A Daughter’s Gift for Father’s
Day
It was the summer of 2003 when my father was diagnosed with cancer in his
right kidney. My father has struggled with his kidney disease my whole life, but
this was unexpected. At the time of his diagnosis I was only seventeen, but I
already knew what I had to do. I didn’t know if our blood types matched or if I
was even a good candidate, but I was determined to find out. My father protested
saying that’s not how it’s suppose to work, the child doesn’t take care of the
parent. So he went on the donor waiting list and we enlisted help from our
family members to find a donor. After a year of searching and testing we had no
success. By then it was my senior year of high school and I had turned eighteen.
It was finally my decision and I TOLD my father that I was going to give him my
kidney. As soon as I could, I made an appointment at Mayo Clinic to get
tested.
It was March 2005 when I began the vigorous process of testing to
becoming a donor. I not only had to get physically tested, but psychologically
tested also. They had to make sure my father wasn’t pressuring me to help him. I
told them it was the exact opposite; I wanted to do this for him because I love
him too much not to have him here with us. After the two day testing process, I
had an appointment with the doctor who would perform the surgery. He told me I
was a perfect match for my father. I was ecstatic! He then added this was the
last chance for me to stop the donation process; they would tell my family that
I was unable to donate due to medical reasons if that’s what I chose. I told
them the same thing I said from the beginning; I’m donating my kidney to my
father!
The transplant was scheduled for June 2005, after I graduated high
school. My family had a lot of preparing to do for the surgeries. We held
fundraisers and donation collections to help offset the expenses of the
transplant. We also had our living wills drawn up in case something happened
during the surgery. I shared my wishes of life after death with my family, and
they fully supported my decision. Everything was in order and set for June 14,
2005.
It was an early Thursday morning when I checked into the surgical floor
at Mayo Clinic. I hugged my parents goodbye before I left to be prepped for
surgery. This was only my second time having a surgery, so I was a little
nervous. After I changed into my hospital gown and climbed into the bed, they
wheeled me into the surgical waiting room where I got to see my father one last
time before the surgery. Most people don’t get this opportunity before surgery,
but we were lucky.
My recovery went well, other than the fact that it hurt to laugh and my
sister refused to change the TV from a comedy standup program. On my first day
of recovery, I walked down to my father’s room to see how he was doing. He was
weak and pale, but he was in good spirits. A few days later, he was able to get
out of his room and visit with family in the lounge. My family and friends came
to visit on Sunday, Father’s Day. The Aberdeen American News wrote an article
about our unique story for Father’s Day. We all gathered around and read the
article together and this was the first and only time that I have ever seen my
father cry. It was a precious moment shared between my father and me that I will
never forget. I am glad that I had supportive family and friends to share in
this important time in our lives.
All of us have been doing great since the transplant. Our lives have
changed for the better and I am grateful to have my father with me still today.
I don’t know what my life would be like if it wasn’t for this amazing gift of
life.
Samantha Huber, April 13, 2012
Organ Donation: You can make a
difference
