7. Mazikeen #2
“May I speak with Mazikeen Phillips, please.” After I confirmed that I was her, she continued. “Ms. Phillips, I am Janice Dodds, the transplant coordinator with Queen City Medical Center. Before I continue, I need to go through the security protocol to verify your identity.”
I patiently answered the few security questions that she asked. After her last question, she went into the reason for the call. “Ms. Phillips, we may have a potential kidney available for you.”
When my back shot up from the mattress, I took the covers that covered Falcon and me, with me. My abrupt movement woke him. He sat up next to me with his eyes on me. He didn’t ask who it was. He just patiently waited.
May have a potential kidney. The structure of the sentence was meticulously formed. It gave you hope and disappointment at the same time. It held guarantee, but you never knew to which, the disappointment or the hope. “Okay, yes. What do I need to do?”
This was the first call for a potential donor that I had ever received.
There were days that I forgot that I was on the waiting list. The day that Falcon came to me and told me that he was tested but wasn’t a match, I was so mad.
I never wanted him to get tested because I never wanted the disappointment.
It was a two-fold disappointment. First, if he wasn’t a match.
The other was if he was a match, I would have denied his kidney.
“We need you to remain available,” Janice instructed. “The kidney is being evaluated as we speak. You are one of the primary candidates for the organ, so I need you to be prepared. Have you eaten or drank anything since midnight.”
I shook my head as if she could see me, then verbally responded. “I haven’t.” My voice cracked with every question she asked to verify if I had any changes to my recent health. There had been no changes, thank God.
It was important that I didn’t have any fevers or infections. I knew like she did that she knew these answers before she called me because she more than likely had my medical records in front of her. The fever was probably the only variant that she may not have known about.
“Okay, Ms. Phillips. I need you to not eat or drink anything. Make sure you have a bag packed with your medications and identification. I’ll call you as soon as I know something,” she informed me.
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll be ready.” That was all I knew to say. The sound of my heartbeat was loud in my ear.
She had disconnected the line, but I still held the phone to my ear. I sat frozen in time for a second. Falcon’s hand on my thigh pulled me out of my frozen state.
“Kee, baby, what’s up?” His voice held so much concern. When I finally turned to face him, his eyes matched his voice.
I cleared my throat. “Um, that was the transplant coordinator. There might be a kidney for me.”
It was surreal to say it out loud. All the days that I sat in the recliner and watched my blood take a journey that I felt I was forbidden to accompany it on, I never really thought that I would get here.
I never really thought that the day would come when they called me and told me that there was a kidney for me.
For years, it had been strict regimens, labs, needles, and restrictions.
Every other day, I contemplated whether this would be the day that my lupus really said fuck you and these kidneys.
It had already given me a fuck you, but there were so many other ways that lupus could give me an ultimate fuck you.
Now, I sat in my bed with hope and disappointment seesawing.
Falcon’s hand tightened on my thigh. “Alright, baby. We’re ready.”
I tittered as a tear escaped. “We’re ready? I barely have a bag packed, so I know you don’t.”
His head bucked back, and his jaw tightened. “Mazikeen, don’t fuckin’ play with me. You got me and my love fucked up.”
He climbed out of the bed, turned on the lights, then left our bedroom.
What the hell is he doing? Moments later, he walked back into our room with matching weekenders in his hand.
My head tilted because when he showed me these bags on a website months ago, I thought nothing of it.
Well, I thought they were expensive as hell, but you paid for genuine leather.
He set both bags on the bed. “Your nigga stays ready. The only thing you need to put in here is your medication. Your ID and stuff are in your big ass purse. All my shit is in here down to extra ChapStick in case your lips get ashy. Like I said, we’re ready.”
I sucked my teeth. “You didn’t have to say all that, nigga. You’ll still kiss these ashy lips,” I said with the corner of my top lip turned up.
He climbed on the bed, leaned into me, then kissed my lips. “You damn right, I’ll kiss the fuck out of those ashy ass lips. I love those lips whether they’re ashy or not.” He kissed my lips again. “I’m going to take a shower. Call Lula.”
He gave me a final kiss before he headed to the bathroom. I pulled over the weekenders to see what he actually packed in them. I went through the bags to see that he packed everything we needed and more.
