I think the last post by Shoshana also deserves to be a “Post of the Week”!
Let me tell you about something that is very, very important to me. My Dad had a kidney transplant. It was in 2007 , and I was just 6. But, the whole thing started in December of 2005, when was 4. Back then, my Dad had been attached to an IV pole, and a dialysis machine, both of which would hold the heavy medicine bags. I remember that wherever he went, he would have to take it with him. Every month, we would have a truck deliver 1500 pounds of medicine! It would fill up a whole room! Now, it was the most trouble when we went on trips. Once, when we went to Disney World, my Dad had to bring that big thing and boxes of medicine with him the WHOLE trip!

Here’s the good part. In 2007, my Dad was just about to take me and my two brothers to school. We were all ready. Then, my Mom got a call from the Mayo Clinic.She called to tell us. The doctor told her to go to the clinic imidiately, because they had a kidney for my Dad. We were so excited! Then my Mom came running home. We then got in the car, and flew straight to the clinic. We had to wait a day to figure out if it was a good match. during that day, my Dad had to eat, sleep, and baiscly LIVE there! My Mom would stay with him every day and night. Me and my brothers would stay at our grandparents house. But we would still visit them every day. Whenever we could, me and my Dad would take a walk around the clinic, just for something to do, because he usually wouldn’t be allowed to get up. I remember when we would all go down to the cafeteria for lunch, even if the food wasn’t good. I think that I knew my way all around there by then!

When my Dad was done with his surgery, we were all crying tears of joy. My Dad got to pick if he kept the IV pole and dialysis machine attached to him, or if he wanted to have a kidney transplant and take medicine for the rest of his life. Of course no one wants a big pole attached to them for the rest of their life. No one wants to take medicine their whole life either. But, of course my Dad picked to take the medicine and have the surgery. Ever since then, my Dad has to take medicine twice a day. Even though the medicine is really expensive, it is better than the machine, and it works out great. If I were my Dad, I would be so scared. I think that I have the most brave Dad in the whole world! I love my Dad. To me, that was the worst thing that ever happened in my family. I feel so bad for him, but even before my Dad’s transplant, he would say, “Every day is an adventure!”.