The Gift

The Gift

20,19,18,17,16,15,14,13 the numbers began to slur 12 came in slowly 11 was a whisper.

Flashes of time crossed my mind. Christmas was just a few days behind us, and lights were still hard at work reminding us that the joy of the season was still with us. What I was dreading about the holidays was that for the first time, I was flying. Flying any other time of the year was no problem for me. Traveling during the Christmas holiday was never something I would consider. You could always count on a news story about the cancelled flights and weather delays. The networks would show the ridiculously long lines at the airport check in areas. Then of course the scene of the masses, reluctantly taking off their shoes and shoving things into a backpack while searching for the next available bin to put their stuff in. The highlight of the news story is the traveler they would choose to interview. This wasn’t a single traveler on their way to a simple destination, ticket in hand and ready to go. Oh no, they would find some poor women traveling with 3 or 4 kids and a husband trying desperately to collapse the stroller, while having a heated conversation with the ticketing agent. Or beating up the electronic check in system because it will not release the tickets although he claims to have given the system all the correct answers. The lady always has a smile on her face as did her kids. They would hang onto their Winnie the Pooh and Spiderman suitcases which I am quite certain held a few favorite toys as they were not big enough to carry any clothes. I would watch this display of utter chaos and shake my head saying, why do people do this to themselves? I know it’s Christmas and everything and maybe they want to be with family that they have not seen all year or share the new baby with Grandma and Grandpa, but why not leave before Christmas or maybe wait until after the new year, when things have settled and life is a little less hectic? I guess everyone traveling at this time has some strong reason, family, friends, loved ones. Maybe for a sad reason like a funeral or maybe they are trying to get away from it all and go on vacation, so they won’t be alone for the holidays. I mean for goodness sakes you must have a good reason to travel during this time of year, why else would anyone put up with this mass of confusion? After years of saying I will never fly during the forbidden holiday season here I am getting on a plane. For the record, getting through the whole ordeal, lacks all that Christmas stands for. No peace, no joy!

I sat next to a very unhappy baby on the plane. A baby with an endless number of tears and she seemed determined to shed as many as possible before the plane landed. Her mom who seemed far too young to have a child, tried her best to relieve the little girl’s sadness or maybe it was the anxiety of being off schedule and forced to take an airplane ride. I wasn’t quite sure which was the culprit of such distress, but whatever it was, it was serious to her. Her mom began engaging her in a game of peek a boo followed by some kind of baby cooing which seem to make her even more agitated. She tried several of the toys she had packed revealing each one of them to her like a surprise or some kind of amazing magic trick. She tried to give her, what I guess she thought was her favorite snack. I was unfortunate enough to experience the soaked clumps of goldfish as she spat them out in my direction speckling my already speckled Christmas sweater, which now looks like orange lights over the giant tree covering my chest. Then I noticed her drink, it was cherry, which brought quiet the little panic to my eyes as I had nothing to shield the spray if it should come my way. The snack and drink came and went with no success. The little girl had the biggest saddest brown eyes I had ever seen. She would show them to me now and then when she would take the intermittent moment of hard sobs and quick short breaths that seem to control her little shoulders bobbing up and down. It’s funny how kids do that when they are sobbing like their life depends on it and then a little subtle distraction halts the tears, and sad water filled eyes and wet cheeks become still, breathing returns to normal and even the sniffling seems to be better controlled. At least until they have realized that what halted their stress is no longer of interest. Then it’s back to being unconsolable. She looked at me for the third time. This time we caught each other’s eyes. There was a moment of silence. No tears, no heavy breathing, no fuss. Just our eyes connecting. I gave her one of my no teeth, straight lipped crooked smile, with a head tilt. Her face was frozen in place with little too no expression. She seemed like she was looking at me to gain fuel for the next go round of tears. I tried my usual stranger baby talk which never really seemed effective in happy children that I met, so I was pretty sure my efforts would fall short of relief for her, I tried anyway. I was able to get a toothless smile and to my surprise her name. I am far from an expert at baby talk, but I think she said Kayla or maybe Kara or Sara? I was so happy that I got a smile out of her let alone her name. My baby translator skills were caught off guard. So, I said the usual “What a pretty name”, then continued to call her “Sweet girl.”

