Native jumps at chance to donate her kidney

[Karol]

Native jumps at chance to donate her kidney

BY DWIGHT DAVIS
The Dispatch
Published: Monday, December 24, 2012 at 11:54 a.m.
Last Modified: Monday, December 24, 2012 at 11:54 a.m.

When Dena Avery Lawson clicked the send button in response to an email, she had one of those wide-eyed oops moments.

She had just volunteered to donate a kidney to a stranger.

"I thought, what have I done," exclaimed Lawson, a Lexington native who now lives in Anchorage, Alaska.

If there was a way to reach into the computer and stop the message from going forward, she would have.

However, her anxiety over the impulsive reaction lasted just moments. "I knew that I had to do it, and I had a peace about it. I know that is exactly what I was supposed to do. I give God all the glory. I knew in my heart how it would work out."

Call it quirky acts of fate, divine intervention or just plain luck, at the end of this story is a happy, healthy 61-year-old Bob Rodgers of Sequim, Wash., the recipient who had suffered from decalcified kidneys for 25 years.

Rodgers, a former hospital administrator and Vietnam veteran, and Lawson live 2,500 miles apart. Prior to the transplant, he didn't know Lawson. And waiting ahead of him were 85,000 others on a transplant list.

On a job some 20 years ago, Lawson worked with Penny Hosler at the Alaska Railroad. Hosler retired and moved to Sequim and became a neighbor of Rodgers. Hosler and Lawson continued to stay in touch via email.

This past march Rodgers' wife, Carol, was tested to be a living kidney donor for her husband. When she didn't qualify, some desperation set in. She created an online bulletin seeking a "hero," or live donor, for her husband. The "eblast" went to her group list, including Hosler, who passed it along, as well.

That's when Lawson saw it.

The bulletin was titled "Caring Enough to Share …" It began by describing Bob Rodgers' malady — focal segmental glomeruloscleros — that was the result of radiation exposure during the Vietnam War. The text went on, with Carol Rodgers stating she could not qualify as a donor and included other pertinent information.

Lawson, a 1971 graduate of Lexington Senior High School, whose parents lived here on Fifth Avenue, admits she didn't even bother to read the entire thing. "I just skipped to the bottom where it described his blood type. I said, 'I can do it,'" she laughs.

"That's the kind of person she is," describes Hosler of her former coworker. "It didn't surprise me one bit. She is a totally selfless and giving person."

To volunteer to be a living donor is one thing, but actually going through with it is another. Carol Rodgers says about 90 percent who initially agree to become kidney donors don't actually follow through. "Most don't even bother to return the paperwork," she said.

In addition to giving up a kidney, Lawson researched ways to cover some of her expenses through the National Kidney Foundation while taking six weeks of unpaid leave from her job at ABF Freight System in Anchorage.

Potential donors are required to go through weeks of consultations and testing prior to the surgery.

"They tried to talk her out of it for six weeks," Hosler says. "Dena was actually getting mad, she was like, 'I get it.'"

When Lawson was tested as a possible match, doctors at Virginia Mason Medical Center in Seattle were amazed that she matched four of the six markers. "They said, 'Are you sure they are not related?' Carol Rodgers remembers.

The series of remarkable coincidences and the best possible results were not something that Lawson was comfortable sharing publicly at first. It isn't her nature to seek attention. The Rodgerses and Hosler helped convince her the story may prompt others to become live donors.

In addition to adding to the quality of one's life, Lawson says she has also gained another family — the Rodgerses and their family.

Recalling the first time they met, Lawson said, "They picked me up at the airport a month before meeting with the transplant surgery team. They had made these signs that had a kidney on them and said, "Donor Diva."

"All we could do was hug. There weren't any words that needed to be said. It was very emotional. We just cried."

"We spent some time together over that weekend," Carol Rodgers said. "We were so comfortable being with her. It was like we had known her all of our lives."

Lawson's daughter, Jamie, 31, who lives in Prague, Czechoslovakia, was present the day of the surgery.

"She woke me up in the recovery room," Lawson said. "She said, 'Mom, I get it. I just witnessed a miracle. Bob is pink.'"

Indeed, Bob Rodgers recalls waking up and immediately "feeling refreshed."

"I was walking up and down the hallways pretty soon. When people came to see me in the hospital, they had to track me down. Before going into the hospital, I could only walk the length of my driveway and back. Just a week after the surgery I could walk a half-mile. My skin was a gray, ashen color, and it went from that to pink. I have a new life. Before, I was pretty much chair-bound."

"To know I was helping a human being, but actually someone who fought for our freedom, was very humbling to me," added Lawson, who still has deep roots in Lexington.

For the Rodgerses, Lawson's act is difficult to put into words.

"It was overwhelming," Bob Rodgers said. "What she did was amazing."

Dwight Davis can be reached at 249-3981, ext, 226 or at dwight.davis@the-dispatch.com.

http://www.the-dispatch.com/article/20121224/LIVING/312249994?p=1&tc=pg