Personal stories

Here are personal accounts of five people who have donated a kidney to a stranger:

“Pity I can’t do it again”

Dr Chris Burns-Cox, consultant physician, Gloucestershire, and member of the steering committee of Give a Kidney – One’s Enough, donated a kidney in 2010 at the age of 72

I had been a doctor for 50 years and still felt a pity for the suffering of mankind – but also was aware how enormously fortunate I had been in my own good health.

These were good reasons for looking around for what else I could do to be of use and ease a little suffering. Giving a kidney to a stranger anonymously had been discussed in the newspapers, so I rang the local transplant unit to find out more.

What could be the downside to giving a kidney? Worst was the thought of the effect on my family of disability or death from the operation, but thankfully the chance of this seemed about equivalent to the hazard of crossing a busy road. What if my remaining kidney were to be damaged in future? This was also very unlikely, as I no longer had physically dangerous hobbies. It seemed that people who donated a kidney tended to live longer than the general population.

At the hospital I was cautiously welcomed by the transplant team: the coordinator, surgeon and physician and those who carried out all the tests of my general and kidney health. I was flattered that they did not quibble at my age of 72. I was well aware that doctors are fallible and things can and do go wrong, but I trusted these people, who all had excellent motivation and skills.

At no time was I under any pressure to go through with the donation. I was repeatedly told that I could change my mind at any time and that I did not have to give a reason. My wife and three children were either neutral or clearly positive about the donation, and it shows how skilful they are in that there has never been any stress or friction on the subject.

After interesting and not unpleasant tests over five months, I was given a date to come in for the operation. This lasted three hours, and I awoke in my bed with little discomfort and a gadget enabling me to control my dose of painkiller. Amazingly, an hour later the surgeon came and told me that what had been my kidney was working very well in someone else.

I spent two days in hospital then rather gingerly went home. I was back to normal after a few weeks. Whilst I was a bit fragile for a week or two, I never felt as if I had been through major surgery. I suspect this was due to the operation being by the keyhole technique, with a small incision.

I still do not know who received my kidney, and I do not want to know unless it were to be of help to him. The coordinator transmitted a message of thanks and good cheer from him. He is apparently back to a normal life, having been increasingly run down on dialysis.

I must praise the National Health Service and its relevant quangos that made this donation possible. What an amazing system, and there was no mention of money at any time – pure benevolence. It has been suggested that until people are paid to donate organs, there will always be a shortage. I find this attitude repugnant, as it appeals to the worst in human nature. There always will be people who want to help others if given the chance. Now that altruistic anonymous kidney donation is possible, it is the donors’ duty to inform and encourage others to do likewise.

I am confident that when the public realises that donation is no big deal for the donor – but a really enormous one for the recipient – many will join the altruistic donors’ club, Give a Kidney – One’s Enough. If we campaign effectively enough for this, the days of suffering and dying on a kidney transplant waiting list will be over. Humans will again show that we can not only torture, exploit and kill but, amazingly, save each other.

I wish I had another spare kidney to donate.

“My heart told me to do it”

Di Franks, aged 58, from west Berkshire, is an altruistic kidney donor who has written a blog about donating her kidney. You can read it at www.livingkidneydonation.co.uk

In 2010 I donated a kidney to someone I did not know. A friend of mine in the United States donated one early in 2006, and that was the first I heard that you could. Immediately my heart just told me this was something I really wanted to do. Giving a small part of me to someone else would make little difference in my life but a huge difference in someone else’s – it was an easy decision for me to make.

It was not legal at that time in the UK, so I just patiently waited, believing that at some stage it would be. Early in 2007 I found that it was now legal and I searched for information in earnest. My research got me the information I needed regarding the evaluation process and the operation and what the risks were. Recovery seemed to vary from person to person, but the length of time was acceptable. I also learned that living with one kidney afterwards, as long as I took care of myself, presented no problem.

