Readers share their stories of how organ transplants affected their lives

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'Everyone has the potential of giving the gift of life'
STORIES FROM OUR READERS
The Dispatch recently invited readers to share their stories of how organ transplants have affected their lives.

Some wrote about how they gave an organ to a loved one or how a loved one has benefited through organ donation. And others, sadly, lost someone close to them - someone who was able to make a difference in the lives of those who received the gifts of life.

Here are their stories:

Longest-surviving kidney donor

My personal story of organ donation is one which for many years I tried to forget and didn't want to talk about. However, in recent years, after much personal reflection, and with organ transplantation becoming increasingly common, I feel more comfortable sharing my experiences and thoughts.

I am a kidney donor for my father and reportedly the oldest living kidney donor from the University of Minnesota (41 years). I frequently go through studies at the university for the purpose of determining long-term effects of living with one kidney. Glomerular filtration tests have been repeated every five years for this purpose. The significance of me as a case study is not that people necessarily shorten their life span by donating a kidney, but typically older people donate to family members, where I did it at the young age of 24. Research has shown that a person can live a normal lifestyle with one kidney. It may in fact motivate a concerted healthy lifestyle of non-smoking and good exercise and nutrition. Thus is the case with me and how organ donation has positively affected my life.

My experience began in 1972 when my father was diagnosed with complete kidney failure, had both his kidneys removed, and was living on dialysis. He had suffered a heart attack several years previous that left him with some residual heart damage. As a result, dialysis put a strain on his heart that made the process high risk. He teetered at the point where uric poisoning would kill him or risk going on dialysis to bring his count down just low enough so that wouldn't. I felt it was my responsibility as his son to try to save him. At 56 years old, he was low on the priority list for a cadaver kidney.

When I first informed my father of my intention to donate, he absolutely refused to let me. I told him he had made or attempted to make decisions for me most of my life and that this one was mine alone. He asked what if it didn't work or if I or he didn't make it through the surgery. Transplantation was in its experimental stages back then and there were some risks. I reminded him of his words to me when he borrowed money for me to first start college. I had asked, What if I don't make it? He said, If you don't, it is OK because I will know you tried your best, but you have to try. What psychology! How could I let him down! I reminded him that the same principle applied here and if we don't make it, I will know we tried our best. I made it clear to him at this time I was not doing this for any gratitude or to prove my courage or love for him. I was doing it because it was simply the right thing to do.

In going through the work-up, we found that our blood and tissue type were a perfect match. I also passed extensive psychological testing to ensure I could mentally handle the process. My wife, Barb, supported my decision, which coupled with my faith in God, helped greatly. However, the possibility of leaving behind two small sons if something went wrong was almost unbearable.

As a young teacher in the Brainerd School District, I was called out of class on a Wednesday afternoon in September and told the time is now. I was in the middle of the football season as the ninth-grade head football coach, so hurriedly met with my team and assured them I would be back in a few days. My capable assistant coach, Lynn Harker, was to assume all responsibilities.

The night before my surgery was the most difficult time for me. I drew upon the comparative experience of toughing out the last 50 meters of the 400-meter dash to stay under 50 seconds, to make it to surgery the next morning. I fully realized at that time how experiences in athletics may truly parallel life.

By Wednesday of the following week I was back in school - walking bent over and sideways. Surgery was much more invasive back then and I was cut exactly in half, from my bellybutton to my backbone. The surgery technique for a donor today is to only make a small vertical incision in the abdomen. By Friday of that week, I was back on the football field. This is a prime example of how when one is young, they think they are invincible.

I continued to coach three sports seasons per year for 30-plus years in the Brainerd School District and have continued to officiate high school sports for more than 40 years. In 2004, I was selected as the head starter in track and field for the 50th anniversary of the U.S. Transplant Games - the first donor or recipient to be a head official in the history of the games. I dedicated this effort to the memory of my father.

My father lived 11 years after the transplant without having as much as one sick day. He died suddenly of a heart attack in 1983, completely unrelated to kidney function. He was able to continue to perform the work duties of a police chief for five of those years, and then enjoy retirement for six more years.

Given the choice, would I do it again? Yes, in a heartbeat! While at the University of Minnesota hospital, I observed many people living on the edge of despair and hope. It seemed to me that hope was the better option. Dr. John Najarian, my surgeon, asked me to speak with several families in these circumstances and I did. Meaningful to me also had been the personal daily visits to my hospital room by Tony Oliva of the Minnesota Twins, including on game days.

