Looking back about 20 years, my enthusiasm for life was put to the test. I found out that my kidneys were failing, and that I would need a transplant.
My kidney failure was a hereditary disease: Polycystic Kidney Disorder, an inherited disorder in which clusters of cysts develop primarily within your kidneys, causing them to enlarge and lose function over time. The outcome meant I would have to go on dialysis, a process that would help purify my blood as a substitute for the normal function of my kidney. The dialysis lasted ten months, dialysing three times a day. The dialysis was so hard, but I was determined to get through it!
During this time my wife Samantha, unbeknown to me, was looking at becoming my donor. She knew that it could take years for a suitably matched kidney to become available. Waiting for the procedure was intense and took quite some time, from the interviews ensuring Samantha wasn’t being coerced into donating, to cross matching bloods and undergoing other medical procedures.
With a living kidney donation, one organ is surgically removed from a healthy person and transplanted into the person in need. After the operation, the donor’s remaining kidney actually grows to take over the work of two.
A kidney from a living donor usually lasts longer than one from a deceased donor and has a lower chance of rejection. A living donor kidney transplant also lessens the amount of time a recipient needs to be on dialysis, if they need to stay on dialysis at all, leading to a much better quality of life after the transplant.
On 5 October 2024 I will have had my transplanted kidney for 12 years. In October 2012, having been admitted to Leeds St James’s University Hospital, both of us nil-by-mouth for 12 hours before the operation, Samantha went into surgery to have her kidney removed. The hospital arranged that our beds would pass when I was wheeled into theatre; a lasting memory for both of us. Samantha was released from hospital 24 hours later and I was kept in for a further five days.
Today, I now work for a company that moves organs, bloods, patients, surgeons and nurses. Revisiting St James’s Hospital in Leeds (to either collect or deliver organs) is always an extremely emotional experience, for obvious reasons.
My routine shift pattern involves four days on, four days off, working with my colleague Darren. I am routinely called out in the middle of the night to transport organs to waiting patients. This calls for thorough planning and diligence to enable the safe and speedy delivery of the organ.
Having had a transplant myself, I know the importance of my work. I am extremely proud to be part of the journey of each and every organ, to offer this gift of life to those in need. Driving organs the length and breadth of the country, and sometimes onward via airports for destinations further afield, gives me immense pride and pleasure.
When the phone rings in the middle of the night, you need to be ready, alert, and good to go in a heartbeat. Once briefed down the phone of your duties, you need to be mindful as you swing your legs out of bed, put on matching socks, get into your own clothes, and avoid waking the house – no one is ready for a man in fluffy pink socks in the witching hours, certainly not from an upright, smart ex-Coldstreamer!
