Living with kidney disease has been the hardest fight of my life. It isn’t just about the countless doctor visits, treatments, and the physical pain—it’s also about the pieces of life that slip away while you’re trying to survive.
As someone waiting for a kidney transplant, I’ve seen firsthand how this journey doesn’t just affect me—it impacts my entire family. When illness takes hold, it brings stress, uncertainty, and hardship to the people we love most. That’s why living donation is such a powerful gift. It wouldn’t only change my life; it would help keep my family together, easing their worry and lifting a huge weight off their shoulders.
In the U.S., there are currently over 100,000 people waiting for a life-saving kidney transplant. The waitlist is long—sometimes taking five years or more—and during that time, many people grow even more ill while hoping for a match that may never come.
When I think about what it means to receive a living kidney transplant, the first word that comes to mind is #caring. Because that’s exactly what living donation is—a profound act of caring. It’s someone stepping forward, not out of obligation, but out of compassion. It’s a person deciding to give the gift of more time, more memories, more life.
My friend John has been battling kidney disease for years. He’s on dialysis three times a week, which leaves him drained and unable to work, but through it all, he continues to show incredible strength and hope. John is more than just a patient—he’s a devoted husband to Kamille, a loving dad to two boys, and a son who treasures time with his mother.
One of the biggest myths I’ve heard since starting my search is that “many people find a kidney donor right away.” I wish that were true. But the reality is, most people wait—and keep waiting—while their health continues to decline.
A transplant from a living donor means better health outcomes, fewer complications, and the chance to feel like myself again. It means I could travel with my family. I could wake up without dialysis dictating my day. I could be present for my boys in a way I haven’t been able to for a while.
But through all of this, what continues to lift me up is support. The smallest act of kindness makes a difference. Whether it is someone sharing my story or just reaching out to check in, it reminds me that I am not alone. A conversation, a prayer, or simply spreading awareness about organ donation can ripple out in ways none of us may ever fully see.
John means the world to me, and I’m doing everything I can to help him get the life-saving transplant he desperately needs. I wish I could be the one to donate, but unfortunately, I’m not eligible. That won’t stop me from fighting for him.
I’m registered with the University of Utah Health, and the best path forward for me is a transplant. A living donor would not only shorten my wait—it would give me a chance to get back to life. I’d be able to spend more time with my wife, Kamille, and our two boys. We’d have the freedom to travel again, and I could feel more like me.