My present wish and appeal is for everyone to consider having the donor designation placed on their driver's license the next time they renew it.

Life is precious. Everyone has the potential of giving the gift of life through organ donation. Living donors also can lead a normal life. I have, and am. - Joe Rezac, Baxter.

The rest of the story

The request for transplant stories is the push I needed to tell the rest of the story, so to speak. On Easter Sunday in 2007, you published a story on our daughter, Vindy, and my husband, Marv, who were to undergo a live donor transplant the next day, April 9. It is a day that will forever live in our family as a life-changing day. My emotions ran high as our family spent that Sunday together after attending church together where our pastor ended the service with prayer for our entire family. We celebrated Vindy's and Darrell's daughter's fifth birthday and the sacrifice of our Savior, knowing the sacrifice Vindy was to go through to give her dad a better quality of life.

Dialysis is a wonderful thing to extend life and we have nothing but praise for the wonderful care he received during the three-day-a-week process he went through for three-and-a-half years, but being tied down to that schedule, plus the toll it takes on the body is difficult. Many times he would come home and spend time recuperating for the next session.

We, as an entire family, traveled to Abbott Northwestern Hospital early (4 a.m.) the next morning, and there is no way to describe the feelings of seeing two of my loved ones waiting in adjoining pre-surgery rooms for this life-changing surgery. Yet there was a peace that only God can give that told me this was going to go well. My husband had a quadruple bypass in 2003 that was being closely monitored as well.

Our daughter went in first and her surgery started to make sure her kidney was fine and able to still be used. It was, and my husband followed 45 minutes later. As two of our church pastors walked in to join our family, we retreated to a family waiting room. In about three hours the word came that our daughter was being taken to recovery and doing fine, and that everything was progressing well in my husband's surgery.


   



Vindy Pulak (left), who donated a kidney to her father, Marv Millam, in 2007, are shown going out to dinner to celebrate their first anniversary in 2008, something they plan to do each year to mark the day she gave her father the gift of life.


   
More waiting and finally we were told that both were in recovery and responding very well. We were finally able to see both of them in mid-afternoon. The saying give till it hurts is so true in a donor situation. Our daughter was in much pain for several days, but has never regretted the decision to give the gift to her dad. He amazingly never had any pain and being there the first time we wheeled her in his room and they saw each other had us all in tears of joy! In the previous story there were things he said he wanted to be able to do if the transplant went well. They both recovered great and life has new meaning for him.

What has it meant to him and our family? The Florida daughter we had not seen in over three years came for a visit, the long-awaited trip to Arizona to spend time with a brother, a sister and a cousin who snowbird there. I am enclosing a picture of the two of them in shirts she found for their first anniversary as they went out to a special dinner, a date they plan to do for many years to come. The doctors said their match was one of the most near perfect they had seen and though he is on anti-rejection meds for the rest of his life, he has had no episodes of the body trying to reject the kidney, which they had told us might occur.

He still has diabetes which still causes some problems, including the amputation of some toes this year but the kidney held up well through the latest problem. Vindy has passed all of her tests and since she always wanted a third child, the doctors said she was fine and we are now awaiting any day the arrival of that little one who also will have the privilege of knowing his or her grandpa. If anyone is considering being a donor, it truly is a gift.

It took from August to April for them to go through all the tests and things to get ready for the actual transplant to take place, but really worth it for the person who receives a new lease on quality of life. A doctor told me after the transplant that cadaver donors are great so don't forget that way of giving a gift of life, but said there is nothing as good as a live donor where the organ has not gone through trauma and especially a relative who is such a close match as they were. We thank God daily for the change it has made for Marv and also for the great family we have who is such a good help when we need it. If this in any way helps anyone make a life-changing decision, we would love to hear about it. Thank you for letting us share our story with you. - Lorrie Millam.

An ultimate sacrifice

Growing up with five brothers and me being the youngest, my oldest brother, Don, nine years my senior, really wasn't able to spend a lot of time doing much with me. Chalk it up to our age difference.

Don joined the Navy when I was in early grade school and from that point on I was only around him on rare occasions, but I remember being very proud of how he chose to face naval challenges of which I couldn't begin to dream. Submarines were his bag and his spending a winter in Antarctica fascinated me to no end.

