Young Kidney Care

100s- from a series- a work in progress

The bright lights of Children’s Hospital were more tolerable because of the smiles of the nurses, the patience of the educators who taught my mother and I the unfamiliar rituals of home dialysis, the invitations to summer camps where I could play with other children who needed nightly interventions.  At home, my mother helped me take heavy boxes of dialysis fluid up two flights of stairs so we could perform the sterile procedures.  I knew how to do them by myself, masked up, bedroom door closed, but she often joined me. Every night, my blood was cleaned in my bedroom.

In August of 1994, I got a kidney transplant, My four years of pediatric dialysis were the same four years that she had cancer. She passed in October of my senior year. They called me from class down to the main office where I sat silently for a half hour until father picked me up from school. When I returned to University of Detroit High School I maintained my 4.0 GPA. Bas was classmate, Indian-American and co-valedictorian. He was hurt he didn’t get into Stanford and complained my admission was merely an affirmative action preference. I packed a trunk.

They don’t care about you in adult hospitals. They never said that out loud, but I heard them loud and clear.  The lights were just as bright at Stanford Hospital, but I had to navigate them alone.  The entire experience,  a sterile procedure.Everyone there, responsible for looking straight ahead, taking care of themself. I was on immunosuppressants.  They told me I’d have to take them for the rest of my life. My immune system was more vulnerable than the average person. I’d leave campus and get my blood checked. Did I have any friends that knew of this extracurricular?

On the Form: the 100s

I found the 100s while reading Shapes of Native Nonfiction: Collected Essays by Contemporary Writers, Kim Tallbear included a series of Critical Poly 100s, that convey glimpses into her “ethic that also focuses on multiple relations with place, and values the hard work of relating to and translating among different knowledges.”

Soon after reading this I came across Say, Listen: Writing as Care by The Black | Indigenous 100s Collective. The 100s in this text “foreground the relationship between writing and the body, conceptions of sharing space and living together”

Emily Bernard is credited with starting the practice of the 100s, forming the 100-Word Collective in 2009.

The form is short pieces that are in conversation with other writers and thinkers, often written in collectives or exchanged as a call and response with others. Some writers are flexible with the 100 word limit. Tallbear emphasizes hitting 100 words exactly. I liked that approach. The discipline, “Kuzvi bata!” as Ajanaku would exclaim.

Each paragraph being 100 words on the dot.

*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~

I’ve recently launched the paid subscriptions on this platform. Thank you to Liz, Lauren, and Chandler for the inaugural support for this next phase! You are all invited to join and contribute to be a part of this Creative Calabash- a healing and writing journey.  I’ll be writing future posts and notes that describe some of the benefits you’ll get as I make them up.