DIFICULT DAYS

 

Ah, the month of May! I recently posted how difficult it is for us to live through the month of May. It is a month of contrasts, of limitless joy, of gratitude to life, to the Universe, and at the same time, it is a month of painful memory, of infinite sadness.

On Friday, May 13, 2016, the medical team caring for Owen Muller, 20, decided to disconnect him from the devices that kept him "alive", with the prior authorization of his mother, Jane Muller, since the patient's condition, in At that time, he diagnosed brain death. There was nothing to do.

Owen, an exemplary boy in every way, deeply loved by his mother and his entire family, as well as friends and acquaintances of his, had ruled that he wanted to be an organ donor on the day of his death.

Once again, they ask for authorization from his mother, who bravely authorizes it. In exchange for that precious life lost so early, several other people could prolong his existence.

It was fulfilled. In the midst of deep pain, it was fulfilled.

On Friday, May 13, 2016, Nila Murillo-Argudo had been discharged from Mount Sinai Hospital, after undergoing hemodialysis in the morning. She was on the waiting list for a liver transplant, but since there were no donors by then, she was sent home "to wait," which meant, practically, dying at home.

Due to those inexplicable things in life, they could not give her hemodialysis in the morning, and neither in the afternoon, which prevented her from "discharging her". They were doing it at night, and suddenly, a medical team bursts into the place and orders that "they be disconnected immediately." The Technologist in charge refused in principle. "It's my responsibility," she argued. The medical team told her that it was also her responsibility, and that they had to take her away immediately.

At midnight the risky transplant surgery began, which lasted six hours (the normal in these cases is twelve hours). At six in the morning on Saturday, May 14, 2016, Nila Murillo was born again.

She had received the precious liver that he donated, the wonderful human being who left the night before, Owen Muller.

Of course, this "rebirth" of Nilita has been a fact of immeasurable happiness for those of us who love her. Her closest loved ones, including me, only awaited her sad departure from this world.

Today, there is a precious friendship between the two families: the Mullers and Nilita and me. There is a family love between us, the one that is cultivated with sincerity and mutual respect.

New York, May 18, 2023

Leonardo.