I heard a very calm whisper in my left ear, “Nice Try”. I wasn’t sure if it came from the seat behind me or beside me. My mind was registering what a nice voice and the words were lingering in a warm woodsy scent. I was almost afraid to turn around. I pretended to adjust my seatbelt and my bag under my seat while looking back hoping to catch a glimpse of the vision behind the voice, through the crack between the seat. Unfortunately, I saw a blond-haired teenaged boy immersed in his phone, sporting a pair of expensive headphones that occupied his ears, so he was oblivious to the little girl. There was only one other place the voice could have come from. Could I possibly be sitting next to someone and not just someone but a man with such a nice voice and why had I not smelled the delicious scent until now. Wait a minute I am in a middle seat. The crying baby is expected, a handsome man that really smells delicious would be a delayed Christmas present. Thank God I am on a wide body aircraft so it’s a row of 4 which gives me a bit more room, but I am still in a middle seat, am I dreaming?

I know, who books themselves on a flight during the holidays in a middle seat? Yep, I was stunned to, you see this was a last-minute flight. I got the call that I had been waiting the past 373 days to receive.The call came just before Christmas, so I made a very last-minute reservation to fly out today and I must arrive at my destination tonight. Last-minute flights during the holidays puts you in a middle seat. Honestly when I made the reservation, I was so happy to be able to get on a flight that I forgot to look at the seat selection. I typically search the high heavens for an aisle seat and if not, the last resort, I choose a window seat. As I said this was a last-minute urgent flight and there was no time to negotiate over a seat. I knew I was in for it as I looked at my ticket just before boarding and realized OH! NO! a middle seat! I quickly jumped out of line to talk to the attendant at the desk. Is there any other seat I pathetically asked. I think most would say, I was whining. Of course, my other issue is I am somewhat claustrophobic and sitting beyond row 15 gives me the feeling of entering a tube that I am unable to get out of. I would end up spending the rest of the fight in a cold sweat feeling like I can’t get enough oxygen wanting nothing more than to jump out of the plane so I could breath. I was willing to chance as far back a row 18 as the misery of my assigned middle seat was beginning to overwhelm me. The attendant did not even pretend to look at the screen for another seat, she simply said sharply “no you got the last seat on the plane.” She did say there was another flight in the morning if I wanted to wait as they had plenty of people on standby who would love to take my seat. I knew my time was short and I had to get on this plane so I defeatedly got back in line and boarded the plane preparing myself for what my middle seat fate would bring. I knew that a middle seat would only bring a crying baby and shall I say, a not my type of man that will be wearing enough cologne to make me want to cry. As I think back now, everyone in my row was already in their seat when I arrived. The window seat passenger I noticed was a man, but his head was down as he was getting himself settled trying to carefully get his bag positioned under his seat. The mom who occupied the precious aisle seat was holding her expected crying baby.The seat next to hers was filled with a blanket a book and some odd shaped toys. My vacant middle seat seemed to be calling my name welcoming me to the crying baby and stinky man section and from my point of view it did not disappoint. The mom had to stand with the baby as I wedged myself passed her and plopped into my seat with just about all the frustration and lack of grace that I could muster. Digging for my seat belt and praying that the child was not going to be coughing and sniffling all over me. I buckled myself in and took hold of the gold cross that always accompanied me on flights and serious occasions. I clutched the cross in my hand and said a quick prayer. Father God, please give the pilot the skill and wisdom to take us to our destination safely. Although I am in a middle seat, I am grateful that I am on my way. May I be kind and gentle to those around me however challenging it may be. Amen. I crossed myself tucked my necklace inside my sweater and prepared for the 5-hour flight.

