On April 1, 2011, I had a kidney transplant, courtesy of my beloved daughter, Sarah Lynn Deming.

I had lost kidney function from taking the bipolar drug Lithium for nearly 17 years.

Later in life, my bipolar did go away, as it often does.

Ten percent of folks who take the antirejection meds have insulin-dependent diabetes.

C'est moi.

I absolutely love , BUT I do not know how to publish several stories which I finished. If you wish to tell me, email me at Compass123@comcast.net. Thx.

FLUSHY THE MAGIC TOILET

Make yourself comfortable

Read a book if you've

got a long stay, meditate

for a quick one.

How far we've come

in the time we've been here

on planet earth

outhouses, forget 'em

with the crescent moon

above the door and

the unforgettable smell.

Porcelain the choice

of emperors of China

to hold their hot tea with

their long mandarin

nails.

I'm made of the finest

porcelain, kiln-melted in

burning-hot temperatures

that rendered me

strong, white as the

falling snow, and

durable as a young

girl's heart.

We like visitors. Come

prepared with what you've

got to offer me. Take your

time. We've got books

on the lid and a shower

curtain with trips you can

take all over the USA.

And when you flush, listen

to the quick sound. The

sound of gushing rivers.

Makes you want to raft

down the Mighty Mississippi

with Huck and Tom. Do it,

by God, before it's too late.

...

20 DROPS OF URINE

The clear pee-cup awaits

we must check to see if my

UTI has come back

Monday is my test day at Quest

but I have called Nurse Sue to ask

if I could forge the doctor's tests he

wants me to take, all because of that

'pressure to pee,' when only two drops

tinkle out on the upstairs pink toilet.

Yes, she says. Be sure to make the

checkmark like his - the balding man from

Lebanon, with the rolling stool and shiny

tasseled loafers.

After the check, you must circle

'Routine Urinalysis,' then 'Culture'

no mistakes or they'll know.

The entire being of this aging freckled woman

goes into action. I must pee on demand at Quest.

Immediately I quaff two

huge cups of Peppermint tea

a glass of water to wash my thirst

from my two-egg garlic mushroom omelet

then pull into my parking spot

at Quest.

The place is empty. Like my

bladder soon will be.

Pony-tailed Jane does the

rudiments quickly

my Prograf level - which

keeps my kidney pulsing like

a little pocketbook within my

lower right belly - here

kidney kidney kidney -

she's good and I don't feel a

thing as I see her "God is Good"

sign by her desk.

I tell her my fear about peeing.

First, I must choose whether to use

the little kid's word or the adult

multi-syllabic term that indicates

'you are no longer young - the best years

of your life are over' - pushing blond-haired

Sarah to the zoo in Austin where she'd lean

from her pram and wave at the chimps -

I don't let on my fear, but say simply,

"Sure hope I can do it, Jane."

It's like pleasing teacher.

Twenty drops is all I need, she says.

Twenty drops.

I sit in the waiting room. Read my book

for half an hour. 'How are you doing down

there?' I wonder about the clever elimination

system that is revving up for the splashes of

my mighty Niagara.

Sure enough, my cup runneth over.

HAVE A SAFE TRIP

I was young when my legs began to go

five years shy of seventy

I'll never see Paris

I'll never see London

I lamented from my bed

under the ceiling fan that's

never been dusted since I

moved in twenty-three years ago.

Sarah, who picks up languages

like others pick up pine cones

said she'd take me sometime.

On a whim, I called her and

to my everlasting surprise

she said Yes.

Under the ceiling fan

on the Sleepy's Mattress

guaranteed to last for

twenty years

she and I

fly across the Atlantic. I have the aisle

seat so I can walk the runway

back and forth stretching my legs

so I won't get clots and

smiling at all the seasoned travelers

with buds in their ears.

Suddenly the plane begins to rock.

Rather like a cradle I rocked when

Sarah was a baby whose big black eyes

peered up at me with innocence and trust.

Better get back to her, I thought,

and took my seat beside her as

the pilot's concerned voice roared

through the loudspeakers

and we plummeted out of control

down toward the sea.

Drowning was not as bad as I expected.

Sarah's long red hair billowed like seaweed as

we held hands, both of them, her palms not sweaty now,

and mouthed our I love yous.

I thought of the Eiffel Tower I would never see

and the Mona Lisa smiling at me.