Organ transplants often make close relationships even closer
By Marilyn Elias
USA Today
LOS ANGELES — Comedian George Lopez vividly recalls lying on a gurney, waiting to be taken in for his kidney transplant 14 months ago. It was not a macho moment.
His wife, Ann, was the organ donor. A birth defect had steadily eroded his kidney function, and his health. Tests showed that Ann's kidney was a good match.
Just before they wheeled her in for surgery, she gave George a note and her rosary. "I knew he was going to be by himself, so I gave him the rosary for comfort," she says. "And I told him in the note that this was a gift from my heart. I was doing it for our family."
George remembers: "I was in tears. I was scared to death. But I felt how much she loved me. It made me OK with the situation. I didn't know how it was going to come out. But at this end, I knew that I'd been loved."
A year has made a world of difference for the Lopezes. He leaped back into life with Ann's kidney; he was playing golf just 10 days after surgery. And he'll be golfing again, competitively, at the biennial U.S. Transplant Games, starting Saturday in Louisville. More than 1,200 organ recipients will compete in 12 sports at the five-day, Olympic-style event.
The Lopezes say there's no question that the organ failure and transplant made their close marriage even closer.
Couples who ride the roller coaster of near-death and transplant for one spouse nearly always get off at a different place than they got on. It's often a better place, says Cheryl Jacobs, a transplant social worker at University of Minnesota Medical Center in Minneapolis.
But marriages can crumble under such challenges, she says. Partners who fare best tend to have tight bonds before crises set in, communicate openly and have flexible roles, Jacobs says.
STRONG BOND HELPS
Close couples can weather even the worst crises. Isabel Stenzel-Byrnes, 34, had cystic fibrosis from birth, which caused her lungs to gradually stop working. She met her husband, Andrew, 12 years ago at Stanford University. "I didn't hide a thing from him," she says. "I felt if he couldn't handle it, I didn't want to waste my time with him."
They made it through a few near-death crises together. And since her transplant 2 1/2 years ago, they have traveled extensively.
"We appreciate every minute we have together. We savor our time," she says.
Catherine Paykin, transplant programs director at the National Kidney Foundation, says she has learned to expect the unexpected from couples. She recalls the very traditional Italian-American patriarch who couldn't return to work even with a new heart, and whose wife had to work into her late 60s to keep their health insurance.
"He cleaned the house from top to bottom and even took care of the grandkids. He became a different man," she says.
If partners don't change to meet new needs, the marriage may end, says psychiatrist Scott Haltzman, a faculty member at Brown University Medical School and author of "The Secrets of Happily Married Men."
One of Haltzman's patients lost his job when his kidneys failed. The man's wife became the sole breadwinner. "He'd always been a passive person, and he became more passive, refusing even to do the dishes or help around the house," Haltzman says. A community group they belonged to sent a volunteer to help with household chores. The wife wound up leaving her husband for the helper.
A TRIAL BY FIRE
The crisis of organ failure and the drama of a transplant can amplify the strengths and weaknesses couples have going in, Jacobs says.
Nobody knows that better than Steven Nock, 56, a University of Virginia sociologist and the author of "Marriage in Men's Lives."
A diabetic since age 11, he was near death from kidney failure five years ago. After doctors said he faced a five- to seven-year wait on the cadaver list, his wife, Daphne Spain, offered her kidney.
The transplant went fine, but Spain nearly died because of a surgical error. (Fewer than 1 percent of donors have serious complications, says University of Minnesota transplant surgeon Arthur Matas.)
After the crisis, she had two years of almost constant pain and says she now "keeps discomfort at bay" with regular physical therapy.
Despite all that, Spain doesn't regret giving the kidney.
"We don't have kids, so I didn't give life to another human being in my 20s or 30s. Instead, I've given life to my husband in my 50s," she says. "I'm still here, and so is he.
"If anything, this has brought us closer."