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My Father was diagnosed with kidney disease in 2020. By the summer of 2021, he had been on dialysis for a year, and it was running his life and draining both him and my mother.

Dad had a conference call with me and my six brothers. He said that he would like to have a kidney donated, though at his age he was unlikely to get one if he waited on the list. Fortunately for him, mom did a great job raising us, and all seven of us volunteered.

Over those next months, all were eliminated for various reasons except for me. Despite my poor choices in my 20’s, apparently there was still a need for my body to be used to help others! My wife didn’t flinch, and my kids were supportive. Operation Kidney Cut was a go in our house.

We had a date set for late November. My job was made aware, and I had PTO banked to make it work.

My wife had time off work scheduled, all six of our kids ready to stay in others’ homes for a few nights. I went under anesthesia on October 25 and woke up – with both kidneys still intact?!? Over the prior months, as my dad stopped taking his drugs for blood pressure and other supplements under his doctors’ directions, everyone, from Hume-Lee, Davita, and his regular kidney specialist missed his plummeting hemoglobin count. It was under the threshold on our transplant date, so the procedure was rescheduled.

After the first of the year, 2023, my Dad received one of my kidneys. He is a picture of both of us post kidney transplant.