By Bob Luidens
I couldn’t physically hear the voice intoning it, but I sensed the message nonetheless. And it resonated with a paradoxical truth that was both surprising and energizing: “Just because this door has been closed for you, Bob, doesn’t mean it can’t be used by someone else.”
It had been a few days since I took the call on my cell phone while walking the dog, of all things. The Senior Transplant Coordinator of the University of Wisconsin Hospital’s transplant surgery program had called to inform me I would in fact not be allowed to donate my kidney on behalf of my beloved friend Dick Otterness, retired RCA pastor and missionary. A week earlier in Madison, I had spent nine hours undergoing a well-honed series of tests—x-rays, CT scans, cardiac stress, blood, psych evaluation, and such—for the purpose of determining my fitness for possible donation. Though not a medical concern to me personally, tests had unfortunately revealed that the arterial structure serving my two kidneys would make surgical transplant too problematic for the surgeons.
Subsequent to taking that unanticipated—and depression-inducing—call from the coordinator, I phoned Dick to inform him. He and I conveyed to each other our profound disappointment that I would not be able to donate. At the end of our quiet conversation, though, he indicated he would welcome my being part of the growing effort, wonderfully led by his daughters, to seek out potential donors nationwide. I responded that I would of course do whatever I could.
Now, with a few days having passed since my phone exchange with Dick, I sensed that message: “Just because this door has been closed for you, Bob, doesn’t mean it can’t be used by someone else.”
Oh.
Within a short time, I realized what my new task was—and is—meant to be. Though not able to donate myself, I was—and am—able to share a personal account of what it might entail for any others to give prayerful consideration to donating a kidney, be it to or on behalf of Dick, or to or on behalf of the countless others nationwide who are on the national registry of potential kidney transplant reception. Though the “transplant door” may not be open for me to use, I’m now in a position to point to that same door, and even to speak firsthand about what the extensive evaluation process entails, not to mention what surgery and recovery might look like. My prayer now is to be used by God to bring the need for potential living donors to step forward and consider enrolling in the evaluation process. Though I may not be permitted to walk through that door myself, I may be one amongst many who can personally point to that door, explain what lies on the other side, and even help to open that door for another.
If you—or anyone else you know—may be in a position to consider being a living donor, I would urge you to give prayerful consideration to doing so. I would warmly welcome you to contact me (rluidens@yahoo.com or 616 796-8213), or Hope Church parish nurse Ginger Clark, and we’ll be humbly honored to answer questions, give you detailed information, and then—if desired—help you make contact with the University of Wisconsin or any of a multitude of transplant centers nationwide.
You may well discover a door through which it may be right to walk on behalf of those in profound need.