Gratitude
The Unsung Heroes: A Thank You Note to My Kidneys
Parts that seldom receive the praise they deserve
Dear Kidneys,
I had reached the age of majority and my friends decided it was important to celebrate this milestone.
It happened at the Edelweiss Club, a cozy dinner and dance place in Toronto, not quite as famous as the Rainbow Room in New York City, but still very special. Those kinds of establishments are now relics from a bygone era, and sadly no longer in existence, but still fondly remembered by some of us.
We had just finished our meal when us giggling gals decided to go to the ladies' room. I couldn’t understand why it was so difficult to walk. Looking down I realized that ambulating on your ankles is not a very efficient way to move.
I don’t remember much else from that night. I think my friends delivered me home by the back door.
However, I do remember vividly the next four days recovering from what must have been a bona fide case of alcohol poisoning.
It was not difficult to achieve this level of inebriation when one weighed about 45 kg (100 lb.) and consumed the copious amount as I had allegedly done.
The following day, Mother was quick to appraise the situation — as observant moms tend to do. Mercifully, she said not a word to me about the greenish-yellow pallor of my skin and catatonic state. She must have figured I was suffering satisfactorily and didn’t need to contribute further to my misery.
Spring came and the snowbank by the backdoor melted. Weeks-old regurgitated schnitzel and rice is pretty disgusting.
Oh boy, did Mother curse the nasty juvenile delinquents living next door. The nerve of them coming over to our backyard to deposit such a revolting stew!
It took me a few years to finally fess up, that it was I who did the nasty deed. Mother just smiled at me knowingly. You know, that look moms adopt when they are lightyears ahead of you.
That was the first and last time I drank white wine. Lesson learned. Never again — yuck, poison! I switched to red instead.
Just joking.
Thanks to you dear Kidneys — with Liver’s assistance — for pulling me through that rite of passage into responsible adulthood.
Excuse me, what did you say, dear Brain? No, that’s not exactly true. You didn’t help at all. In fact, you were absent that entire evening. I’m not sure if you were taking the night off or exercising that perverse curiosity of yours to see what it would feel like to be in an altered state.
Stop stammering Brain. You know you have disappointed me more than a few times. What was that? Please remind me when you saved my tush.
Yes, I do remember the island of Île des Sœurs in la belle province. Oui, the wild party, bien sûr I remember it. It certainly was an epic escape, mon Dieu!
Well, thank you for that. But we never went back to collect my shoes. What a pity — I really liked those shoes.
I beg your pardon! What ABOUT that handsome moustache at Ruby Foos? Of course, I remember him. You were chaperoning Heart, who was always falling head over heels for every sweet-talking rogue. Thank you for rescuing the little tart — yet again.
Oh, Heart! Stop fluttering and fussing! Try not to resemble that ancient Greek, Narcissus. Yes, absolutely, you have been spoiled with attention from the beginning of time, or at least from the development of early language.
You, Heart, have been feted and celebrated in love songs and poems, stories and films. Your bella figura has been immortalized in carvings, drawings, and paintings. And from at least the 14th century, a special day has been dedicated to you each year for the things you are supposed to symbolize — love, passion, and compassion.
However, this love note is not about YOU for a change!
So I ask you nicely dear Heart, please resume your lovely rhythm. No, not a galloping polka. A nice samba, tango, or English waltz will do. That’s a good dear.
Back to you, Brain. This is not a performance review, but I should remind you that you failed to fulfill your supervisory role on a few other occasions.
What do you mean, when else?
Well, for example, remember the incident in grade two? Yes, that one. I know that Brain feels no pain, but you should have been paying attention to the distress signals coming from bursting Bladder. It’s your job to monitor all the activity in the body.
What could you have done, you ask?
You could have boldly stood up to the teacher and said, “Excuse me, Mrs. Griffen, Bladder cannot wait another ten minutes till recess”.
The two of you, Brain the logical one and Heart the supposedly compassionate one, should have defiantly led Bladder to the bathroom — and damn the consequences.
No, absolutely not! It’s not the fault of the Kidneys. They were just doing their job as efficiently as ever. How could they possibly help? They’re always stuck in the back!
Poor Bladder — to her great horror and humiliation — couldn’t hold it any longer. The classmates watched with fascination as the puddle grew beneath her chair.
Little Larry, such a darling boy, leaned across the aisle and whispered, “Don’t worry about it…happens to me all the time!”
And as for you dear Heart, where was your acclaimed compassion that day?
Well okay. I’ll give you that. You did gather up your courage to go down to the basement to fetch the caretaker, who took a look at my wet leotards and understood immediately what was required. He brought the broom and sawdust to soak up the offending liquid from the wooden floor and swept up the sorry mess.
Just so you both know — Brain and Heart — Bladder has suffered a lifetime of nervous anxiety ever since.