I've always thought of Don as a rock, a man not large in stature, but by far a man his friends and family could count on and certainly a much bigger person than his 6-foot-1-inch frame and solid slight build would ever lend credence to.

Don lived in the Puget Sound area and I in Brainerd with an exception of Denver for five years during my 20s. We still had that brotherly bond I like to think of today as a literal lifesaving bond. Here's why.

I contracted diabetes at age 15 and my life as I knew it changed forever. I heard all the warnings and was provided with the information I required to manage my condition, but for some strange reason - call it being a teenager -apparently convinced me all the warnings I heard somehow wouldn't apply to me.

In 1989 I returned from Denver; my diabetes out of control and I was in very poor health. With angels on their shoulders my wonderful parents considered me worthy of saving so they once again took on the challenge of providing me with parental care.

I noticed a spot on the TV and followed up with a visit to the Twin Cities to have tests on my retinas, which are the part of the eyes diabetes hits hardest. The first six months of 1990 consisted of several visits to the Twin Cities where I underwent eye laser treatments in order to cauterize the hemorrhaging in my retinas.

The laser treatments were unsuccessful and my eyesight failed. By the middle of 1990 I was completely blind and spent the next few years learning how to cope and adjust to a life in the dark while still endeavoring to control my diabetes.

Following an appendectomy, subsequent peritonitis and a three-week stay in St. Joseph's, I learned in June of 1993 my kidneys were suffering from the adverse affects of diabetes and I was informed I would probably be facing the need for dialysis or possibly even a transplant within five years.

I continued struggling with diabetes for the next dozen years and regularly visited doctors. My nephrologists (kidney specialists) told me in 2004 I should begin inquiries from family and friends of potential kidney donors. I made it well beyond the initial five-year window my nephrologists gave me, but how does one ask another for a kidney?

After all the medical difficulties I'd faced up to that point I was staggered by the thought.

I had already been dealing with diabetes for close to 30 years and suffered from neuropathy, circulation problems, bowel and digestive problems, diabetic kidney disease and not to mention going blind. Whatever was I going to do?

Don nearly jumped on the next plane from Washington and on Aug. 12 he made what I would call one of the largest sacrifices a person can make for another. On Aug. 12, 2005, he gave me one of his kidneys!

I made it over that hurdle without difficulty and Don was awesome. He still requires regular checks of his renal system, but when I said I've always thought of Don as a rock, well this man is granite!

The next thing I truly required was a pancreas, not only to rid me of the diabetes and to aid me in securing my overall health, but also to prevent the diabetes from further damaging my new kidney.

I was placed on a wait list for a new pancreas in March of 2006. Two weeks later I was called and was told there was a pancreas available, but it wasn't a very good match. I was given an option to either try it or I could turn it down.

Turning it down could mean a long wait of undeterminable amount of time.

I turned it down and essentially rolled the dice.

Less than two weeks later on Sunday, April 9, I got a call around 5 p.m. and one hour later my mother was behind the wheel driving me to Fairview University Hospital.

The morning of April 10 I underwent a pancreas transplant where I received a pancreas from a deceased donor. She was a 40-ish woman from the Kansas City area that was killed in an auto accident.

I have subsequently sent a letter of gratitude to the woman's family, but I know nothing more of her and every day I'm left wondering of her with utmost appreciation of her decision to advocate organ donations.

Within two months I was entirely off insulin and no longer required checking my blood glucose and no worries any more of suffering from insulin reactions or low blood sugars.

Over the years I experienced countless bouts of hypoglycemia and cannot begin to explain the embarrassments I shouldered. One of these bouts I experienced even left me in trouble with the legal system.

If a person doesn't know anybody that deals with this miserable condition and the difficulties insulin dependent diabetics face daily, their understanding of what a fantastic relief it is to not have to worry anymore about taking the correct amount of insulin, getting proper exercise and eating properly probably doesn't mean too much to them.

Mere words cannot by themselves come close to expressing my utmost appreciation and gratitude, not only to my brother for making the ultimate sacrifice, but also to the family and friends of the unknown woman whose life-ending tragedy has given me a chance to protect my brother's gift. The gifts of organs I've received have also allowed me freedom from having to deal with on a daily basis the challenges of diabetes and the harmful effects diabetes has on the body.