Nothing I found put me off and, having “accepted” the whole [medical] process, I could put that to one side for now. One other aspect that concerned me was the emotional side. I needed to look into potential problems and how I would deal with them. What if the transplantation was not a success? How would I feel? I needed to know what I might expect and know that I could cope emotionally.

Telling my ex-husband

Once I was satisfied that I had done all the research I needed and was happy with the results, I arranged for an appointment at the Living Donor Department of the regional transplant centre. At this point I told my ex-husband of my intentions, as I wanted his help and support. Would he come with me to the first appointment for moral support? He was great and fully supported me and said he would help where he could. The only two concerns I had were whether the hospital might think I was too old (at 57) and whether having an underactive thyroid would prevent me from donating. I need not have worried, as neither presented a problem. I underwent some initial tests, such as heart ECG, gave blood and urine samples, and had my chest X-rayed. I saw the surgeon, and he and the transplant co-ordinator asked me questions and I asked them some. I was not expecting all this on the first meeting, so was quite impressed and felt hopeful that they would accept me for further assessments. A few weeks later I heard back that they were happy for me to continue to the next stage, and another appointment was made.

Time to tell my son

Now that I knew there was a chance I could actually donate it was time to tell my son, Matthew. He was a farrier in the village and lived a few streets away. I told him what I would like to do and asked his views. I made it very clear that it was not something I had to do and that if he was not at all happy with it then I would not donate. My family did and always will come first in my life. After I had explained the risks and the procedure, Matthew said he was okay with me donating. Later he did voice a concern but, having looked into it all further, was satisfied and said how proud he was of me for doing this.

Over a period of around eight months I had various physical tests, none of them invasive or uncomfortable. I also had to see a psychologist, who talked me through the emotional side of donating – what I might expect and how I felt I would cope under various situations. I was very pleased about this as my emotions had been of concern, and she helped me understand what I may face. I later saw a psychiatrist, who wanted to make sure that I was donating for the right reasons and was not under any pressure to do so or getting paid to donate.

I have to admit that the whole evaluation process seemed to take forever and was quite frustrating at times. I think I expected to have all the tests over and done with in the first two or three weeks! But I suppose they have to take their time, making sure that everything is done correctly and not rushed – after all, this was an operation done out of choice, not necessity.

Finally, all the tests were over with, and the HTA (Human Tissue Authority) gave their approval for me to donate. I felt so excited; finally it was all happening.

The surgery itself

The keyhole surgery was event free. My two-day stay in hospital was great. Everyone was wonderful and the food was lovely and the bed so comfortable. I was allowed to go home after two days. I did have some pain in the main incision area, but, believe me, childbirth is far worse! The pain relief tablets worked well when I remembered to take them. I was very tired the first 10 days, sleeping during the day for an hour or so. After the second week things greatly improved, and although some tiredness remained for a few weeks, basically I felt great. I heard that my recipient was doing fantastically well.

Looking back on it all, I would not hesitate to do this again if I could. Even though it was a bit frustrating at times, the whole process really took little effort on my part and carried only a very small risk – but it was life changing for someone else and their family.

“The risks are less than those of mountaineering or microlight flying”

Paul van den Bosch, GP, Surrey, and member of the steering committee of Give a Kidney – One’s Enough, gave a kidney in 2008, at the age of 53

I still find it difficult to say exactly why or when I decided to look at the possibility of donating a kidney. My first job as a junior doctor in hospital in the 70s was on a renal ward, and while dialysis was obviously life saving it was also very clear that it was far from an ideal treatment. Over the years as a GP I have come across many people with kidney disease, but perhaps the turning point came when I asked a man about my own age about the impact that having a transplant had made. “It’s like winning the lottery,” he said, and then hesitated a moment before adding, “No, better than that, because no amount of money could have made me feel well again.”

Aside from willingness on my part, practical issues and the opinions of my family needed to be considered. I have reached an age where my children are more independent and old enough to understand and discuss the decision. My wife, who is also medical, was very supportive, and my work colleagues were flexible.

