These are my friends, Danny and Karen Lee.
I met them in a galaxy long ago and far away at an opening of Return of The Jedi in 1983.
I’ve already explained why I so adore the Lees. If you don’t already know them, read about them in my post called Angel Face.
But if you’re lazy, let me sum it up. They are terrific, generous menschy human beings- and they have both been very kind to me.
When I needed the name and contact number for Mickey Mantle’s agent, it was Danny who got the info for me.
When I wanted to go to the Grammys, Danny instantly fixed that up, too.
When I needed sponsorship for my television show in Aspen, Karen generously underwrote several episodes.
And when I had a terrible ski accident in Aspen- on Danny’s birthday in January- it was the Lees who made sure that Nick and I got home safely four days later. Danny even left his own party to come to the hospital and make sure I got checked in. Delirious and not making too much sense, I didn’t remember my spouse’s social security number. If it wasn’t for his intervention, I’d still be laying on that gurney.
Whenever I asked for anything, they always said “Sure.”
And they are not just nice to me. Ask anyone who knows them.
They have two adorable daughters- Sarna and Jessica- and five beloved grandchildren.
And now the Lee family needs our help.
Ten years ago, Danny had cancer. Esophageal cancer. That’s a rough one but he made it.
But he didn’t get off scot-free.
The life-giving chemo slowly destroyed his kidneys. And now he’s on dialysis three days a week.
Forever.
I know the pluses and minuses of dialysis only too well. My dad was on it for nine years, and even though that machine saved his life, it took a huge toll on all the rest of him.
It hurt to be hooked up. I hated to see my stoic and uncomplaining father wince and cry out in pain whenever they attached the ports. Sometimes he’d faint after the treatment. And it slowly siphoned off some of the oxygen to his brain cells, as well.
Like I said, I am NOT whining. We got nine extra great years with my dad and I’m grateful for the genius who invented that wonder machine.
But…
It’s a real trade off and not what you’d wish for anybody. Three hours a day tied to a machine that only partially cleans your blood?
Not a walk in the park.
I’d like to help Danny find a better way.
It’s called a living kidney donor and we’re all on the look out for this altruistic white knight.
Danny is type O+ and that’s what he needs to meet his match. (He can take an O Negative kidney, too. Anyone with a blood type O is an eligible donor.)
(Don’t look at me. I’m A+. I found this out in 1969 when my fiancé and I went to get a marriage license. Back in the day, you had to take a blood test. Billy and I took it at his GP’s office in Glencoe. He walked out with the results. “Well, you did it again;” he grinned. “Got a better grade than me. You’re A+ and I’m B+.)
But even though I can’t donate, there just might someone out there who can.
Interested in helping? Read all about the process here.
My heart is achin’ for you, Mr. Lee.
Fingers crossed, my friend.
You’re right. Danny and Karen are great people. I started kindergarten with Danny. Ask him the story about his first encounter with Miss McCarthy. He always enjoys telling it, and I always enjoy hearing it. It’s a real laugher.
I’m so glad you mentioned this, Bob. I forgot to add “funny” to his list of virtues. Danny is a funny, funny guy. I love the story of the poker game and how he won a guy’s car. (And how his father got him to return the car keys.)
I have known Karen and Danny for many years, but not all that well. What I do know of them, is all that I have read about them and every time I have seen them, they always are friendly, happy, loving family people. For the past 9 years, Danny and I had shared the same doctor in Cleveland so I quietly had felt kind of a connection to him, whether he knew it or not. As I am going to my “new”doctor in Cleveland next week, as our doctor has retired, Danny has actually been in my thoughts lately, as he usually is, before I make the trip out there. I always think of how he is doing especially before I go back. I am sorry to hear he needs the kidney. I wish my blood type was not B-….I would gladly help if I could! It would be wonderful. I am very moved by your friendships with them also.
Thank you for sharing this wonderful- and personal- reflection with us today. I’m sure the Lees will be glad to know that they are in your thoughts. My heart and prayers go out to you at this challenging time. Good luck and God speed on your travels.
I never could remember what my blood type is. Thanks for the memory.
Sorry to hear about your friend. My father-in-law died of throat cancer, my business partner’s wife died of kidney cancer, and my uncle was on dialysis for a very long time. He started out strong and ended up frail. It was sad but his the desire to live was a wonderful thing. So I wish Danny all the best with or without a new kidney.
Wait a minute. You needed to read this to remember your blood type? Well, this anecdote is how I always remember mine. You’re welcome to use it as a mnemonic device. Thanks for the good wishes. I’ll pass them on.
Im an o + do you need to be a tissue match as well?
Where can I learn more about next steps…. I dont know the Lees but am happy to see Im a match and can help
Wow, Patricia! Let me find out. Don’t want to make a mistake here. Thanks.