They are very lovely babies, and they make their Mama proud, but I am noticing that as they quickly age, they require more and more vigilance.
Especially in the kitchen.
They seem to have certain preferences when it comes to troublemaking: They love bananas (K+), milk (Ca2+), salt (Na+), pumpkin seeds (PO43-), and water (H2O), among a few other things; it always seems innocent, at first, but the subsequent mishmash leads to messes and boo-boo’s.
It always breaks my heart to see my adorable kidneys injured, and I’m doing everything I can to protect them and prevent their predicaments. So much so, that I’ve decided to offer my experiential wisdom to all of the parents out there caring for their sweet, cute kidneys. I want to share the dos and don’ts that I’ve come across, and hopefully learn from the millions in the world who are striving just like I am.
I also look forward to posting my creative recipes!
Thank you, so so much, for reading about my sweet Zack and Calixte, and please stay tuned.
Olav, born in an undisclosed country, worked his way up the political ranks while building his pharmaceutical empire, eventually becoming an oligarch.
Being his national leader’s expert and ambassador for pharamcological products, he was naturally put in charge of overseeing his country’s athletes’ performance in international sporting events.
But drug screening would expose the scheme, and Olav’s head was to be brought back to his national leader – on a stake, of course.
Isolated, desperate, and with his bank accounts emptied and frozen, Olav turned to companions in the black market for help. When asked for monetary remuneration in exchange for the efforts to help him flee, Olav told them that he didn’t have any amount of undisclosed currency to his name.
“Kidney is fine,” the mastermind said, non-chillantly and with an undisclosed accent.
“You want kidney?!” Olav asked, surprised, and with a similar accent.
“Yes, kidney. Then, I sell.”
“But I was born with unilateral renal agenesis. I have only one.”
“I don’t need excuses. I need kidney.”
Olav began to feel the sweat run down the back of his neck, thanks to the cutaneous nerves originating from the dorsal rami of his C2, C3 and C4 spinal nerves. He looked around the cluttered room nervously, employing his superior rectus, medial rectus, lateral rectus, inferior rectus, superior oblique and inferior oblique muscles to move his eyes, and spotted a peritoneal dialysis machine.
He couldn’t quite figure out why they’d have such a device on hand, and he certainly wasn’t going to ask.
‘Perhaps they steal kidney and give victim option for survival by selling dialysis machine to same victim?’ Olav pondered.
“I give you kidney if you give me dialysis machine.” Olav pointed to the contraption in the corner.
“This is not negotiation,” the mastermind retorted impatiently.
“With machine, you help me survive, and I make you partner in pharmaceutical company,” Olav proposed with determination, despite the stomach-wrenching nervousness that he felt.
“But company is finished. You are no longer oligarch.”
“If I rise once, I rise again. If I build once, I build again.”
The mastermind was unexpectedly persuaded by Olav’s rebuttal. He contemplated the prospect of Olav’s reestablishment, and the possibility of insurmountable wealth that could ensue.
“I will be watching you. If you do not rebuild, then I take more than kidney.”
Olav nodded agreeably and gratefully as one of the mastermind’s henchmen handed the machine over.
“Now, take kidney.” The mastermind signaled to his henchmen.
Olav now finds himself in an undisclosed, predominantly English-speaking nation, with a new identity, attempting to rebuild what he once had: A pharmaceutical company, a political empire, and ultimately, an oligarchy.