Ellington

"Good Morning," said the elderly man pushing his walker through the fluorescent-light-filled room occupied by a dozen or so people at 6 a.m. "Good morning," they reply in tired voices. This forced camaraderie, this solidarity, is not taken lightly. Everyone in the room is lacking something really important: kidney function. That includes my fiancee, Harriett Johnson.

I have spent countless hours over the last few years talking to children behind bars, and witnessing or hearing about the most unpleasant things our society can do to young people. None of what I have heard or seen could prepare me for being a witness to the everyday struggle that Harriett goes through—she and so many more individuals with deadly diseases or cancers whom, like incarcerated individuals, we often 
try to hide behind doors and smokescreens.

Three times a week, we rise at 5 a.m. and go to dialysis. There, Harriett, who is easily decades younger than the next youngest person in the room, gets plugged into a machine that pulls her blood from her body, cleans it and puts it back into her. Needless to say, this is draining. This ritual gets old real quick.

Harriett has lupus. This is an autoimmune disease that affects more than a million people, mostly women and especially women of color, around the country. There is no cure, and there is no way to determine all the problems related to it. The symptoms may include ongoing fatigue, skin irritation or, like it is for Harriett, kidney failure. What that looks like on a day-to-day basis is unpredictable. She may have no energy one day, maybe nonstop vomiting the next day.

She is a much stronger person than I. Harriett turns to God; she turns to family; she turns to me. And we are not allowed to give up because she does not give up, similar to so many others struggling with lupus, kidney failure or any number of other potentially deadly ills. While not alone, she and all her loved ones are forced to recognize the power and the powerlessness in mortality. What we have one day, we may not have the next, so we need to appreciate everything, from the sun coming up to the miraculous nature of a tomato growing in the garden. Tomorrow it may not be there; tomorrow she or I may not be there.

Harriett recently came close to having a new kidney. She is on multiple waiting lists for kidney transplants, and finally, there was a match. At the last moment, the transplant did not take place. Cancelled. Now, she is on the hunt again for a kidney.

Many of us are organ donors; we have the hearts on our licenses to prove it. But we usually do not think to do so while we are among the living. I compel you, even if it is not a kidney, to donate what you can. Donate blood, donate hair, donate bone marrow, donate money for research, donate time. Everything and everyone are worth it.

Harriett is a civil-rights attorney, so she is used to being a fighter. I am an advocate, so I am used to standing up when it is not always popular to stand up. By nature, we make demands of those around us when we see, experience or hear of something that is unjust. Right now, we, and so many more in Harriett's situation, are making demands to an unknown force. There is no clear adversary; there is no clear recipient of our scorn.

We do not share this to make the Jackson community feel sorry for Harriett—she would not stand for that. We share this to raise awareness and push people to ask questions, seek guidance, to look for those often ignored by society, be they in prisons, in nursing homes or because they are in self-imposed hiding due to a deadly disease or cancer. Do something—or simply say 
"good morning."

Harriett has a unique way of lighting up any room with her smile, with her mind, and with the way she takes care to make everyone around her feel comfortable and loved. I don't share this to make anyone feel guilty about the situation, just to push you to go read up on lupus (check out lupusmidsouth.org for more information), go read up on kidney failure, diabetes and man's inhumanity to man, woman and the world.

I share this because I am selfish, and everyone should see Harriett light up the room.

Jed Oppenheim is a citizen of Jackson. If you have type-O blood and are interested in donating a kidney to Harriett, please contact him at 310-994-1841.