NHS Blood and Transplant and the Human Tissue Authority have excellent websites, so I was reasonably well informed by the time I got in touch with a local transplant co-ordinator. The whole assessment process was quite straightforward but time consuming, and I found this more irksome than any other aspect. I questioned the necessity for a full psychiatric evaluation. My tolerant co-ordinator persuaded me that it had to be done, even though I am still not entirely convinced. I know that there are significant risks associated with donation, but they are not huge and certainly less than the risks of mountaineering or microlight flying. They are probably less than the risks taken by my brother in law, who recently started riding a large motorbike. He did not have to undergo a psychiatric interview – although his wife might have thought it appropriate!

My first admission ended with a last minute cancellation because my recipient became ill, but on the second occasion all went according to plan. The post-operative period was perhaps more painful than I had expected, but there were no complications. I went home 48 hours after my laparoscopic nephrectomy and was back at my desk two weeks later. I am not sure that I am a good patient, but pushing the system and being self employed probably helped me return to normal quickly, although thorough assessment, high-quality surgery and excellent aftercare were clearly the most important factors. Four months on I have just returned from a cycling holiday and have a scar but no other signs or symptoms.

My only regret is that I am not in a position to donate another kidney. While the whole process has its inconvenience, discomfort and risk, these are far outweighed by the benefits. I am very glad to have heard that my recipient, whom I have never met, is doing well, but the benefits are mine as well as hers. I know it is not something everyone would wish or be able to do, but there are few actions one can take in life that are so unequivocally useful. It is worth a thought.

“Taking into account modern surgical techniques, altruistic donation is not the big deal many people think”

David Hemmings,aged 67,from Devon, a retired civil servant and lay magistrate, donated a kidney in 2010

Reprinted by kind permission of the British Journal of Renal Medicine (2011;vol 16, no. 1)

Probably the most frequent question I have been asked has been, “Why?” For me, this was fairly simple and straightforward; I believe that if you are in a position to help someone else less fortunate than yourself, then you should do so.
I have been a blood donor since the mid-1960s and have carried an organ donor card for nearly as long. I heard indirectly about friends of friends who were on dialysis or had received a transplant, so I was particularly interested in an article about the possibility of altruistic donation. I think this was in The Times about two years ago.

My first step was to search the internet, where I found the website www.organdonation.nhs.uk – it was informative and straightforward, answering most of the questions that were on my mind. This information enabled my wife and me to discuss the possibility of me donating a kidney in an informed way, and we decided to find out more. The fact that this early decision was a joint decision was essential for both of us; I cannot overstate the importance of this mutual support.

I could become a donor on condition I lost 10 kilos

The website also provided me with the contact for my local living donation transplant co-ordinator, who sent me further information. Having studied this with my wife, I then arranged to meet my local co-ordinator. Following some preliminary tests, an appointment was made for me, together with my wife, to see the local consultant nephrologist.

Approaching this appointment I thought there was a very real chance that I would not be accepted as a donor; after all, I was 66 years old, taking medication for hypertension, and had suffered from schistosomiasis when living in central Africa in the late 1960s. I was, therefore, somewhat surprised when the consultant announced he was prepared for me to be a donor on the sole condition that I lost ten kilos! Suddenly, it was all down to me; gone was the convenient let-out of, “Well of course I wanted to do it, but it wasn’t possible because of … ” I had been advised to lose weight countless times before, but suddenly this was different. It was no longer just in my interest to actually do it, this challenge gave me the determination and extra incentive to do it. The other important point that he made was the need for support from family and close friends.

I immediately started to take much more notice of what, and how much, I was eating and drinking. I also started to make a concerted effort to get out for a good walk nearly every day and, just as predicted, the weight started dropping off and I reluctantly had to admit that as a result I was feeling fitter than I had for years.

