Thanks to the donor who saved my life
Today, thanks to a person I will never meet, I will wish myself a Happy Birthday. I was actually born in June 1956. But last year, on Sept. 13, I was fortunate enough to receive a liver transplant at the University of Washington Medical Center. This day has now become my second birthday.
Approximately 20 years ago I was diagnosed with primary sclerosing cholangitis, a disease which has an unknown cause and ultimately results in liver failure and death. The only "cure" for this disease is organ transplantation. At the time of my diagnosis, I was told, "Don't worry about it. Someday you may need a transplant, but if so, that's a long time from now." Well, contrary to the old adage, "someday" does come.
After nearly two years of being on the waiting list I began experiencing significant liver failure and rapidly deteriorating health. I would take my phone everywhere I went for more than 22 months. I jumped every time it rang hoping I was being summoned for transplant. Over time my test results became more critical. I began to wonder if I was one of the many people who could not hold on long enough. As time was running out, I got "the call" on 9/11 of last year.
My wife and I urgently boarded the MedStar air ambulance bound for Seattle. The professionals at MedStar were wonderful and I can't thank them enough for getting me there on time. At Boeing Field I was transferred to a ground ambulance and rushed to the University Hospital. For the next three months I received care that I'm sure is unsurpassed anywhere in the world.
To Dr. Kutteruff and his nurse, Sue, my wonderful gastroenterologist who originally diagnosed my disease; to Dr. Batycharia, my guardian angel who got me on the list and made sure I wasn't forgotten; to Dr. Rayhill, the unbelievably talented chief surgeon, who performed my 14-hour operation, along with countless other doctors, nurses, and technicians; and to all the women and men who handled my "post-operative" care, I literally owe my life. Obviously, I will never be able to thank them enough.
While I'm giving thanks, I will never forget all my friends and family members for their thoughts, their prayers, their cards, letters, notes, emails and tweets. Any time I felt down and didn't think I could go on, I would think about all the people who care about me and that was all I needed to take that next all-important step. To my son, Brian, my daughter, Kate, Jonathan, Jodi, Janet and Joanna, all who came to Seattle to help me, I will always be indebted. To my wonderful wife of 36 years, Brenda, who truly believes in the words "for better and for worse, in sickness and in health," I will always love and cherish.
But most of all, I must thank some unknown person, who in the ultimate act of charity and heroism, took the time to become an organ donor. To this person, and his family, I and five other individuals who received transplanted organs and tissues will be eternally grateful.
And to every person reading this column, please, please, please consider organ donation. It truly is your last chance to become a hero.
Lastly, Happy Birthday to Me!
Dave Babb is a resident of Rathdrum.
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