Sunday, April 11, 2010

It's all fun and games - ya, whatever.

It may come as news to many of you to learn that there is such a thing as a Transplant & Dialysis Games - our own version of the Olympics, without the drugs scandals (we're all shamelessly doped to the eyeballs, there's no point in them trying to police it).

The participants are those of us who like to not only defy God by living longer than he clearly intended with the aid of man-made devices and interventions, but who like to run around tracks, hollering about the fact that we have cheated him (yes, we know he'll still get us in the end, but in the meantime, we enjoy the gloating).

The Games are for everyone who had a tranpslant and those on dialysis, all age groups, all levels of fitness and capability. The purpose is to highlight the difference organ donation makes to our lives and also to keep us healthy and fit while we continue to cheat Death.

That's the official line anyway.

In reality, it's all about the gold. It's about winning and crossing the line ahead of the rest and having all the glory that Sonia O'Sullivan missed out on due to various stomach-related illnesses (that excuse doesn't really fly in our Games - we see her "food poisoning" and we raise it "organ failure").

Ok, I may have a slightly competitive streak. I am in fact currently observing a self-imposed ban from the game of Scrabble because I tend to become a monster when presented with a tablet of letters and a challenge to beat everyone else with the words I create.

But personally, it would make me feel like even more of a sick person to be patted on the back just for making it from the changing room to the start line without needing an oxygen mask.

I probably won't win anything at the Games*, but then I'll reserve the right to be really annoyed and behave as the brother does when his football team loses a match - you blame the weather, the opposition, the ground conditions, your footwear, your old injuries and then you stop speaking for two days.

My body may be sick, but my mentality is still the same. You play to win. Period.

Note: The Games take place in August. If you never hear me mention them again, it's because I went out and lost in spectacular fashion. I will then be eating all these words along with all my words from many aborted games of Scrabble.


  1. "we see her "food poisoning" and we raise it "organ failure")."

    Take a bow, that's just superb.

    I want to play you, and beat you, at Scrabble.

  2. Radge - you know me to be a serene, mild-mannered creature. This is not the case when I play that board game.
    I would not subject you to such cruelty. Or to such a thrashing.

  3. Hey there, sorry if I am putting this in the wrong place, my names Louise and I just read your article in the Irish Times and honestly felt like I could of written it!

    I am 29 years old, live in Exeter, and was also accidentally diagnosed at 26. I was on pd for 6 months and started it last sept.

    Luckily/unbelievably I got the call 6 weeks ago (also use to lie in bed every night hoping the phone would ring - it kept me sane and drove me mad at the same time!)

    Still getting my head round that its actually happened but just wanted to say I really hope you get the call soon and I know what you mean about being young and friends not knowing what to say. Its such a strange disease isn't it?

    I reckon we must have turned ourselves into pretty strong people with all this crap and I guess we prob appreciate life more now than most people in their 20s! Anyway just wanted to say hi and i'll have my fingers crossed that dreaded machine is gone from your life very soon....

    Take care

    Lou x x

  4. Don't forget to prepare a Jacko tribute tee-shirt for your victory celebration:

  5. Louise - that gives me some hope to hear you got transplanted so quickly. I have heard of it happening, but they keep telling me I must be prepared to wait 2 years. Boo, I say! I hope you're recovering well and planning lots of fun now that the worst is behind you;)

    T - That is an idea. Only I might spell the dearly departed Jacko's name correctly.

  6. What the..... You got transplanted? Oh serves me right for reading back to front. Oh that's great news Reg. Excellent news.

    Here's a word for you


  7. Oh I feel thick now sorry. I just realised you were replying to Louise there. Great news for Louise of course. Sorry Reg. Hopefully not much longer and you'll be sorted out too.

  8. Holemaster - Don't worry, you will be left in no doubt as to whether or not that little miracle has happened when I do actually get my transplant. I will not be keeping quiet about it:)