I ONCE went to a lecture on the subject of artificial hips. I
don't now recall what was said, but I do remember the title:
"What's a joint like this doing in a nice girl like you?"
Spare-part surgery is now commonplace. Underpinning the
well-being of many Church Times readers will undoubtedly
be an assortment of plastic knees, heart pace-makers, stents,
dental crowns, and metal plates, some readers having combinations
of these bionic extras.
Physical, as well as spiritual, healing was at the heart of
Christ's earthly ministry. Many Christian doctors have seen their
medical expertise as an expression of faith; and, in recent years,
that expertise has been enhanced by modern science and technology.
Those who are not medical professionals are also able to contribute
to the treatment of the sick. Donors can give blood to be banked
for future re-use by others; and bone marrow can be given to treat
leukaemia and other life-threatening conditions.
Giving blood or bone marrow is a relatively minor procedure for
the donor; but other forms of donation involve a degree of risk,
discomfort, and substantial commitment. Increasingly friends,
spouses, and family members are offering to be live kidney donors.
Healthy adults need only one kidney, and the spare can be offered
safely to someone else. Even though the operation today can be
performed using "keyhole" techniques, it still involves a general
anaesthetic, plus several weeks of recovery from the
surgery.
TWENTY-FIVE years ago, when I had a kidney transplant, the vast
majority of organs were cadaveric kidneys. Today, one senior
transplant surgeon told me, 50 per cent of the transplants he
carries out involve living donors. Developments in anti-rejection
treatments have enabled kidneys that might be less than perfectly
matched to be given to recipients with a high expectation of
success. This enables donors who are not closely matched blood
relations to offer organs as an act of kindness and self-sacrifice.
In some cases, when finding compatible organs is difficult, owing
perhaps to antibody complications, it is possible to set up chains
of donors. In order for husband A to give to wife B, he first gives
his compatible kidney to stranger C. Stranger C's friend or spouse,
who is a more suitable match for wife B, then gives wife B a spare
kidney.
It is also possible for volunteers to offer a kidney to a
complete stranger as an act of pure altruism. In addition to
undergoing medical tests to determine suitability, they will be
interviewed by an independent assessor under guidelines overseen by
the Human Tissue Authority, to ensure that they are not being
forced to do something against their wishes; or being offered (or
accepting) any reward. In some countries, donors sell their
kidneys, either legally or otherwise, and cases have been reported
of people in dire poverty selling a kidney to clear debts, or to
pay for the education or medical treatment of a family
member.
REGULATED and unpaid altruistic donation is an ethically sound
act, which a Christian might consider as an act of charity. The
identity of the recipient is not normally divulged to the donor (in
the same way that recipients of cadaveric organs are rarely told
the name of their donor), because of a concern that a relationship
might develop between donor and recipient that becomes one of
exploited obligation.
The transplant hospital will, however, pass unsigned letters
between the two parties. For 25 years, I have sent an annual
anonymous letter to my donor family, letting them know I am well.
In one reply, I learned that a flowering cherry had been planted in
my donor's memory. This has been my inspiration for an artwork I
have recently completed for Guy's Hospital, which the transplant
team there hopes will become a focus of remembrance honouring all
organ donors.
RECEIVING the gift of a transplant as the result of the death of a
stranger is not like receiving a metal or plastic spare part. I can
never forget that, running in parallel with my own story of hope
and new life, is another: that of a family's loss and grief.
Inevitably, I wonder about the donor - who he or she might have
been, and how they met their death. It is reassuring to know that,
in many circumstances, a family finds comfort in their loss by
agreeing to an organ donation, as the parents of Teddy Houlston
recently testified. He was the baby who lived only 100 minutes, but
whose organs were given to others at his sorrowing parents' insist-
ence.
"It is more blessed to give than to receive," Jesus said. To
receive a human transplant is a responsibility. Given its high
human cost, the gift must not be squandered. The recipient is
obliged to do all that is medically required to give the organ the
maximum chance of survival; not to forget to take the medication,
and not to abuse the body with drink, or junk food. I feel, too, a
responsibility not to idle away a life that has been extended in
such remarkable circumstances. There is also a sense of guilt and
unworthiness to be faced, though without allowing negative feelings
to dominate one's thoughts.
THE Gospel accounts of Jesus's ministry give little advice on how
best to respond to being healed. There are numerous stories of
miraculous cures, but little is said about what happened afterwards
to those who were healed. I can't get out of my mind the absurd
image of Michael Palin, in The Life of Brian, complaining
that, after being miraculously cured, he had lost his livelihood as
a beggar - "Alms for an ex-leper"!
What we do have, however, is the Gospel story of ten real
lepers. All were healed, but only one returned to Jesus to thank
him. The message is simple: nothing more is expected than gratitude
- gratitude to the medical professionals; to the world of science;
sometimes even, most of all, to someone whose identity one will
never know.
Ted Harrison is a writer, artist, and broadcaster, and was
formerly the BBC Religious Affairs Correspondent.