There followed several weeks and months of the most comprehensive tests, including blood, X-rays, ultrasound echocardiogram, renogram, nuclear medicine kidney test (which turned out not to be as frightening as it sounded), physical examinations, clinical psychological analysis and then, inevitably, more blood tests. The appointment with the consultant transplant surgeon who would be performing my operation was particularly useful and very reassuring; he explained the exact procedure he would follow and the reasons why. It would be the left kidney and the operation would be hand-assisted. I found it somewhat strange to be undergoing so many tests and examinations when there was nothing wrong with me, but it did bring home to me the complexity of the procedure and the wide range of skills and expertise of the team of people involved. Finally there was an appointment with the local representative of the Human Tissue Authority. Throughout this time I was most impressed by the professional, open and friendly approach of everybody involved, especially my local co-ordinator, who was most supportive in keeping us up to date and fully in the picture.

Finding a match

In September, I was told that a potential good match had been found and a date for the transplant operations was agreed, the eve of my 67th birthday!

This called for more blood so that further matching tests could be carried out with the intended recipient’s blood.

Up to this time, I had not told many people about what I was doing, only close family and friends and, as I would need some time off, one or two colleagues and officials at the local magistrates’ court where I sit as a voluntary lay magistrate. It therefore came as a big surprise when just a week before the operation an old acquaintance I had not seen for some time called to see me. She had brought me a present and wanted to wish me good luck for the operation. I suddenly remembered that her brother had received a kidney transplant many years before, but I was still a bit miffed that she had heard about what I was doing. She explained she had been told by one of our closest friends, who she happened to be working with, because two years earlier she had donated a kidney to her brother; his original transplanted kidney had started to fail after 20-odd years.

The present was a copy of a small book entitled Blue Pyjamas, which she had written and had privately printed to tell the story about her kidney donation. It was a great help and comfort for my wife and me to be able to sit down and talk to someone we knew who had been through the experience. Reading the book was most useful, as it dealt with a lot of the personal feelings and concerns that I was privately thinking about. I would recommend it to anyone considering kidney donation, altruistic or otherwise (www.bluepyjamas.com). Finishing the book, I was relieved that I was donating altruistically and I did not know anything about the recipient; they were remote and, therefore, I was not emotionally involved. It was nothing like the additional stress that my friend had felt for her brother and his young family.

It seems to me that it would be relatively simple to set up a database of all donors who agree to discuss kidney donation with a potential new donor. The local co-ordinator could then quickly identify an ex-donor who was local to the potential new donor. Talking to a friend and knowing I could easily contact her was a real comfort.

The operation and recovery

By the time my wife and I arrived at the hospital on the day of the operation, I felt totally relaxed. Having had the meeting with the surgeon, I knew exactly what was going to happen. In the reception area, we were delighted to be visited by my local co-ordinator, who reassured my wife that she would keep her in touch with developments during the day. Because of the friendly, open and highly professional attitude of the entire team that I had met, I was completely confident I was in the best possible hands.

After the operation, recovering in a small ward of four beds, I was surprised at the low level of pain that I was feeling; the main problem was the feeling of nausea, presumably as a result of the anaesthetic, which did take a few days to wear off completely. Throughout my stay, I was seen by my local co-ordinator and my consultant transplant surgeon every day.

On the second day, the surgeon told me he had heard from the recipient’s surgical team – the operation had gone well and the kidney appeared to be working well, the best possible news I could have heard. Suddenly and unexpectedly, I felt very emotional and, when told that, on recovery, the recipient had immediately asked after me, I found it difficult to hold back the tears – so much for being remote and not emotionally involved.

I was very fortunate in that my stay in hospital was not very long; the operation had taken place first thing on a Tuesday morning and I was discharged just after lunch on the Friday. The level of care and attention I received from the nursing staff and doctors cannot be faulted. One thing about the stay in hospital that would have made a huge difference would have been the option of a private room. It was a busy area and I found it difficult to get much sleep.

