We are thrilled to present stories and profiles of Transplant Recipients here at litrio.com.Please meet Gerry and Connie Highins.

This profile was originally published in the The Long Island TRIO Newsletter.

Gerry and Connie Higgins

By Connie Higgins

On August 21, 1998, my husband Gerry and I were lying on gurneys in pre-op at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital, waiting to go into surgery where my right kidney would be transplanted into Gerry. As we think back to that moment, both Gerry and I are amazed that the predominant feelings we had were joy and wonderment.

First, we were thrilled that I, a non-related donor, was a three-antigen match with Gerry. This opened the door for him to realize the dream of a healthy kidney and a life free of dialysis. Second, we were humbled by the wonderment of the whole transplant process. To realize that the surgeons could remove an organ from my body and transplant it into Gerry's, without any significant threat to myself or my future health, seemed nothing short of a miracle.

As I was wheeled into the operating room, I passed Gerry's gurney. Everything began to move so quickly. I was placed on the operating table. The room was cold and I began to shiver not only in coldness but in anticipation. This was it. It was really going to happen. As the oxygen mask covered my face, a great sense of peace enveloped me and I fell asleep.
The next memory I have is waking up in recovery surrounded by my loved ones and nurses who were assuring me the surgeries went well, Gerry was fine, and all looked good. When I woke up the next morning in my hospital room, my first thought, as had been the case each day for weeks, was about the upcoming transplant operation. Then suddenly I realized we had already gone through it. The elation I felt was immense.

Everything leading up to the transplant had happened so quickly. Gerry had been fine, never suspecting any kidney problems until February 1998. He called me at home to tell me that a blood test and urinalysis indicated that he had a serious kidney problem. It hit like a lightning bolt. What could this mean and what would happen next?

From knowing virtually nothing about kidney function, dialysis, and transplants, we soon became familiar with words like nephrologist, creatinine, antigen, and fistulas. The doctors told us Gerry was quickly approaching end stage renal disease.
In May, Gerry had a kidney biopsy which ended our hopes that medication could alleviate or at least slow down the deterioration of his kidneys. By the end of June, Gerry began dialysis treatments.
We asked his doctor about the possibility of a kidney transplant, and she said it was definitely something we should consider. But we were faced with the depressing fact that the wait list for a kidney in New York was on average four years. I asked the doctor if I could be a potential donor. Just from seeing Gerry's expression, I knew the idea of my giving him a kidney was unthinkable to him. But to me, it was more unthinkable that I would not donate a kidney to this man that I loved, so I kept asking questions about being a donor, and Gerry began to accept the idea.

Soon after I began a comprehensive evaluation to determine if I could be Gerry's donor. The fates were smiling down at us. My husband of less than four years and I were a favorable antigen match. The elation we felt as we learned we were compatible was indescribable. I cried all the way home in pure joy.

When we went to Columbia to meet with the transplant team, we were surrounded by caring, compassionate, and gifted "angels." From the surgeons to the dialysis and transplant nurses to the residents to the transplant coordinators, we felt as if our case really mattered. They explained complicated medical terms and procedures to us in ways that we could understand.
An ongoing series of informational meetings, held once a week for eleven weeks, proved enormously helpful not only in the knowledge we received but in the support we got from meeting others in the same situation as ourselves. We also listened to a series of audio tapes that encourage relaxation and healing before, during and after the transplant operations. We both believe this helped us better prepare for the surgery and the recovery that followed.

For Gerry and I this has been a profound life experience. So important through all this has been our love for each other. In addition, the support of Gerry's sons, Chris and Jeff, as well as other family members, friends, and colleagues helped us deal with the ups and downs of kidney disease on a daily basis. We've become closer as a family and realized how much it means to be together. We've also learned how important it is to keep focused on the goal of returning to good health. When we first found out about Gerry's kidney disease, we met a man who had been on dialysis for four years before a match was found. He said he felt he'd had two choices: he could live his life fully and happily in spite of having kidney disease, or he could be a diseased person whose energy focused on the unfairness of having the disease. He chose the first path and he believed it made all the difference.
Gerry and I have also came to realize the enormous benefit of adopting a mind, body, and spiritual perspective when dealing with things like illness, surgery, and the healing process. To embrace all sides of who we are was a blessed lesson to learn.
We both were emotionally transformed by this entire experience. From Gerry's perspective, transplant recipients are the luckiest people on earth when they are given the precious gift of life. Gerry jokes that he doesn't even care to buy lottery tickets anymore; he's already won the lottery. And from my perspective, being fortunate enough to donate a kidney to the man I love was the most profoundly joyous experience of my life.

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