Susan Pitts

Stephen F. Austin State University / Business, English

target pistol shooting

The worst thing to ever happen in my lifetime: My brother, Jerry Pitts, committed suicide on January 11, 2010, at the age of 58. He was a member of the NHS Class of 1969. He was a Nacogdoches native and resident.

He and Millicent Wallace Pitts, NHS Class of 1972, have one daughter, Lee Ann Pitts Thill.

I have one sister, Lennijo Pitts Henderson, Valedictorian, NHS Class of 1967. She is a dean and Library Director at Richland College in Dallas.

My mom, Millie Pitts, is 83, and a remarkably strong woman. She and Mr. James Johston have "dated" for over 20 years, and I love them both dearly. Mr. James Johnston retired from his job of many years as Superintendent at Central Heights ISD. He is the brother of our NHS Principal, Mr. Johnny Johnston.

My closest friend, Jimmy Daniels, NHS Class of 1967, is on dialysis three days a week, and we are anxiously awaiting a kidney transplant.

On Easter Sunday, 2011, Jimmy Daniels received a kidney transplant at East Texas Medical Center Transplant Unit in Tyler, Texas. He was so close to death as I drove him to Tyler late Saturday night for the transplant. He kept telling me that he was too anemic for the surgery. I just kept driving faster and telling him he was getting that kidney, driving fast to keep my mind off what I really wanted to do, which was to just dissolve into tears. One week later, late on a Saturday night, we crossed the river and I pointed out the sign, telling Jimmy we had made it back to Nacogdoches County. Jimmy said, "I never thought I would see it again." I would like to say that everything is great, but just as we were getting used to the fact that he had a kidney that really worked, he began exhibiting signs of kidney failure or transplant rejection. Then we learned all about something we had never heard of--BK Virus. This virus came with the transplanted kidney, and the immunosuppressents were allowing it to flourish, damaging the long-awaited kidney. Needless to say, it was a feeling of going from an ultimate high to the lowest of lows. Jimmy's transplant surgeon, Dr. Steven Potter, told us that Jimmy was his only patient that he was losing sleep over. We spent the week before Christmas, 2011, in the transplant unit, where Dr. Potter and the entire transplant team scrambled to keep that kidney functioning while trying to get rid of that BK virus. We got home late on Christmas Eve, and what a gift it was to be back home, with Jimmy. In 2012, I had to take Jimmy back to the ER in Tyler, and we spent more weeks in the Transplant Unit. Our last stay was for the first 10 days in August. I tried to take him for several days, but he insisted on rehearsing with the Guv'nors (Jimmy Daniels, David Lambert, Homer Dean Tindall, Indio Calzeda (formerly known as Fred Bright).

Troy Lilly, RIP

As we rang in the new year of 2013, I think back to January 11, 2010, when the new year began with my brother, Jerry, committing suicide. Jimmy Daniels was in dialysis when I went to tell him the terrible news. 2010 became the year for me when survival, even for a day, came to be enough. 2011 was the year that we celebrated Jimmy's kidney transplant, and before the newness of that miracle had been processed, we went from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows, all because of the BK Virus--a wicked enemy to that transplanted kidney. During 2012, we learned that a week, or even ten days, in the Transplant Unit at ETMC Tyler, was not the end of the world. Dr. Potter has been there for every crisis, and he is the most intelligent man I know. And he cares about Jimmy and me. 2013 is a year where I will be thankful for every day. There is no need to worry about tomorrow. Each day is a gift, to be enjoyed to the fullest.