Gift of a kidney transplant bonds two strangers

[okarol]

Gift of a kidney transplant bonds two strangers
By DOUG HOAGLAND MCCLATCHY NEWSPAPERS
Feb. 20, 2009, 3:31PM

FRESNO, CALIF. — Robb Culp believed God was leading him to donate a kidney to Carlos Esqueda even though the two Fresno, Calif., men were virtual strangers who had only one thing in common: an uncommon faith.

Culp teaches chemistry at Fresno City College. Esqueda used to sell illegal drugs. Esqueda, an extrovert, comes from a big boisterous family, while the introverted Culp was adopted and doesn’t know much about his birth family.

Theirs is a story of Christian love, of two pasts haunted by trouble and a deepening bond of brotherhood.

“I’ve never met any man like Robb,” said Esqueda, 48. “He laid down his life for me.”

Culp, 53, said he had come to a point where his relationships with others and his faith in God mattered most.

As Culp stepped forward to help Esqueda, each man faced questions. How could Culp be sure it was God leading him to undergo an operation that would leave him with a 5-inch scar below his navel? And why did Esqueda need Culp’s sacrifice when he had siblings who might have been donors?

You could say that Culp’s decision to donate began when his first wife died after Thanksgiving in 1999.

Culp awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of his wife gagging. Culp called 911. Paramedics came. But Johanna Culp died. The Fresno County Coroner’s Office said the cause was complications of heart disease.

Culp, who later remarried, said he decided he would never again ignore a chance to help another person.

Esqueda passed that same Thanksgiving in state prison on drug charges — the culmination of a dissipated life that began in his teenage years and continued for two decades.

He was in and out of the Fresno County Jail several times on drug and other charges, had a jailhouse conversion to Christianity, but got involved in drugs again and landed in state prison in 1998.

Four years in prison gave him time to look inside himself, he said: “The Lord made me think about a lot of things.”

He got out of prison with stronger faith, but a weakened body. He had high blood pressure and took medication but stopped when he believed incorrectly that he was cured.

In 2006, Esqueda wound up in a hospital emergency room, where doctors said his two kidneys were functioning at 10 percent of normal. The organs’ failure was allowing toxins to build up, which made Esqueda sick and could have killed him.

Esqueda blames the untreated high blood pressure for damaging his kidneys. But he also used methamphetamine before going to prison, and research shows the drug can increase blood pressure.

He started dialysis treatment, but he wasn’t always the best patient — sometimes eating rich, greasy foods that added to his problems.

He sometimes talked about his problems at a men’s breakfast and Bible study in Easton, Calif.

Culp attended, too, but the two men were not friends.

“These are two people who would never have met in a million years,” said the Rev. Paul Demant, pastor of the Lutheran church that hosts the breakfast.

Culp sat at the breakfast with his Presbyterian friends; Esqueda usually was across the room with his father and a pastor from a small Pentecostal congregation.

One day in November 2007, the usually gregarious Esqueda sounded depressed as he gave a progress report about his health at the breakfast. He needed a kidney.

Culp said he listened to Esqueda, and seemingly out of nowhere a thought came to him: I should donate a kidney.

For five months — from late 2007 into the spring of 2008 — Culp uttered the same prayer: “Lord, I need to know this isn’t my whim; that it’s something I’m supposed to do.”

Culp got a response, but not in words he could hear. Instead, he said, the answer came in a growing conviction that God’s will would be revealed by events soon to play out. All he had to do was wait.

Meanwhile, Esqueda chose to believe God would help him as, one by one, his brothers and sister said they couldn’t give him a kidney. Some had health problems of their own or feared surgery, he said.

“In the long run, we can’t stop God’s plan,” Esqueda said. “By my family not giving me a kidney, it gave Robb a chance to donate.”

As Culp was praying whether to donate, Esqueda was experiencing physical and emotional pain. One day, he said, he dropped to his knees in his bedroom, where he had two pictures of Jesus on the walls and a silver-and-black Oakland Raiders football atop his television set.

He cried for several hours and prayed: “You know, God, that I’ve been waiting patiently.” He asked for relief from his suffering.

Culp was nearly ready to talk to Esqueda.

One morning in May 2008 at the men’s breakfast and Bible study, Culp stood in line to get scrambled eggs. He tapped Esqueda on the shoulder and said, “I want to test for you.”

Esqueda said casually that he would find out what Culp needed to do, but his mind shouted something else: This is from God!

Blood tests revealed that Culp and Esqueda were, indeed, compatible for a transplant.

Esqueda, who had been on a transplant list for more than one year when Culp approached him, could have waited many more years to receive a kidney, Esqueda’s surgeon Dr. Sang-Mo Kang said.

Through the tests, surgery and recovery, a deep friendship took root.

“Our relationship isn’t through a kidney,” Culp said. “Our relationship developed because of a kidney.”

On Sept. 18, Esqueda and Culp were wheeled into surgery. Kang made four half-inch incisions in Culp’s abdomen to surgically free one of the kidneys. The surgeon then made a horizontal incision so he could remove the organ. It went immediately into Esqueda.

The transplant operations cost about $300,000, which Esqueda said was covered by his Medi-Cal and Medicare insurance. Culp said he paid about $2,000 to cover expenses for him, his wife and Esqueda on trips to San Francisco. Members of the men’s Bible study also gave Esqueda travel money.

After recuperating, Culp returned to teaching at City College in November. Esqueda, who stopped working as an auto detailer when he got sick, has not gone back to work.

Since the operation, their relationship has become so comfortable that Esqueda doesn’t bother to knock when he comes over to Culp’s house. The two men take long walks in the country, and Culp throws his arm around Esqueda’s shoulder without thinking.

The quiet Culps and boisterous Esquedas spent Thanksgiving and Christmas together. “Now they’re part of the family,” said Esqueda’s brother, Armando. “Robb’s a giver, that’s for sure.”

A year ago, Culp and Carlos Esqueda had not had a meaningful conversation. Now they consider themselves brothers.

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/life/religion/6273207.html