There was also the issue of privacy; the very nature of altruistic donation is that you don’t talk about it very much – the last thing you want is for people to think you are showing off or on a personal glory mission. It is almost impossible in a general ward not to overhear conversations between medical staff and other patients, and in my case a registrar doing his rounds asked me in front of other patients why I had donated a kidney.

A little privacy would also have helped in coming to terms with the emotional aspects. On a lighter note, a private room would have avoided my concern on the last morning in hospital; during the night I was moved to another unit and in the early morning, as screens were pulled back and the ward lights slowly illuminated the scene, I saw that the patient directly opposite was lying in bed handcuffed to two prison warders. He had been admitted from a local prison but fortunately was not one of my previous customers from the magistrates’ court!

We got home about teatime on the Friday and I went straight to bed; back in the peace and quiet of my home I slept for 10 of the next 14 hours. By lunchtime on Sunday, I felt completely clear of any feeling of nausea and had only a slight discomfort from the surgical wound, so decided to take a short walk. Thereafter, I managed to walk a bit further each day despite the weather; in about three weeks, I felt completely back to normal and it was about then that I saw the consultant transplant surgeon, who signed me off.

Shortly afterwards, I received, via my local co-ordinator, a letter from the recipient. This was obviously very moving, but the thing that really struck home was how quickly their life had changed, especially all those little aspects of our daily routine that, if you are not on dialysis, you take completely for granted – but I am sure I won’t ever again.

Increasing rates of donation

One thing I don’t understand is why we still have such a long list of people awaiting kidney donation. Using some unresearched ballpark figures and assuming there are about 7500 people on the waiting list, another 15,000 who would benefit from a transplant, and a UK population of 60 million, there should be more than enough donors.

Assuming that half the population is either too old or too young to donate and that two-thirds of the remaining have family or other commitments precluding them from donation, and three-quarters of this subsequent remainder are non-compatible or are precluded for medical reasons, we are left with about 2.5 million potential donors. That means only about one in 200 need come forward to satisfy the list.

This leads to the question of why they are not coming forward. I think there are two main reasons for this. First, partly because of the need for strict confidentiality, there is a bit of a mystique about altruistic donation and lack of knowledge leads many people to believe it is an extraordinary thing to do. It is an important decision to make: there are inconveniences and there are risks, but these are no greater than many aspects of our busy daily lives. Also, taking into account modern surgical and nursing techniques, it is not the big deal many people think.

Not enough people know about altruistic donation

Second, poor communication means that the right messages are not getting through to the potential donor community; I was very surprised to find that at least three healthcare professionals I had contact with during the assessment and hospitalization stages were totally unaware that altruistic donation was legally possible.

This is why I have agreed to write this article and why I have agreed to contribute to the academic research project “Understanding the social and psychological processes in altruistic kidney donation”. I also feel that the government should be more proactive; getting teenagers to tick a box on a driving licence application form and vague promises of some Nectar points falls woefully below what is required and is an insult to the thousands patiently waiting on the list.

Finally, it has not all been about donation; I have personally received much from the experience in addition to the knowledge that I have helped improve the quality of life of someone else. Perhaps the greatest thing is a feeling of privilege and gratitude for having been able to contribute to the work of the transplant teams who are doing this amazing work, week in and week out.

“The experience has changed my outlook on life”

Jenny Dale, aged 46, a crime scene investigator from Dorset, gave a kidney in 2011

I had never had any connection with anyone with kidney failure or anything to do with organ transplants. I happened to see a news article about a three-way paired kidney donation, and the article mentioned altruistic kidney donation. At this stage I didn’t even know what altruistic kidney donation meant. I looked it up and discovered that it meant someone donating a kidney to a stranger. I had no idea that this was even possible and had never heard of anyone doing it, yet I knew immediately that this was something I felt I might be able to do. I found the website for the Human Tissue Authority (HTA) and telephoned them to ask how I might go about finding out about how to become a kidney donor.

