Kidney Talk: Getting my house ready for the homecoming | Poem: My Third Kidney

Hello tiny purple crocus. I love the abstract nature of this shot. Nature is the father of art.

Who are we kidding? The time is getting close. Bill Kulik, my gray-haired pony-tailed poetry teacher at Cheltenham High School Evening School, asked me, Are you scared?

Scared only of what the antirejection drugs might do to me. Ah, how my immune system has protected me over these past wonderful 65 years.

Just called up the Thomas E Starzl Transplantation Center in Pittsburgh and spoke to nurse Maureen. In the Puzzle People by Starzl he mentions the possibility of eventually discontinuing the pills.

Maureen told me this was tried but did not succeed. Thank you, Maureen. I needed to hear this. However, she did mention that some people get tired of taking the meds and take themselves off. If their donor match has 6 antigens, they can take less medication.

I have no idea what our match is. As I've said before, I majored in manic-depression, not kidney disease, so I have to create a new space in my brain for this information.

Actually my brain is working at a mighty clip. I ran one of my Self-Esteem/Goal Groups last nite and emailed the group the notes. I'd jotted things down on a pad but didn't need to consult it while composing the email.

I remember my former mentor psychiatrist Norman Lamonsoff at Bristol-Bensalem Human Services told me he could dictate a psych eval w/o looking at his notes.

Jeff and John came out to replace my cracked laundry room floor with indoor-outdoor carpet.

The owner of Specialty Flooring in Roslyn asked me what color my walls were. I said I had no idea. I never pay any attn when I go into the room.

Here's the new brown carpet which is warm on the feet unlike the cold linoleum. Doug and Gerry, who both sold it to me, said they installed the same carpet at one of the entrances to the Willow Grove mall.

When I get my t'plant, they will not remove my own kidneys which continue to filter at 12 - 16 percent efficiency, the little darlings.

I help them along by sticking to my diet: low potassium, sodium, phosphorus, protein, tho I'm eating a chicken sandwich right now. I gave up meat.

There are exceptions of course, like this fantastic tongue sandwich I made. Jews love tongue. Gentiles gag at the thot. Off to the death camps, cutie.

MY THIRD KIDNEY

the furious torrent
like summer rains
lessens
a drought in the
sunny sahara
tongueless
skulls
reflect the sky
but i
shall be saved
and pat my belly
where my rusty pair of
kidneys
still squeeze drops
from stone
still pump the soundless
rivers of blood
round and round
this old mother
like the grand mississippi
if it weren’t for voodoo potions
called pills
my inner channels
would laden be
with silt and rocks
too heavy to carry
and i quicker still
would rush headlong into
eternity’s sacred path
but for my daughter
my saviour
who once i carried on my hip
and watched her blue eyes turn
to brown and huge
will pass unto me
one of her sacred twins
thirty-seven years of
vibrant pissing
expert
flawless
will now come back home
brave ulysses bound for his own penelope
restless, he will grow to like
his strange new home
i will pour libations
through his tender
vessels
every morsel i eat
dedicated to his glory
together we shall marvel at
the first daffodil poking her
head in the garden
just the three of us
strolling in my garden in
my white bridal gown.