Follow me on:
About Me
My Roots
I’m Antoni Mercado (though here in the U.S., I often go by Anthony), and I’m 33 years old. I was born and raised in Cartagena, Colombia—a beautiful, vibrant city on Colombia’s Caribbean coast. If you were to visit Cartagena (and I hope you do!), you could say just my first name and most people would know exactly who I am. They'd probably tell you how much I love dancing, the beach, seafood, and watching a beautiful sunset, how I'm always on the go, traveling and exploring the world, that I enjoy racing across town between work, school, and spending time with my friends and family.
​
I grew up in a tight-knit Christian family that means the world to me—my mom, dad, sister, brother-in-law, and my sweet nephew. After high school, I earned a bachelor’s degree in accounting and worked in hotel finance.
Starting my new life in the U.S.
In 2018, after meeting my American partner who was visiting Cartagena on vacation, I moved to Chicago to start our life together. I took night classes to learn English while working several jobs during the day. Before long, I’d built a community, made new friends, and found joy in exploring the city. I fell in love with my new American life—and, of course, I kept dancing at every opportunity! I took the oath to become an American citizen, one of my proudest days.
My health, then the shock
I had always been incredibly healthy. I’ve never smoked or used drugs, and I can barely remember taking anything more than a Tylenol once a year. I’d never been hospitalized, never had surgery, and every doctor’s visit had been completely routine.
Then, in September 2023, everything changed.
​
I woke up one morning feeling like I had the flu—fatigue, fever, sore muscles. I assumed it would pass. I remember making homemade chicken soup, recalling my mom's common phrase, "there's nothing better for the body than chicken soup with lots of veggies." But after two days with no improvement, I went to urgent care. They drew blood, told me it was probably viral, and sent me home. The next morning, I received a phone call that one of my lab values was “critically abnormal,” and I needed to go straight to the ER.
​
At the hospital, I was told I was in acute kidney failure. I could barely process it—I didn’t even know what that really meant. I was admitted to the ICU as doctors tried to figure out the cause and determine if my kidneys might recover. But my condition continued to worsen. My potassium rose to dangerously high levels, and after a biopsy, I was told the damage was permanent. A genetic, random, unlucky stroke of fate. I would need dialysis for the rest of my life—or a kidney transplant.
​
Just days earlier I had been unpacking from a trip to Italy. Now, I was being prepped for surgery to place a catheter in my belly so I could start dialysis.
Living with kidney failure
Since that week, my life has changed in every way.
​
I’ve had to reduce my hours at work. Traveling—something I’m passionate about—is extremely difficult now because peritoneal dialysis is so hard to manage on the road. I take 10 to 15 pills a day. If I drink too much water, my face and feet swell. Every night, I connect to a dialysis machine that pumps 12 liters of fluid through my abdomen while I try to sleep, doing the job my kidneys no longer can.
​
The Anthony people know—the well-traveled, life of the party, social butterfly, the one who loves the beach and nightlife, and the one who could spend one week on an island sunbathing and the next skiing—has had to slow down. Fatigue, muscle cramps, weight loss and nausea have become daily companions. My days are no longer spent walking my dog ​​Kaya through the woods or biking to the beach, nor are my nights spent hanging out with friends, but rather preparing for dialysis and resting.
Why I'm sharing my story
People often tell me I’m resilient, that I’m handling all of this with strength. Maybe so. But I know I’m only able to stay hopeful because of the love and support I receive from my family and friends.
​
And I know this won’t be my forever.
​
This is where you may enter my story.
​
A kidney transplant from a generous, healthy donor could completely change my life. I could get back to being me—to salsa dancing with friends, care-free traveling by finally taking my nephew to Disney World, walking my dog more than a block, and living a full, active life again.
​
Thank you for taking the time to learn about me. I hope you’ll consider helping give me the second chance I’ve been praying for.