My hope is that every person in need of any organ will be blessed with graciousness and unselfishness to the degree I have and that people will open up their hearts to those in dire need of any organ that's potentially available to be donated. - Jeff Czeczok, Brainerd.

A sister lives on

My beautiful sister's life was taken in a random act of violence May of 2004.

She left two daughters, eight grandchildren, mother and siblings, not to mention many friends.

A day does not go by we do not miss and love her. A smile that flowed and a laughter heard around the world.

Through her unselfishness and want to help, she had become an organ donor.

To the 7-year-old sightless boy, sight.

To the 24-year-old nurse existing on dialysis, her kidney.

To the ailing father and grandfather, her heart.

To the 40-year-old gentleman, her liver.

To the countless number of severely burned children, patches of skin to aid in the healing of their wounds.

Through all of these people my sister lives on because she had the foresight to become an organ donor and we feel her spirit and love projects this.

Please. If you are considering or have just learned of this amazing process do not hesitate to become a donor. Do it now! We are honored her gifts are making a life difference in so many other people. We believe that not only does God want us to live through him but he has allowed us the knowledge and talents to live through others.

We love you Sandra. Miss ya girl! - Norma Jean Nelson, Brainerd.

Someone's daughter, our hero

On Feb. 21, on a cold day in Chicago, a mom makes the decision to remove her 16-year-old daughter, Rachael, an honor student, from the respiratory machine. Next she makes the decision for her daughter to be a hero. A hero to someone somewhere they don't even know. She donates her daughters organs to help others. That decision brought Rachael's heart to the University of Minnesota, to my wife, Sonja (Carlson) Sitzman.

On Feb. 22, that mom's decision brought a new life to my family, as Sonja began breathing on her own, with Rachael's heart. That decision brought a lot of relief, answers, joy and sadness. We no longer, after three years of waiting and four false calls for a heart, have to make medical decisions that may have forced our family to move. After watching a friend die because she wasn't able to receive the gift of a new heart, it answered our question, would Sonja fall into the same situation as our friend. Leaving my son without a mom, me without my wife. While we are overjoyed to have Sonja with us with a new life, we have a sadness in our hearts for Rachael's family, as they lost someone special. We have planted an apple tree in Rachael's honor, to pollinate (give new life) to our other apple trees, just as Rachael gave Sonja new life. Today, Sonja is able to walk up stairs again without getting tired and needing to sit down to rest. Most importantly she is able to do activities with our son once again.

I have been part of the success that organ donation can bring, but I also have seen how the lack of registered organ and tissue donors hurts a family, as a loved one dies while waiting. Organ donation has helped my family so now I spend my time volunteering, teaching others about organ donation. My hope is that my effort to educate people about becoming registered organ donors will make a difference in several lives along the way. Learn more about organ and tissue donation at www.donatelifemn.org. - Ken Sitzman.

My miracle son

My son, Sam, 69 years old, has a history of health problems. At 38 he suffered a massive heart attack. In 1980 he had open heart surgery and again returned to teaching but his doctor said it was far too stressful. Sam didn't give up, however. His zest for life and his optimism were far too great to give up. He volunteered at the hospital for hundreds of hours in the cardiac ward, became an avid Scoutmaster and volunteered every year at the Shrine Circus. He loves people and people love Sam for his quick wit and keen sense of humor. His heart began to fail and his doctor recommended he place his name on the heart transplant list. At 1 a.m., Aug. 2, 2004, a call came from Mayo Clinic saying they had a donor's heart and he was to report to St. Marys Hospital at 6 a.m. At 9:30 a.m. he was in the operating room and at 12:30 p.m. a new heart was inserted and at 4:30 p.m. he was sent to the intensive care unit. The next morning he was smiling and squeezed my hand. What a miracle! He and his wife, Joyce, spent the next three months at The Gift of Life Transplant House, not far from St. Marys Hospital. I can't thank the Mayo Clinic and the donor's family enough for giving Sam a new lease on life. Since his transplant, however, he has suffered many additional health problems, including cancer.

He came to visit me in Crosslake and on Aug. 1, I found him on the floor with a massive stroke and paralyzed on one side. He was airlifted back to Mayo and is now in a hospice for the terminally ill in Oakdale.

What a life and what a story and so many people to thank along the way. Thank you for reading my story as the mother of my miracle son. - Peg Stelzig, Crosslake.


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