I first heard about altruistic kidney donation at a blood donation centre. Until then, I had no idea it was possible to donate a kidney to a stranger.
With my children now older, donating a kidney I did not really need seemed the obvious thing to do, particularly given how statistically unlikely it is that I will ever die in circumstances where my kidneys could be donated after my death. Rather than let a perfectly good kidney go to waste, I could donate it now, when it was certain to help someone.
There were a lot of blood tests and scans to complete, but I was able to do them in Aberdeen where I worked. The appointments were impressively quick and efficient, so the disruption was minimal.
In total, 13 months passed between my initial enquiry and the operation, including a short delay while doctors confirmed that my blood pressure was not a concern. I arrived in the morning and, within about an hour, was under anaesthetic.
I have vague memories of waking up in recovery before being moved to a general ward. Still somewhat under the influence of morphine and painkillers, I was up and chatting with visitors on my first evening. I spent two nights in hospital and was discharged on the third day.
I was on a ward with other patients who had chronic kidney problems. Although this did have the disadvantage that staff were perhaps less familiar with my specific post-operative needs – pain relief could sometimes be slow to arrive (whimpering and chewing your hand does not help!). It also meant that I met the sort of people my kidney would help.
I had never met anyone on dialysis before, and it was humbling to understand just how debilitating kidney disease can be. Realising that donating something I did not need could fundamentally change someone’s life, and the lives of those who love them, made me enormously proud of what I had done and helped me quickly forget the pain.
Although I checked myself out on the third day, I would strongly recommend having someone help you pack up and get home. Morphine can leave you surprisingly groggy.
My wife kindly cared for me during my recovery. I took codeine and paracetamol for about ten days, along with laxatives for roughly a week. I was able to do light desk-based work from home within a few days, although I still needed to lie down regularly for the first couple of weeks – particularly when there was washing up to be done!
Three weeks after the operation I was back in Aberdeen doing light office work. After four weeks I was going on hikes again, and after five I was back on my bike.
Fortunately, I have a photograph of my scar taken just hours after the operation, when it bore an impressive resemblance to a shark attack victim. Now, however, the scars are barely visible. There were no stitches; everything was simply glued together.
Two months on, I am completely back to normal, with almost no physical evidence of the donation. What remains is an enormous sense of pride and happiness.
Altruistic donation is, I agree, a little strange. It is weird having no idea what happened to my kidney. I am perhaps zealously atheistic, but it has brought a religious, beatific happiness. I believe I have changed someone’s life, although I have no specific evidence of it.
One of the best decisions I have ever made.
