While I hadn't had time to give it thought considering how fast my life was moving lately, I knew accepting a place on one of the college teams was next on my list. If I had surgery, the offer might be retracted. A decision needed to be made soon even though I’d only just learned of the proposals.
It'd be what I worked for, my incentive to get better.
Not to mention, Avery had to prepare too. Was there even enough time for both of us to get on the same schedule? Anxiety gripped me. This was getting more real by the minute.
Avery was going to college. Did that mean she needed to take a leave of absence? I couldn't do that to her, especially not her freshman year. Maybe a summer surgery would work. That way we both could rest and heal properly. This summer was too late, it would have to be next year.
Clearing my throat, I continued. "Were my test results not what you expected?"
"They're not where I hoped you'd be at this point. You're responding to the medication, but your body is fighting it, and though the decline is slow, it’s steady. The longer you go without surgery, the more wear and tear you're doing to your body even though you can't physically see it. You need to really consider surgery immediately upon returning. You don't want to get to the point where you'll be too far gone."
While Dr. Kozol had seen me when I was in the hospital, he hadn't been able to run the tests he typically did. When I got here, he had vials of blood drawn and tested in his office, some sent out to the lab, along with X-rays and ultrasounds on various organs. He left no stone unturned. I'd sat for hours in his office thinking he'd tell me one thing only to surprise me with something else.
I glanced down at my lap. My fingers were twisted together, my nailbeds a pale pink. This was not what I was expecting. That changed a lot for me. I wouldn't be able to do that and move at the same time.
"How would this work if I move out of state?"
Dr. Kozol stared at me for an uncomfortable moment. "Where are you planning to go?" I listed the schools I was offered a scholarship to and told him the training hours were not nearly as grueling. His bushy brows rose. "So, you're going to continue with gymnastics?"
I nodded, and his eyes bore deeper into mine. I felt like he was silently ridiculing me, that I was reckless for my choices. He wasn't happy with me.
"If it's possible, I'd like to. It's really the only motivation I have right now."
"Have you considered speaking to a psychologist?"
I grimaced. "No, I don't want to do that."
The last thing I wanted to do was tell some stranger my problems and have them give me more pills to take. I was already on a daily cocktail of medication. I didn’t want to add more.
"I'm concerned the illnesses have skewed your vision. You're not making wise decisions, Adrianna. Maybe you should really consider speaking to someone. You do realize you won't be able to do gymnastics this year if you have surgery, right? It's not physically possible."
Of course, I was aware of that. I was aware of everything against me.
I wasn't going to answer him. If I could do dialysis, then I'd be okay for a little while. He had to know that was the door I was going to walk through. At least that way everyone can get prepared and adjusted. That's what I told myself, anyway.
"Wherever you decide to live, I'll put a team together for you. Everyone knows someone in this field, but I'll make sure I'm personally part of the new team, if you like." Dr. Kozol grimaced as he stacked the papers together. "Medically speaking, however, it's not wise. I just don't see how you're going to be able to come back with the thunder you need to train, even if the hours are less and the routines are not as demanding. Transplant recovery is going to take months for you to heal. Then you have to build yourself back up, and then start training. I'm concerned you're going to break your body back down and we'll have to start over. We don't want that. We only want to go up from here."
"But it's doable?" I asked, hopeful.
"I can't recall seeing anyone do it, but that doesn't mean it's not possible." He paused. "I just have to ask something." I nodded, curious about what he wanted to know. "Is gymnastics really worth risking your life for? Really think about that question. You're young. Why are you trying to destroy yourself? You wear yourself down by playing a sport. Once you reach stage five, which you aren't far from, that's it, Adrianna. You can kiss gymnastics goodbye and live out your days in a hospital bed." He studied me. "I don’t understand why you want to do that. You’ll make your life so much harder."
My eyes dropped to the floor. I didn't have a death wish. I guess I just didn't like my life and strived for a better life. It bothered me that something that couldn't be seen could dictate so much in my life.
"If we're not going to schedule your transplant right after, then we need to start you on dialysis. I want you on a plane back here within two days after the Olympics. Otherwise, I'm going to have to resign as your doctor. The risk is too great, and you've not yielded to the treatment I've devised for you. I've done everything I can for you up until now—I've waited long enough."
If I did what he said, that meant I wouldn't be able to do the promo tours with the Olympic team after. My heart crumbled a little.
"I'm not trying to be defiant and I don't want to die. I guess it's the one thing I have control over. It's the one thing that truly makes me happy. Without gymnastics, I don't know who I am. I don't know how to live or what to do."
"That's because you haven't given yourself time to live," he said sympathetically. "Give yourself time to recover properly and then weigh your choices. After that, you can decide what you want to live for. You'll have all the time in the world during recovery to find who you are and what you want to do."
Quietly, I said, "I don't know how to live without gymnastics if I quit. Gymnastics is who I am."
"You don't have to quit. There are other ways to be involved in the sport. You need to get better first and then sort out your future. But with these kind of results after months and months of powerful medications"—he tapped the paper—"you’re knocking on death’s door. Your kidney function is already extremely low. You're pushing the limit. If you drop to fifteen percent, you'll need emergency surgery. Just attending college is going to be difficult in general with the side effects of dialysis. You need to seriously weigh your pros and cons."
I nodded. "I have a question. Realistically, say I start dialysis shortly after I come home, and say I respond well to the treatment, how long do I have before I would need a transplant?"
Dr. Kozol chuckled under his breath. "I feel bad for your future husband," he joked, which made me laugh. "If, and that's a big if, you have a positive response, I'd say no more than two years to be safe. Four would be ideal, but given where your health is right now, that's highly unlikely. We'd rather be prepared early. I hesitate to tell you this because I don't want you to focus on that."
I perked up. I could work with a two-year timeline for both Avery and myself. Even though she was selflessly giving me a kidney, I had to take her time into consideration too. I wasn't going to chance my life like everyone around me assumed I was. I felt in my heart of hearts I'd get better enough to compete again, and that's the kind of mentality I went with. I could hire a personal trainer and do light workouts while recovering with dialysis that way I didn't lose what I’d worked so hard to attain.