Unwilling Donation

“Hello doctor,” I said and hopped up onto the exam table.

“Hello Jacie. How are you?”

“I’m doing pretty well. How about yourself?” I replied.

“I can’t complain. Are you ready for your flu shot?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, squirming nervously.

“You will feel just a little pinch, and then you’ll be all done.”

I lifted the sleeve of my t-shirt up to expose the top of my arm. I jumped slightly when I felt the cold alcohol wipe swabbing my arm. I closed my eyes and looked away, waiting for the prick of the needle. The moment the needle left my arm, I felt extremely drowsy.

I reached out for the doctor, trying to tell him something was wrong, but I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth. He just smiled and forced me to lie down on the table. I felt a mask cover my mouth, and then nothing.

I woke with a severe burning pain in my side. My eyes fluttered open, and I began to look around the room. Where was I? What happened? My hands went straight to the pain in my side. As I went to reach for my shirt, I realized that I was in a hospital gown. Frantically, I tore at the gown, trying to figure out what was happening. When my hand reached my painful side, I was shocked. Raised, rough bumps of stitches adorned my red, irritated skin.

“How are you feeling Jacie? The surgery went quite well,” said the doctor as he entered the room.

“Surgery,” I slurred, “I was just here for my flu shot.”

“Of course you weren’t here for a flu shot. You did a very good thing, Jacie, allowing us to remove your kidney. Someone, somewhere, is very thankful.”