What is this doing in here? My journal that I didn’t realize he knew about was tucked between my jeans. I pulled it out and rubbed the cover of the leather. It was my the sky is the limits journal.
When I first started dialysis, I was bitter. I couldn’t understand how God could do this to me. It was bad enough that I had lupus, but no! He had to give me the one that destroys my kidneys. It wasn’t fucking fair.
For weeks, I complained about the things that I could have been doing instead of dialysis. One day Lula presented me with this very journal. She told me to make a list of the things that I could be doing so that after I received my new kidney, I could do them.
I opened the book to look over the list. There were so many activities I wanted to do, places I wanted to go, food I wanted to eat listed.
It had been a while since I’d written in the journal because love had taken the place of bitterness.
The mere fact that Falcon felt this journal was important enough to pack spoke volumes.
I got myself together to make this call. It’s 3:20 . . . Lula is going to curse me out. I long pressed the number three on my phone screen.
“Who’s dead?” Lula Ann answered on the third ring. She had this amazing ability to never sound asleep. She could wake up in the middle of her sleep, and she would sound like she had been awake all day.
I took a breath. “The transplant coordinator called. They might have a kidney for me.”
Shuffling was heard on the other end. She asked if I was serious.
The words barely left my mouth to confirm that I was serious before she screamed.
Her scream was so loud that I pulled the phone away from my ear and dropped it.
When I picked the phone back up, she was still screaming.
“Rome, get up, baby! They got a kidney for Mazikeen!”
“Lula Ann, I said might. I didn’t say it was a for sure thing.” I spoke over her loud ass instructions to Rome.
Her loud huff told me that it came with an eye roll. “Mazikeen Joy, I don’t give a fuck what those folks said. They called, so I’m coming. Do you have your bag packed?”
There was nothing that I could do or say that would stop her. She was coming, and that was that. “Yes, Falcon packed my bag.”
“That’s a good man, Maz! Good, we’ll be there soon.” The line became so quiet that I pulled the phone away again to see if she disconnected already . . . She hadn’t. “Mazikeen, I love you so much, sis. No matter what happens, it’s all gonna work out.”
A tear pooled in the corners of my eyes. Her words were light as a rock. “I know, sis, I know.”
Over An Hour Later . . .
When our doorbell rang earlier, I thought it was Lula Ann, but it wasn’t. It was Mama Lauren, Pop Franklin, and Dove. Falcon called them when he went into the bathroom, and they all came. They came for me.
I heard the engine of Rome’s loud ass truck when it pulled onto the street. In anticipation, I opened the door and walked onto our porch. Rome got out then walked around to open the door for my best friend. When she climbed out of his truck, my laughter was instantaneous.
The sun had not risen yet, but this woman had on diva sunglasses. She hooked her designer bag on her arm before she trekked my way. “Girl, why the hell do you have on sunglasses when there is no sun out here anywhere?”
She stopped in front of me. Her hand went to her hip. “Um, this is a life-changing, core memory. When you look back on this day, I refuse to be remembered as broke. What you’re going to remember is that I’m a boss-ass bitch.”
“Lula Ann, what I’m going to remember is that you are a damn fool. That’s what I’m going to remember.” I chuckled as I shook my head.
She lifted her hand, then pointed her finger at me. “A fool but not broke. Mission accomplished. Let’s get inside.”
She kissed my cheek before she walked past me into the house. I gawked at Rome. “That’s your woman, sir.”
He tittered, kissed my cheek, then raised his shoulder. “You’re right, she is my baby.” He moved his face closer to my ear. “She’s been your crazy-ass best friend longer though.”
There was nothing that I could say to that, because he had all the points with that one.
My feet followed him into the house. I stood at the front door after I closed it to take it all in.
Everyone was in such high spirits at five in the morning.
Mama Lauren did what she did best and cooked breakfast for everyone.
That was a kind, cruel punishment since I couldn’t eat any.
This was my family who rallied behind me.
Mama Lauren had her own battles with lupus.
Ours looked completely different from one another, but we battled.
I loved that, at the drop of a dime, she was there to pray for me or curse people out behind me.
She didn’t play about me, Lula Ann, or Dove.
Pop Franklin was the same way. I hadn’t felt so covered since my parents died.