Gift of my life

MOST of Ray Gilpin is 51. Everything except his kidney, in fact. All he knows about this organ is that it gave him his life back 25 years ago today, a gift for which he is eternally grateful. On July 2, in the middle of the long, hot summer of 1976, Mr Gilpin underwent a four-hour kidney transplant. It was a success, and today he looks the picture of health.

But he will never forget the long, debilitating days that proceeded his life-enhancing surgery.

Mr Gilpin was a fit and active lad who loved a game of football and helping out on the farm where his dad worked.

As a teenager he met the woman who became his wife, Pauline, a fellow student at Woldgate School, Pocklington. They began to go out, and Mr Gilpin's life was set fair.

Then, when he was 18, he began to suffer ill health.

"The early symptoms were a sore throat and back pain - it came and went, to the point where I felt I had pulled a muscle or something," said Mr Gilpin at his home in Badger Wood Walk, York.

"I went to the doctors at Pocklington. To my surprise, they didn't think it was my back and tested me for possible kidney problems."

Gradually, his health deteriorated. He felt drained of all energy and looked jaundiced. When his eyesight became badly affected doctors sent him to the former York County Hospital. He was later transferred to St James's in Leeds.

The diagnosis: kidney failure. Doctors put him on peritoneal dialysis for ten weeks.

"It's a prelude to going on a kidney dialysis machine. It's there to clean your blood," he explained.

Mr Gilpin had plenty of time to take in his surroundings, a run-down wing of St James's, since demolished. "I likened it to Florence Nightingale in the Crimean War. You had old iron beds and chairs."

Although knocked back by the seriousness of his illness, he remained optimistic. "It's a clich but when you go to hospital you always see people worse off than yourself. And I saw people worse off than myself."

Mr Gilpin needed renal dialysis to stay alive. Mottled needle marks on his left arm attest to the countless times he was attached to a dialysis machine that acts as an artificial kidney by filtering waste products from his blood.

He was also put on a strict diet and a limited liquid intake. Treats like chips, chocolate and a pint of beer were out.

To begin with, he underwent dialysis at St James's. Three nights a week for 12 hours he was hooked to the machine. At that time he lived near Stamford Bridge and worked as a sales representative in Hull so it meant an awful lot of travelling.

During the next five years, dialysis improved to the extent that his thrice-weekly sessions were reduced to six hours. But the condition still left him feeling like he was an 80-year-old man.

Mr Gilpin married Pauline and, determined to live as normal a life as possible, they decided to go on honeymoon to Spain. After an extra long dialysis session, he was cleared for four days' leave.

But on the way home, their careful plans were ruined. The plane was delayed for hours and then the car at Heathrow wouldn't go. After getting a jump-lead start from the police, they drove back to St James's, ready to drop.

The couple bought a home in Eastfield Crescent, York. One room was converted for Mr Gilpin's dialysis, complete with hospital bed and Belfast sink. His wife had to undergo training in the use and maintenance of the machine, and was given surgical masks and gowns.

"I was quite petrified," she said. "It was daunting and unnerving."

As Mr Gilpin would go on the machine at 8pm and not come off until 2am it was also exhausting.

Then, in 1975, the call came that they had been waiting for. A donor kidney was available. They rushed to St James's and the transplant took place. Agonisingly, however, it didn't take and the operation failed. It was back to dialysis.

In the drought of the following year, low water pressure affected Mr Gilpin's machine. His wife had to urge neighbours to turn off their taps, and the police issued the same appeal via a loud hailer. It was a story that made national news.

Mr Gilpin was woken by the call to tell him another donor kidney was available. He thought he was dreaming and had to ask a neighbour to call the hospital to check it was real.

This time, the new kidney worked. And it has kept on working ever since. Mr Gilpin's life was transformed.

"Your lifestyle just changes, all of a sudden," he said. "You don't have a machine to worry about."

He still takes drugs to stop rejection, and he cannot play football. But he does play other sports, and enjoys regular cycle rides.

He has built up a prosperous windows and conservatory business. And he is an enthusiastic father, supporting son Timothy, 11, and daughter Louise, seven, in all that they do.

Today a kidney transplant is almost a routine medical miracle. Not so 25 years ago. "They said to me, 'if you get three years from this transplant you're doing well'," Mrs Gilpin recalled. "Because it was such a new thing in those days."

Mr Gilpin admits "you're always on borrowed time", but "I just look forward to every day and I am thankful for every day."

The family of the kidney donor didn't want any fuss and so the Gilpins do not know his identity. All they know is he was an accident victim from Liverpool.

Because he carried a donor card, and because his family knew about it, Mr Gilpin was granted new life. They will always be thankful.

Earlier this year we reported how the Alder Hey scandal had led to a decline in organ donations. Doctors feared that some lives would be lost as a result. The Gilpins today urged people to become organ donors, and to tell their family about their decision.

Today Mr Gilpin is not so much celebrating the 25th anniversary of his transplant as reflecting on a gift that changed his life.

"You can't quantify it," he says. "It's just priceless."

- To read more about organ donation, call the Organ Donation Information Line on: 0845 60 60 400 between 7am and 11pm seven days a week

- Or visit www.nhsorgandonor.net