Kidney Donation Quotes

No one needs a relationship. What you need is the basic cop-on to figure that out, in the face of all the media bullshit screaming that you're nothing on your own and you're a dangerous freak if you disagree. The truth is, if you don't exist without someone else, you don't exist at all. And that doesn't just go for romance. I love my ma, I love my friends, I love the bones of them. If any of them wanted me to donate a kidney or crack a few heads, I'd do it, no questions asked. And if they all waved good-bye and walked out of my life tomorrow, I'd still be the same person I am today.

In China, organ brokers are particularly targeting young people in Internet forums with slogans such as “Donate a kidney, buy the new iPad.

Women tend to act heroically within their own moral universe, regardless of whether anyone else knows about it - donating more kidneys to nonrelatives than men do, for example. Men, on the other hand, are far more likely to risk their lives at a moment's notice, and that reaction is particularly strong when others are watching, or when they are part of a group.

But opposites attract, as they say, and that's certainly true when it comes to Emma Marchetta and me. She's the beauty and I'm the brains. She loves all forms of reality television, would donate a kidney if it meant she could pash Andrew G, is constantly being invited out to parties and other schools' semi formals, and likes any movie featuring Lindsay Lohan. I, on the other hand, have shoulder-length blonde hair, too many freckles and - thanks to years of swimming the fifty-metre butterfly event - swimmer's shoulders and no boobs. In other words, I look like an ironing board with a blonde wig. - Cat

H appears no different from the corpses already here. But H is different. She has made three sick people well. She has brought them extra time on Earth. To be able as a dead person to make a gift of this magnitude is phenomenal. Most people don't manage this sort of thing while they're alive. Cadavers like H are the dead's heroes. It is astounding to me and achingly sad that with 80,000 people on the waiting list for donated hearts and livers and kidneys, with sixteen a day dying there on that list, that more than half the people in the position H's family was in will say no, will choose to burn those organs or let them rot. We abide the surgeon's scalpel to save our own lives, our loved one's lives, but not to save a stranger's life. H has no heart but heartless is the last thing you'd call her.

No one needs a relationship. What you need is the basic cop-on to figure that out, in the face of all the media bullshit screaming that you're nothing on your own and you're a dangerous freak if you disagree. The truth is, if you don't exist without someone else, you don't exist at all. And that doesn't just go for romance. I love my ma, I love my friends, I love the bones of them. If any of them wanted me to donate a kidney or crack a few heads, I'd do it, no questions asked. And if they all waved goodbye and walked out of my life tomorrow, I'd still be the same person I am today. I live inside my own skin. Anything that happens outside it doesn't change who I am. This isn't something I'm proud of; as far as I'm concerned, it's a bare minimum baseline requirement for calling yourself an adult human being, somewhere around the level of knowing how to do your own washing or change a toilet roll. All those idiots on the websites, begging for other people to pull their sagging puppet-strings, turn them real: they make me want to spit.

Donating sperm was not the same as, say, donating a kidney. Or a retina. It was the passing along of an essence that was inseparable from personhood itself.

Effective altruists do things like the following: •Living modestly and donating a large part of their income—often much more than the traditional tenth, or tithe—to the most effective charities; •Researching and discussing with others which charities are the most effective or drawing on research done by other independent evaluators; •Choosing the career in which they can earn most, not in order to be able to live affluently but so that they can do more good; •Talking to others, in person or online, about giving, so that the idea of effective altruism will spread; •Giving part of their body—blood, bone marrow, or even a kidney—to a stranger. In the following chapters, we will meet people who have done these things.

Even if we all decided to define personhood to include fertilized eggs and embryos and fetuses, they would not have the right to use a woman’s body against her will and at whatever cost to herself. Persons are not entitled to use one another like that: Even if I am the only person in the world who can save my child by donating a kidney, the decision is still mine to make.

It is astounding to me, and achingly sad, that with eighty thousand people on the waiting list for donated hearts and livers and kidneys, with sixteen a day dying there on that list, that more than half of the people in the position H’s family was in will say no, will choose to burn those organs or let them rot. We abide the surgeon’s scalpel to save our own lives, our loved ones’ lives, but not to save a stranger’s life. H has no heart, but heartless is the last thing you’d call her.

National data said it wasn’t just our imagination or where we sat. I soon learned that though Blacks and Whites each made up a third of the kidney transplant waiting list at that time, Whites received every other donated kidney and Blacks received every fifth one, which meant that on average, Blacks waited nearly two years longer than Whites for a kidney transplant. As a primary care doctor at the time, not aware of the realities of nephrology, I didn’t know that two years could mean never having to be on dialysis at all. That two years could be the difference between surviving in body and spirit. Or not.

