http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/ct-talk-craig-kidney-20111125,0,4730127.storyA kidney donor gets plenty back
The Tribune's Megan Craig talks about helping a toddler
I am not brave. I'm not noble. I'm not the nicest person anyone knows.
I am, however, uncontrollably soft-hearted.
This is why when I announced one morning that I'd signed up to donate my kidney to a stranger, my close friends and family were surprised and also completely unfazed.
Why did I do it? I wanted to help someone. And, when it came to kidneys, well, I had a spare.
The idea was sparked by an old friend's heartbreaking situation: Her beautiful baby girl, Clara, died at 8 months because her liver failed before she could get a new one. I wanted to stop that pain for another family, if possible.
Reactions to my decision were polarized. A surprising number of people were appalled and begged me not to do it.
"What if you need that someday? What if your future kids need it? What if your mother needs it? You'll have squandered it on someone you don't even know," they said.
Not one of those arguments dissuaded me. Nor did the preoperative donation process, which required a lot of doctor's visits, a bunch of medical tests and several blood draws. After a few weeks, that was finished, and I was told to wait until a match was made.
In June, my first kidney match failed when the recipient became ineligible for transplant less than two weeks before surgery. I thought about giving up on the process.
Then in October, I got a call from Northwestern Memorial Hospital about another match. Through a donor kidney exchange program, I would start a chain of up to four people getting their kidneys.
The program works like this: Say Donor A wants to donate to her nephew but isn't a perfect match. Instead, she'll donate to a stranger in exchange for a kidney from another donor that does match with her nephew's. These chains can end in several people getting the kidneys they need. I wasn't donating for anyone I knew; instead, I balanced out a would-be recipient who had no donor.
I started worrying as soon as a surgery date was set, but when that day came, I knew I'd made the right choice. Even so, I cried as they wheeled me to the operating room.
Next I knew, I was in a recovery room, with a faint pain in my abdomen and some serious nausea. My husband, there to support me as always, claims my first words after waking up were: "Totally worth it."
After two days and one night in the hospital, I went home. But for a time I remained dependent on others for everything. I couldn't lift my legs into bed. I had to sleep on my back with a breakfast tray over my incisions to keep my cats away.
Still, it was worth it. The discomfort walking, the fatigue and the weeklong shutdown of my digestive system were forgotten when I met my little recipient.
Evan Simms, a 20-month-old boy from small South Wilmington, Ill., was born with multicystic dysplastic kidney, a condition in which the kidneys are filled with cysts. Until our transplant, he'd been on dialysis his entire life.
Kidney-wise, we're a perfect match.
So, through the miracle that is modern medical science, doctors were able to take my kidney out at Northwestern, transfer it in a cooler via ambulance to Children's Memorial, and squeeze it right into Evan's much smaller body.
Only 10 days after surgery, I met my new tiny friend and his huge family.
Our moms cried together as we shared hugs and gifts in the lobby at Children's Memorial. What struck me was this: Evan's parents, Anne and David, are only a few years older than I am, but they've experienced so much more heartache and worry. I've never felt so much like an adult as in that moment.
The gratitude was overwhelming.
In a card, Anne wrote: "What to say when there aren't words strong enough to express how I feel toward you. … We want to thank you and let you know what a great gift this is and how massively it will change our lives."
A waiting room filled with my new family — great-grandparents, grandparents, aunts and uncles — greeted me. They threw around words like "angel" and "hero," words that certainly don't describe me.
And then it was time to meet the man — sorry, the toddler — of the hour. We donned paper gowns and entered Evan's hospital room.
I watched in amazement as he sat, seemingly robust, playing with toys in his crib. It wasn't until I touched his chubby baby arm and looked into his bright blue eyes that he became real.
This real person loves Mickey Mouse and smiles broadly when his mom comes into the room and seems content despite a lifetime of illness. I can't believe he almost didn't make it.
The kidney, which began working right away, is expected to filter Evan's blood for the rest of his life. He should never need dialysis again.
I can't wait to be there for his next milestones. He'll leave the hospital. He'll start swallowing solid foods. He'll walk. He'll join a football team, and go to prom, and leave for college, and fall in love.
He'll turn 2, and then 12, and then 20.
And while I wouldn't advocate everyone rushing to hand out major organs, I can say this: I thought I was donating a kidney to change someone's life. What I didn't realize was how much it would change mine.
mecraig@tribune.com
Topic: A kidney donor gets plenty back (Read 3393 times)