As a child, I spent almost all my time out and about in the Cornwall countryside with my sister and two brothers. At the age of 14, however, I was diagnosed with kidney issues. It felt like my life changed in an instant.
In Cornwall, there’s nowhere really for children to go if they have problems with their kidneys. The healthcare professionals in the area couldn’t work out what was wrong with me, so I was sent off to intensive care in Bristol’s children hospital and then Southmead kidney unit for five weeks, away from my family, where they could look into it further. It felt like I was being thrown straight into adult life and look after myself, so it forced me to grow up really quickly.
After more tests, the team at Bristol found out that I have an issue where my white blood cells attack my kidney (and more!), causing their function to get worse over time and eventually fail. I was put on dialysis immediately, though things did start to improve once they knew what we were dealing with and I was able to come off the machine relatively quickly. I was given a lot of medication to take, and then just tried to get on with my life as best I could.
Finding a kidney donor
Things went along that way for a long time. It was only when I was 24 and had given birth to my two boys when my kidneys finally reached the end of the line, so to speak. We knew more about kidney disease this time around, and my mum was really forceful in getting the local doctors to understand the situation. We didn’t want me to go on dialysis again and be forced to live my life based on the machine, especially with two young boys to look after. We knew that my best bet would be to find a kidney donor.
I was really lucky and honoured, as so many people around me came forward to donate. My mum, my husband, my stepdad and my brother all began the tests to see if they were able to donate. Amazingly both my husband and mum were found to be a match for me. After a lot of chatting, we decided that my mum would move forward with the process because she was a slightly better match and she was older, meaning my husband could then potentially donate if I needed another one in the future. Also, because my mum is my mum!
What followed was an absolute whirlwind of tests and checks to make sure the donation was able to go ahead. It was a lot for all of us. The process was a lot longer and involved a lot more than we expected.
On top of that, I couldn’t help but worry that my mum was putting herself in danger for me by donating a kidney. I knew it was her decision and it was what she wanted to do, but it was a feeling I wasn’t really able to get rid of. I brought this up with my mum at one point. She replied “I’m not just doing it for you. Your two boys need a mum. It’s the right thing to do.”
Transplant Day
We were given a few options for when the transplant would take place. We both just wanted to get it done so we picked the first one available – which happened to be April Fool’s Day!
We drove up to Plymouth the day before and stayed in a hotel near the hospital, then both went into the hospital at 7:00am the following morning. They did a few final tests on both of us to make sure everything was still good enough for the operations to go ahead. That was definitely the most nerve-wracking morning of my life, just feeling like I was waiting to be told the reason why we wouldn’t be able to go ahead. In the end, we got the all clear and I was taken down for surgery!
My mum had already been in surgery before me. It was all very emotional and surreal, knowing she was in the operating room next to mine. Before I went down I even heard them through the wall, waking her up after her operation.
The weeks after the transplant
I had been told that I would immediately feel the difference after my kidney transplant. The reality is, the moment I woke up in the recovery ward, all my thoughts were on my mum and whether she was okay. We were on different wards at this point, so I just wanted to see her and make sure everything was okay before I even thought about myself and how I felt.
I was able to see her quite quickly. She was really tired – obviously I had just received a new kidney, while her body was still getting to grips with only having one – but otherwise the operation had gone well and she was told she’d be okay after the recovery period.
I was allowed home after a few days. It was only really when I got home that I finally noticed the difference in myself. I would never have described myself as ill before the transplant, but after my transplant I realised that how I had felt before wasn’t normal at all. So many people I saw in the weeks afterwards said that they could instantly see the difference in me. I had energy that I hadn’t had in years and there was a colour back in my skin.
It was brilliant that we had each other for company during our recovery. We helped each other through everything and understood what the other one was going through. We even had matching scars! I remember one day soon after the operation when we needed to pick one of my boys up from school. Mum has a really heavy front door, so heavy that we even struggled to open it on a normal day, let alone so soon after our operations. We both found it so funny that we couldn’t open it, but even laughing hurt because of the stomach scars. There we were, both laughing so hard and in pain trying to open a heavy door!
A second life
On Mother’s Day, I wrote in my mum’s card that said she’s the best mum in the world because she gave me life twice. I wouldn’t be here now if I didn’t have her kidney. Because of her, my boys have grown up with a mum who can do all the things you expect a mum to do. I have the energy to actually play with them. I’m more positive in myself, and more active. It’s had that ripple effect of not just improving my life, but all those around me. My mum is an absolute superhero for being able to do that with her donation.