I would have expected more sense from you Brain. I could go on and on. Pardon me — you want more examples?
All righty then. Here’s another one. Was it such a brilliant idea to juice a whole bag of beets and a head of garlic in the new centrifugal juicer?
One swig of that concentrated brew had Stomach Biome screaming for the exits, and Liver and Gall Bladder undulating like a wild mustang.
Brain, you have so many exceptional resources available to you. For example, Nose and Eyes are always eager to come to your aid and do the necessary assessment before you put us all in danger. Oh Lordy, just the fumes, should have tipped you off.
Reminds me of a similar reaction from the neighbourhood boys who came by to look at Father’s stainless steel apparatus in the corner of the cellar next to the wine press.
At least you didn’t push me to taste that clear liquid, which turned out not to be water but Slivovica at a potency of 75%. That was one bullet dodged, thank heavens.
Please Brain and Heart, I don’t mean to single you out for your faults. Can we stop arguing now? You know I appreciate you both, as I do all of my wonderful constituents.
Yes, you too Spleen. You always keep things nice and clean and protect us from infection. Your contribution is very much appreciated.
Of course Pancreas — you as well! You are the sweetest of the bunch — and not merely for processing that large volume of chocolates on a daily basis.
Yes, dear Lungs? Don’t be timid. What is it you wish to ventilate? You know I couldn’t live without your prāṇa. You’re doing an amazing job, despite what the fitness coach said about having the vital lung capacity of a heavy smoker. It’s a fact, I have never smoked — either cigarettes or those other smelly things.
Well, maybe just that one time when Boyfriend wanted me to try the green stuff growing in a flowerpot on the window sill.
I was so nervous about the horticultural project of his that we had a peephole installed in our apartment door, for security reasons.
And also, in case Father came over with his hunting rifle when he found out I was living in sin with Boyfriend. You must remember this was almost half a century ago when things like that were considered scandalous.
Getting back to my lack of experience in the art of inhaling, Boyfriend instructed me to take a big drag. I sucked on that joint so hard it burned the back of poor Throat. Then after all that effort, it had absolutely NO effect — none whatsoever!
The brownies, however, were a different story. We won’t go into that.
As I said, those were different times. Now it seems every granny can get her hands on those chewy gummy bear candies. You know what I’m talking about — the modern treatment for arthritis and back pain.
What I don’t understand is why these products have only just recently become legal. Well, I think I do know. It’s all about economics.
But we have to be careful not to criticize government policies. We live in Canada, after all, and public protest— peaceful or otherwise — is no longer tolerated. Bank accounts can be frozen.
Anyway, it’s all so hypocritical, and just a load of merde.
What was that, Madame Ānus? Oh, no, no, I wasn’t referring to anything of yours.
It’s not true! I have never called you by any of those vulgar names. I have always addressed you with proper decorum. By the way, that’s a lovely fascinator you are wearing.
Yes, I know you are at the tail end of things, but you must believe me when I say that everyone has the utmost respect for your efficient waste removal.
My only suggestion is that you might try being a little less noisy at certain delicate moments.
When — you ask?
For example, during romantic dinner dates. No, it’s not funny at all. Yes, I can take a joke. Of course, I value a sense of humour. No, I don’t need your help in screening potential paramours. There are other less embarrassing ways to do that. It’s just so unladylike and it scares them off!
No! You cannot blame this on dear Diaphragm. She is like a kindly grandmother, always embracing us with her affectionate hugs. Except for that one intense incident involving the beets.
May I suggest you, Madame Ānus and Sphincter, consider taking some Kegel exercise classes.
Oh no, please don’t be offended Sphincter! I’m not blaming you at all. It is highly probable that it all began with the botched episiotomy.
Stop both of you! I absolutely will NOT tolerate any disparaging remarks about the Lady Parts. Period — none.
No, it doesn’t matter that some parts are no longer in service. These divinely designed components are where all new life begins. Without them, none of us would be here. We shall hold our Lady Parts in the highest regard — thank you very much.
Please, there is no cause to be jealous of one another. You are all integral members of this biological body. I cherish and respect each of you as top specialists in your individual areas of expertise. You are all vitally important to my good health.
I have the best team! We work together in perfect harmony most of the time. And during difficult times — when push comes to shove — we support each other and step in for each other, as we should. Each of you shall be receiving your own day of recognition in due time.
Now, can everyone please STOP TALKING and let me finish this note of gratitude!
To my dear Kidneys who work quietly, diligently, non-stop and always without complaint, who seldom receive the praise they fully deserve, whose exceptional qualities have seldom been written or sung about or had their endearing bean-like shape lauded and memorialized in artist renderings or emojis — I just want to say — we appreciate you and love you more than you will ever know.
À votre santé!
Sincerely
Majda and Company
Thank you to my lovely daughter, Sarah-Brynn for always being my first reader/editor. I ❤️ U 2 ♾️
