgeon and directly handed off to my dad’s surgeon.  My dad’s surgeon then walked the organ over to my dad’s room and placed it in my father.  He did not remove either of my dad’s failed kidneys.  Instead, the new one was placed on the right side of my dad’s pelvic area. The unplugged the necessary veins and arteries from one of the old kidneys, plugged them into the new one and that was that.  Very similar process to plugging in a new car engine, or so I’ve been told.  My operation was finished around 12 and my dad’s shortly after.

Now the details get fuzzy for me.  I vaguely remember waking up in the recovery room.  The anesthesiologist handed me a button attached to a morphine drip which he introduced as my new best friend.  Then I don’t remember much.  I woke up again to my mother asking if my mouth was dry.  I remember her mopping my lips down with something before I passed out again.  Woke up again to see both of my aunts standing over me.  I was just aware enough to order one of them to stop crying and then I passed out again.  I woke up one final time as they began to wheel me into my permanent hospital room.  They took me past my dad, who looked just as groggy as I did. We exchanged “I love yous” before I passed out again.