Welcome to one man's emotional life-and-death roller-coaster ride.
It's been a week and a half since the headline of hope appeared over one of my columns.
"Wanted: a six-foot, 200-pound hero to save a life."
At first I thought we -- we being the kind and gentle inhabitants of the Heart of the Continent -- might save Warren Degelman's life.
Degelman desperately needs a liver transplant.
His 21-year-old daughter Jen brought his situation to our readers' attention last month in a moving tribute she wrote about her father. That was just before she learned that her liver was too small to be transplanted and her brother's was too large. Which is also when they were told the ideal candidate is someone six-feet tall and 200 pounds.
But what are the chances of someone who's built basically like the prototype National Hockey League forward risking life and liver for a stranger?
Impressively good as it turned out.
By 5:45 a.m. on the day the column appeared, the first e-mail had arrived.
"I'm 6'2" and 195 pounds -- would that fit the bill? Blood type O RH+. I'd be happy to help Mr. Degelman."
And so it went.
Later that day Jen tallied them up.
There were 13 volunteers.
"I can't believe how awesome this is turning out to be," Jen wrote, "and it is giving my dad hope."
But, as I was suggesting, hope seems to like classic midway rides. The six-foot, 200-pound hero turned out to be a six-foot, 200-pound red herring.
The Ontario medical centre where Manitobans are referred for this kind of sophisticated surgery has a policy that says only relatives or those with a "demonstrated relationship" with the recipient are eligible to donate.
No strangers donating liver sections to strangers.
Why?
"Because of the substantial risks," said Dr. William Wall, the director of the London Health Sciences Centre's transplant program.
The chances of a liver donor dying is about one in 300, according to Dr. Wall. And the complication rate from giving up two-thirds of one's liver -- even though it usually regenerates in about six months -- is high, too.
That's all very sobering.
But that risk also applies to family members and people with a "demonstrated relationship." In fact, because they're expected to help another family member, they can be under pressure to have the surgery, whether they truly want to or not.
I asked Dr. Wall if he can ever see the London liver transplant program's policy changing.
"Yes, I can," he said.
Perhaps that's because it's already happening in the United States and even to a limited extent elsewhere in Ontario.
The Toronto General Hospital made Canadian medical history two years ago with the first "anonymous" liver transplant.
In that case, a 46-year-old man -- who had seen what a difference a liver transplant had made in a friend's life -- decided to give up a portion of his liver to save the life of a child he didn't know.
"They asked me every question imaginable," the man said later. "Do you have a death wish? Is this your free ticket to heaven? Did you do something in your life you want to atone for? Do you have a book deal?"
That might be a window on another reason why the London program is reluctant to take on donors who don't have an emotional connection with the recipient.
It requires a lot more time and effort and rigour.
Interestingly, someone connected with the London program has advised the Degelman family that they should try contacting Toronto General Hospital.
Maybe they'll have to.
But why should they?
Why should anybody in Manitoba whose circumstances move a stranger to help them have to go begging for a chance to save a life?
Anyway, I keep telling the Degelmans not to give up.
Which is why I was so pleased Friday when I called Warren Degelman and got the latest news.
A 25-year-old man who's a friend of the family -- actually he's like family -- has been in contact with the London Health Sciences Centre from his home in Vancouver.
Not only does he have a "demonstrated relationship," but he's almost exactly six feet and 200 pounds.
The perfect size for hope.
And for saving a life with his liver.
gordon.sinclair@freepress.mb.ca
PREVIOUS
