Here’s the process: fast, bloodwork, pee in a cup, speak to a social worker, speak to a nurse, be told I should lose weight and my cholesterol is a little high, get sent a 24 hour blood pressure cuff, don’t sleep because cuff goes off every 30 minutes, cuff goes off at the beginning of the meeting with city hall while trying to get marriage license, scribble on diary “had stressful meeting at 11:30,” break down sobbing that my blood pressure is going to disqualify me, get talked down, wait two weeks, convince myself I’ve been eliminated, get call that tells me to go get 24 hour collection jug, get jug, pee in jug, judge how much I pee, too much pee, too little pee, too yellow, too clear, drive with jug buckled into passenger seat, walk into most crowded Labcorp I’ve ever seen, sit in only free seat between two men in suits here for drug screen, hold jug in lap, put down jug, get blood drawn, wait, wait, wait.

Here's the process: tell my parents, field questions of why I care about my ex-step-cousin-in-law, am asked if donating a kidney is too selfish of me, struggle to explain that she is more family to me than they are, don’t say that, don’t tell them anything else.

Here’s the process: donor matches, donor falls through, donor matches, donor falls through, get sent screening form via text, wait to be eliminated, watch others get eliminated, never do.

Here's the process: hope I’m a match, hope I’m a match, hope I’m a match.