'I gave life to my daughter twice': Woman who gave life-saving kidney to her daughter

'I would put my life down for both my kids,' says Carole Cort

WHEN her daughter needed a life-saving transplant, Carole Cort didn’t hesitate...

 

Carole Cort is a housewife and lives in Bolton with her husband Richard, 59. Their daughter developed kidney problems and was taken seriously ill on holiday. She says:

“When my daughter Lucy, 30, says to me: “You and I are special, Mum.” I smile, and think how full of life she looks, with her long blonde hair, her lovely hazel eyes and her pink cheeks.

Lucy has always been a live wire, yet very loving to me, her dad, Richard, and her sister Anna, who’s 32. Her life was going great until six years ago when she started to feel more tired than usual. She’d always been a sporty size 12 so when her legs started to swell, we noticed them straight away. She’d also started getting headaches. She saw her GP and had some tests, then we all flew out to Barbados for a family holiday.

But while we were away, Lucy’s symptoms got much worse, and she was rushed into hospital with blood pressure of 220 over 146 – dangerously high. She was kept in for four days. The doctors suspected she had kidney problems and told us she’d need more tests back in the UK.

Back home her tests confirmed she had renal failure. The private kidney specialist we saw at the Oaklands Hospital in Salford, near Manchester, explained that Lucy could respond to drugs, she might have to have dialysis, she could need a kidney transplant or, at worst, it could be fatal.

They whisked her off for more blood tests, leaving Richard, Anna and me there, too numb to even cry.

Lucy was stoic. She drove herself to all her appointments, fitting in her work as an account manager around them and texting us any news. She transferred to the NHS and, after a kidney biopsy, was diagnosed with IgA nephropathy – which meant her immune system was damaging her kidneys.

But no one knew why this was happening. The good news was that, under the care of Professor Phil Kalra at Salford Royal Infirmary, she responded well to drugs. There were times over the next four years as she worked long hours and went out with her friends when we sometimes forgot she had any health problems at all.

But then in February, 2014, Lucy got food poisoning and her kidney function started to drop, leaving her shattered. It had been around 39 per cent two years earlier, but by October, 2014, it was 17 per cent and 11 per cent by November.

The time had come to look at the different options. When a dialysis nurse visited, Lucy looked at me, shaking her head, as if to say: ‘Not that, please.’

 

'I have absolutely no regrets,' says Carole, pictured with Richard, Lucy and Anna

The moment the nurse said Lucy would stand a better chance of survival if she could have a kidney transplant before dialysis, my mind was made up. 

I put my blinkers on and announced that if I was a match, I was going to donate a kidney to Lucy. Richard argued he wanted to be the one who donated but it turned out he wasn’t a match. Anna was a match. But I was determined it would be me. As her mum, I felt I was the obvious choice. Anna’s kidney could be Lucy’s standby for the future.

I had so many tests. Not only did they have to check my kidneys were healthy enough for me to survive with just one, they had to check I didn’t have any other illnesses I might be passing on. I had chest X-rays, kidney tests, echocardiograms, a psychology assessment – they checked everything.

I’ve always been squeamish – the sight or thought of blood leaves me light-headed but I just wrapped myself in an imaginary bubble and had the tests, all the time hoping I would be a match.

We were all together last December when I got an email from Sister Julie Gorton, the living donor nurse at Salford Royal Infirmary, that confirmed I was a match. Crying with joy, we had champagne that night. It was such a relief after what felt like a long wait to know what would happen.

Of course, donating a kidney isn’t without risk. 

I was warned I could die in the operation – could have a heart attack or a stroke, or I could end up a kidney patient myself. Lucy would say: “It’s not fair I’m putting you through this, Mum.” But my decision was a no-brainer. I would put my life down for both my kids. Besides, in the four months leading up to the surgery, I told myself if I didn’t wake up from the operation, I wouldn’t know anything about it anyway. 

By now Lucy’s health was deteriorating. She used all the energy she had each day for her job in Manchester. Watching what she ate – tomatoes, chocolate and potatoes were just some of the things she couldn’t have and she had to boil her vegetables until they lost all nutritional value – made mealtimes difficult. She was shattered. 

There were fewer active hours in her day and the lively Lucy we all knew was fading fast.

We had our operations at the Manchester Royal Infirmary on April 21 this year. We went in the night before, giggling and being silly, through nerves. If we’d let emotion get the better of us, we’d have been blubbering wrecks.

On the day of the transplant, I was listening to Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds – “every little thing’s gonna be alright” – as I drifted under the anaesthetic and I was in theatre for about three hours while my left kidney was removed. By mid-afternoon I was back in my room, chatting away to Richard and Anna, thanks to my morphine! I wouldn’t sleep because I knew Lucy would be wheeled past my door. I just had to see her.

Eventually, at 10.30pm, she was wheeled past. Wearing an oxygen mask, she managed to ease herself up and wave to me. I knew then it had all been a success, but when I saw our consultant Afshin Tavakoli’s drained face half an hour later, I could tell it hadn’t been easy. Instead of having one chunky artery, the kidney I’d donated had a split artery, and it had taken three attempts to plumb my kidney into Lucy.

The next day, Lucy and I phoned each other. 

“Are you OK?” was all I needed to know. She said she was. We’ve seen photos since and we both looked so white, puffy and ill that day, but I was just happy it had all gone well.

 

I was up and about two days after the operation and after five days in hospital, I went home. Lucy came home two days later. Richard looked after us, and Anna, who’d moved back home, was our chauffeur, nurse, carer and cook. 

It has been a worrying time as we’ve waited for my kidney to settle in Lucy’s body. We were worried the kidney, which had worked at 95 per cent in my body, was being rejected. But Lucy has had two biopsies and both have ruled out rejection.

I’ve been so scared to say Lucy’s doing fine, because every time I say it, something has happened to put her back in hospital.

I’m crossing my fingers as I say this, but her blood pressure is coming down and the kidney seems to be working better now. She has her pink cheeks back, she’s working as hard as ever and is planning to settle in a house near to us. When Lucy comes through the door after work or a night out, I tell her my little kidney has been missing its mate. We had a strong bond before, but it’s even stronger now.

Meanwhile, Richard has lost 7st and he’s done a 300-mile bike ride from London to Paris for the charity, Kidneys for Life. He’s raised over £20,000 towards a scanner, which will speed up diagnosis for kidney patients. We also want to urge people to get on the donor register and start saving lives.

I have absolutely no regrets about giving Lucy my kidney. I’ve given life to Lucy twice. It really was the easiest decision I have ever made.” 

To sponsor Richard Cort, go to virginmoneygiving.com/RichardCort1 or kidneysforlife.org. For details about the donor register, see organdonation.nhs.uk.