The HTA put me onto my nearest transplant centre and gave me the contact details for the transplant nurse co-ordinators at the transplant centre (over two hours’ drive away) and a satellite centre about an hour’s drive from me. I initially made contact with the main transplant centre and was asked to write a letter explaining why I was interested in donating a kidney.

Seeing someone on the waiting list for a transplant made me want to give

In my initial letter I told them that I used to be a blood donor until a blood transfusion stopped me from being allowed to donate blood any more. I also had contact with twin brothers who both had a liver condition, which meant that one had just had a liver transplant and the other was on the waiting list for one. Seeing the effect on the families of someone living on the organ transplant waiting list made me want to do something for someone else while I could if I was healthy enough.

Within a month of sending my letter I had my initial appointment with the transplant nurse co-ordinator and the transplant surgeon. The reason I was seen by the surgeon in the initial stages of my assessment was in case previous surgical complications might mean I was not suitable for further surgery.

At this initial appointment I was told that my previous surgery complications would not automatically bar me from donating a kidney but that, if it got to the point of donation, I would probably have to have open surgery rather than laparoscopic (“keyhole”) surgery. I had some blood tests and was given leaflets and information about kidney donation. By this point, I had done a fair amount of research and was determined that, if at all possible, I would like to change one life and give a kidney away. I was happy with the research I had done, and, if I passed all the medical tests, I was confident that I would be able to function on one kidney for the rest of my life.

The preliminaries

A few weeks later I saw the local transplant co-ordinator and had a second set of blood tests. I also saw the renal psychologist and went through my reasons for wanting to donate a kidney, along with chatting in general about my psychological health, childhood, etc. I did feel that I was more worried about seeing a psychologist and having my mind probed than I was about the numerous medical tests which involved having my body probed!

Eight weeks after this appointment I then saw a nephrologist at my local hospital. As I understood it, her job was to make sure that I was medically fit to proceed with the next lot of investigations into my kidney health. I had a chest X-ray and ECG that day and was told that I would be fine to progress to the next stage of investigations.

Within a few weeks I had appointments for the renal dynamic scan, GFR (glomerular filtration rate – which measures how efficiently the kidneys filter the blood) and ultrasound. All these tests were done at my local hospital.

A setback

The renal dynamic scan appeared to throw up a possible problem. The right kidney’s uptake of the isotope was good but it needed an injection of diuretic to kickstart it into excreting the isotope. The radiographer wrote a report stating there was a possible “PUJO”. I had to look this up to discover it meant a “pelvi-ureteric junction obstruction”. A few days after this appointment I had a telephone call from the transplant co-ordinator to say that there appeared to be a problem with my right kidney. I was told not to worry but that I may be referred back to the nephrologist to have this investigated and that it might mean the end of my hopes to become a kidney donor. The GFR result was good, showing a GFR of 86, which was fine for donation, but the ultrasound also showed scarring on the edge of the right kidney.

By this time I felt that my chances of donating a kidney were fast disappearing. I was trying not to be too disappointed, reminding myself that if I were donating to someone in my family or a friend it would be much worse emotionally. At this point, there was no actual person on the other end, so no-one was going to be disappointed apart from myself.

On the move again

After hearing nothing for a few weeks, I then had an email to say that the surgeon had reviewed all my scan results. The scarring on the kidney turned out to be nothing more than a slight misshape of the cortex when the kidney was being formed. The surgeon was happy to take my right kidney, so things were on the move again. I was very excited to find that I may be donating a kidney after all, even though I had to remind myself I still had a few tests to go.

Another month went by and I was sent to see the local nephrologist again. This was so that I could be cleared for the final stage of investigations. He reviewed everything that had been done so far and agreed that it would be best to take my right kidney. He then referred me back to the transplant surgeon. By this stage it was six months since I had my first appointment with the surgeon at the very beginning of this journey.

The appointment for the final test, the CT angiogram, came through within a few weeks, and it was back to the main transplant centre for that. The CT angiogram was all clear, and there was just the question of why the renal dynamic scan had showed a possible obstruction three months before.