How could I have not seen him by now. I was so busy with the little fussy girl that I did not see the man I was sitting next to or smell him for that matter. Ok, time to take a look. Wait, what if he is good looking, ugh! What do I look like? Do I smell like goldfish? Maybe I can make my way to the bathroom, freshen up and then take a look. A confident smile came to my face. As I stood up, the dings started above our heads. Good evening, this is your Captain speaking we are approaching a bit of turbulence, so I have turned on the fasten your seat belt sign. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts as a precaution, until further notice. Thank you. The middle seat curse has struck again. I am still standing when the flight attendant passes me and ask me to please sit down. I gently sit down this time and noticed the little girl starring at me. Her red rimmed eyes and rosy nose still fighting the sniffles and now taking longer deeper breaths. She just stared at me with her little fist in her mouth. She seemed to say, I understand I wanna go too! I took a deep breath sat up straight in my seat and looked to my left. All I saw was a profile of a man with tanned smooth facial skin, gorgeous black wavy hair tamed but wavy enough to want to be a tad unruly. He was looking out of the window into the almost darkened sky. I wondered, what did he see, why is he traveling this holiday season? Is he alone? Is he going to meet someone, someone he loves or lost? Is he happy or is he looking out because he is sad? I notice my reflection in the window. Ugh! he sees me looking at him.I can’t turn away now, so I pretend I was looking out the window too. He turned to me with a straight lipped smile and tilted head. Our eyes met, my turn for a frozen face and a toothy smile which appeared before I could run my tongue across my teeth to be sure there was no lipstick on them. A few moments of uncomfortable silence and his soft voice appeared again. Hi, nice try with the little girl he said. The blood was back in my face again and I was able to blink. Thanks, was about all I could say at this point while delivering a more respectable smile. He offered me a hankie for my goldfish droppings. I thanked him again as I tried to remove the now dried orange speckles from my sweater. He started to chuckle a bit under his breath, and I quickly joined him. We talked the final few hours of the trip. Small talk really. I learned he was a medical doctor reporting to his fellowship program at his new hospital on January one. He was looking forward to it, but he was leaving his family and his girl behind. I had just completed a course called the art of conversation. It talked about being present and truly interested in those you are speaking with. It taught the art of asking questions. I practice this technique with him, and I must say it works. Not to mention you get to talk less about yourself. That’s a plus for me. We exchanged contact information and said we would keep in touch. Not sure if that will happen but he certainly was a pleasant surprise. The mom apologized to me and to my new friend and the sweet girl was happy to be getting off the plane. It was dark, although not late, as darkness seems to come early in the winter. I rushed pass the happy people hugging each other and squealing conversations with everyone talking at once. I headed out the baggage claim doors to find my car service; thankfully it was right in front. He knew exactly where I needed to go and what entrance to take me to. I knew we were 15 minutes away from the airport, so if I hustle, I will be right on time.

My pre-check began moments after I arrived and it was quick. I was glad to get to the hotel for some much-needed rest. My cut off time for food consumption was approaching and I was told to eat heartily. The hotel restaurant was still open so I ate before I headed to the room. I was scheduled to report back to the hospital at 6am. I left the hotel at 5am, it was only a mile and a half walk, so I walked over to clear my head and enjoy the fresh morning air. I met my coordinator who had been with me throughout my journey and now is like a sister to me. She spoke first, holding my hands as I laid on the table she whispered in my ear, don’t worry I will be here the whole time, I will tell you when all is well. You may not respond but you will hear me. I was asked to count down from 20,19, 11 was a whisper, 10 I think only I could hear, 9 was non-existent to me.

I was unsure about time until I heard the whisper in my left ear. The four-way donation procedure has been successful. Your brother has received his kidney from his donor in California and your kidney has been received by your recipient in Michigan. You are all doing just fine. Thank you.

I woke in recovery to the sound of cheers and clinking glasses the nurse beside me said, welcome back, all is well, HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I realized everyone has their reason for traveling through the holidays and there truly is peace and joy!

To living donors everywhere, Happy New Year! Life goes on!