15. A fellow motorist lets you pull out in front of them. What's your response? A: I wouldn't notice them from so high up in my truck B: I wouldn't notice them because I haven't looked in my mirrors for about seven years C: Thank them with every flashy device my car has, as if they've just donated me a kidney

Walt and Muriel insisted on doing the dishes together. “It’s what Muriel promised, since she’d donate a kidney before she’d actually consider cooking,” Walt said. And once they were alone in the kitchen, he came up behind her at the sink and kissed her neck. “You handled that whole interrogation beautifully. Classic recon—evasion, resistance, escape. We could have used you in the army.” She turned in his arms. “What I did for a living was much more dangerous. But I agree with you, I am good.” “Then let’s get this kitchen cleaned up so I can follow you home, spend a little time away from the kids.” “I can get into that idea,” she said, grinning. At

Organ donation is the stuff of which dreams are made,” he began. “Literally. In a given year, there may be 4,000 people waiting for 2,000 donated hearts, and 4,000 people waiting for 1,000 donated lungs. Livers? Probably 18,000 people will wait, 6,000 will get, and another 2,000 will die waiting. And the numbers are even higher when we talk about kidneys—60,000 people waiting, 15,000 getting, 4,000 dying while they wait. By the way, the survival rate for these transplants is impressive, often up in the 85 percent range.

In a recent poll, one in four people said they'd donate a kidney to a complete stranger. Yeah, sure... 90% of people won't even let a stranger merge in traffic. Jay Leno

My dad wasn’t unkind, he was just absent. I knew him from a distance, and he probably felt the same way about me. I was sure he loved me, but it wasn’t the cozy, wrap-yourself-up-in-it kind of love. He’d most likely donate a kidney to me if I needed it, but he wouldn’t rush out of work to attend an art show I was exhibiting in—that I knew for a fact.

What kind of person protects his ex and his little brother from the consequences of their own fucked-up selfish choices? Thinks of his family’s feelings before he thinks of his own. Anonymously donates a kidney to a stranger. Zander had said Jacob would give you the shirt off his back and that whole analogy seemed wildly inadequate now that I knew what Jacob was really like.

Everyone talked with Brenda. They wanted to hear about the new women's league, but they were far more impressed when they heard Brenda was going to be a doctor. Dad even let Brenda take over the grill for a while, a move for Dad tantamount to donating a kidney.

I can't serve SPIT to my friends." "Would you give any of them blood? A kidney?" "Of course. They can have the organ of their choice." This makes me think about Grant's friend Jenna, who gave her best friend part of her liver, sadly to no avail. Grant and I used to double-date occasionally with Jenna and her husband Elliot, and I loved them both. They live not far from here, but I didn't tell them when I moved into the Palmer house. They were his friends, not mine, and I'm sad to have lost them in the split. Although they do have the worst-behaved dog on the planet, who slobbered all over Schatzi the one time we tried to meet at the dog park, and ate my purse the last time they had us over for dinner, so maybe it isn't the worst loss.

I’d donate a kidney in exchange for a life free of other peoples’ emotions. “We can’t take you anywhere.

Rather, I was fascinated with how going through the process of becoming Robert's kidney donor gave me a glimpse of the kidney transplant system that being a primary care doctor did not provide. Though at the time I was working on research projects on the effects of language barriers on health outcomes, my experience with Robert inspired me to change my research focus to what made some people more likely to get a kidney transplant than others. Donating my own kidney was my solution for Robert. I saw research as the way to help other people like him.

I pictured in detail my bodily decomposition. What would go first? Would I stay fresh longer if I left the air conditioning on high? How long before the smell seeped into the apartment hallway, or through ventilation shafts into other apartments? My poor neighbors. I should send them flowers. I had an overwhelming desire to turn in my body and donate it wholesale. "I have so many organs!" I'd declare to anyone who'd listen, mutter to myself several times a day. This is just weird enough to sound like a sick joke to another human being but for me it never was: I was gobsmacked by my own wasteful monopoly on body parts. Dozens of people die every day awaiting organs, and here I was hogging so many of them—perfectly good pancreas, lungs, liver, kidneys that could save the lives of people who could then go on to win Nobel Prizes or solve refugee crises. That aspiration ran so deep, I felt cheated to discover you can only donate organs inf you die while stabilized, on a ventilator—not if you're dead on arrival at a hospital. (If that fact doesn't sound devastating to you, you clearly don't dream up suicides designed so that no one will find you for at least thirty hours.)

The impact of second-class treatment on black people’s bodies is devastating. It is manifested not only in the black–white death gap but also in the drastic measures required when chronic disease is left unmanaged. Black patients are less likely than whites to be referred to kidney and liver transplant wait lists and are more likely to die while waiting for a transplant.68 If they are lucky enough to get a donated kidney or liver, blacks are sicker than whites at the time of transplantation and less likely to survive afterward. “Take a look at all the black amputees,” said a caller to a radio show I was speaking on, identifying the remarkable numbers of people with amputated legs you see in poor black communities as a sign of health inequities. According to a 2008 nationwide study of Medicare claims, whites in Louisiana and Mississippi have a higher rate of leg amputation than in other states, but the rate for blacks is five times higher than for whites.69 An earlier study of Medicare services found that physicians were less likely to treat their black patients with aggressive, curative therapies such as hospitalization for heart disease, coronary artery bypass surgery, coronary angioplasty, and hip-fracture repair.70 But there were two surgeries that blacks were far more likely to undergo than whites: amputation of a lower limb and removal of the testicles to treat prostate cancer. Blacks are less likely to get desirable medical interventions and more likely to get undesirable interventions that good medical care would avoid.

Don't focus on what you can't do, focus on what you can do.