birthday wish

birthday wish

Today is my 50th birthday.

A couple of weeks ago, I was lamenting my birthday’s approach because of its promise of middle-aged woman invisibility as punishment for graying hair and slowing metabolism. I managed to climb out of self-pitying funk long enough to eke out a “happy 50th birthday old man” wish to a Latino friend. His response: “Lol…Thank you. Crazy. Never thought I’d live past my 20s yet here I am.” And the next day George Floyd was murdered, just days after we learned about Breonna Taylor’s and Ahmaud Arbery’s murders. George was 46. Breonna was 26. Ahmaud was 25.

speaking up in the time of rona***

I spoke too soon.

Recently I posted on Twitter and FaceBook about feeling like I had found a non-confrontational way to appeal to folks to comply with wearing masks when we couldn’t be at least 6 feet apart. While a couple of people did kindly cover their mouth and nose with their t-shirt, there were at least a dozen more who just ignored me or rolled their eyes. I call these people selfish assholes.

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15 years and counting!

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15 years and counting!

Today marks Robert’s and my 15th anniversary for kidney transplant surgery. We continue to share two healthy kidneys between us.

Over the years, I’ve been called “selfless,” and even a “hero” for donating my kidney. While I understand that giving away a part of one’s body while alive seems unimaginable to many, each time my response has been an unwillingness to accept that what I did was “selfless” and definitely not heroic. Yes, I did welcome a certain amount of risk to improve someone’s life, but I got a lot in return: The joy of knowing I helped the love of my life be in his best possible health for 15 years and counting.

on being the only one like me

I am not a good tourist. I drove from North Carolina to California for my research year in medical school like it was a job. I drove 8 hours a day and spent the night in a hotel, not once deviating off the freeway to explore whatever sights. Every time I travel for a work meeting, I’m in and out of the city as quickly as possible, rarely having an inkling of regret for not having explored the city.

Yet when I was invited to speak at the Indian Society of Nephrology last year, I accepted. In part because the academic world I lived in at the time said I needed to have an “international presence” to advance my career. And also because they were flying me business class and paying me a little bit of money. Had it been coach and just for my CV, then somebody would have needed to explain to me, Why should I do this again? like I was “this many” years old.