At an appointment the following month, the surgeon decided to consult with a radiologist as to which test to do to find out once and for all if there was any problem with the right kidney. The vein on the right kidney was very short, which might make removing and transplanting it difficult. He suggested a test called an IVU (intravenous urogram) scan, and they would let me know if and when this might happen.

It was later decided that I would have a repeat of the test taken three months ago at my local hospital (the renal dynamic scan). This time it would be done at the transplant centre.

Seeing the independent assessor

The same day that I saw the surgeon, I also saw an independent assessor. Her job was to make sure that I fully understood the risks I was taking in offering to donate a kidney and to check my motives. She also had to see proof of my identity. After half an hour’s chat, she said she would write her report the next day but that there would be nothing detrimental in it which might make the HTA refuse to allow me to donate. The HTA panel’s approval came through two weeks later. I walked round that day with a big smile on my face. One more hurdle to go, the repeat renal dynamic scan, and I was closer than ever to my goal.

Finally, nine months after my first appointment, I had the repeat scan. By this time, after changing their minds several times about which kidney to take and which one I would keep, it had been decided that they would only take the right kidney or none at all. This meant that if the final scan showed any problem, I would still not be able to donate, after getting so close.

It was not long before I had the final test repeated. I was told to ring four days later when the surgeons would have been able to review the scan results. That was a long wait, and I was on tenterhooks when I phoned that day. The news was the best I could have hoped for: the surgeons were very happy with the scan results and would take my right kidney (despite the short vein). I was to be put into the database the very next day and would be contacted as soon as they had a potential match.

My details go on a database to find a match

Finally, after 10 months of assessments, I knew that I was going to donate a kidney. I can’t describe the feeling of elation after all this time, to know that someone out there was one day soon going to have my kidney. It was the most incredible feeling in the world.
Things moved pretty quickly after that. I was soon matched with a kidney patient. Our blood cross-match test was negative (which meant we were compatible), but unfortunately the patient fell ill and was unable to undergo the operation. I was very upset when I heard, as I had not expected this to happen. I was put back in for another match straight away, and was matched with another patient. Again, blood samples were taken for cross-matching, and we were a negative cross-match, meaning that this time it could all go ahead.

Surgery was booked for both of us for about four weeks ahead. Life seemed to go on hold after the previous few weeks of blood tests, phone calls and emails. It felt very strange going to work and living as normal, knowing what was about to happen.

But those few weeks flew by, and before I knew it I was in the hospital being prepared for surgery.

Operation day

On the day of the surgery, I was surprised to find I wasn’t nervous about what was going to happen. The medical team were really lovely and reassuring. I was asked yet again while in the anaesthetic room whether I wanted to back out. I told them to just put me to sleep and go ahead! I woke up in the recovery room and was told that my kidney was out and on its way to its destination. A few hours later I was told that the kidney had arrived safely and was in its new owner and producing urine. It was the most surreal thing I have ever been told. It made the whole process so worthwhile. I could hardly believe that, after all this time, the kidney was finally in someone else and working.

I had quite a difficult nine days in hospital after the kidney removal, which was challenging at times. I had open surgery, which took a while to recover from, but six weeks after the operation I am at home, doing really well, and would not know that I only had one kidney (apart from the 9 inch scar across my ribs). I have heard from the hospital that the recipient is doing really well, which is brilliant news.

I feel I have gained a huge amount from the experience

The whole experience was the most amazing and eye-opening time of my life. I have made what I hope are lifelong friends in the hospital, both kidney donors and recipients  The experience has changed my outlook in life and made me appreciate my health, my family and my life in general. I feel that I have gained a huge amount from the whole experience and, despite finding the surgery and subsequent stay in hospital quite challenging and difficult at times, would not change a thing. I wish I could put into a few words how rewarding it was and how privileged and humbled I feel at being allowed to be an altruistic kidney donor.