Fortunately all of that was to change on Jan. 21, 1996 when someone saved my life.  That was the day that I received my double-lung transplant from a total stranger.  That was the day their son died in an automobile accident.  That was also the day that they made the decision to donate his organs and I got his lungs.  They, literally, saved my life as if they had run into a burning building and pulled me out themselves.

How do you thank someone for saving your life?  How do you thank them if you don’t even know who they are?  I was allowed to send them an anonymous letter via my transplant center.  I did this for a couple of years not expecting to receive a reply, but eventually I got one from his family.  I went to visit them thinking I would stay a day, but ended up staying five!  They were really wonderful.  I got to visit his family and friends, and to see the places where he played as a kid.  I also got to visit his grave, and the memorial at his crash site.  That was extremely sad, but in a way I felt I was finally able to pay my respects properly. 

Over the years, I’ve sent them flowers, candy and gifts on the anniversary of their son’s death.  But, it is so insignificant considering what I have received.  The only way that I can truly thank them for saving my life is by taking care of my health, my transplant and by devoting myself to helping others.  Kind of like the movie, “Pay it Forward.” I can never pay them back, so I pay it forward.

But, in order to do that, I needed to recover from five years of end-stage lung disease.  My first year was a bit rough.  My body had already been through major surgery and was now being rearranged, cell by cell, by the immunosuppressive drugs I needed to take.  But, I was able to breathe freely for the first time in years.  It was hard getting back to exercising after having been so sick for so long.  But, then, one day I heard about the Transplant Games.  Now, I had a goal.

A year and a half after my transplant, I went to Sydney, Australia for the 1997 World Transplant Games and competed in swimming.  I did really well.  I came in last!  It was one of my proudest moments.  I was gushing with excitement just to be alive.  In my mind, just being there and being able to swim again was the best medal I could have ever received.  I had received the "Gift of Life."  Since, then I have been able to participate in three other Transplant Games.  The first medal I ever won, I made into a plaque and gave it to my donor family.

I have always felt that my donor, Justin, is up in heaven watching me to make sure that I make good use of his lungs and the extra time I have been given by his “Gift.”  But, this year, my donor family watched me instead at this year’s U. S. Transplant Games held in Orlando, Fl.  I dragged them all over Wide World of Sports, showing them off to everyone I met. “Hey, I want you to meet some very special people.  This is my donor family!” I said to everyone I met.  Anita, my donor’s mother, really got into the pin trading and was able to score the elusive pin of Team Hawaii, among many others.  It was overwhelming for them to see so many other athletes whose lives have been saved by people just like them and to realize that they are not alone in their grief with so many other donor families there.

One of the most moving experiences was seeing my donor’s father get up and speak about the son he loved during the Quilt Pinning Ceremony.  His family has awarded seven scholarships in their son’s name and they received a rousing applause.  They are the real heroes of transplantation and it felt good to see them recognized.

On Saturday, I was lucky to win a gold medal in the 100-yd butterfly, as I was the only woman to enter that event.  I made my way up to the medal podium, standing alone.  With a “Donate Life” fan in one hand, and a picture of my donor in the other, I shouted, “This is my donor!” and then pointed “There is my donor family,” and the crowd roared.  A win at the games is never done alone, but of all the people involved in the process, my donor family is the most precious.

It is a really wonderful and somewhat strange relationship that I have with my donor family considering how we met.  The only thing missing, of course, is Justin, my donor.  I would do anything if I could bring him back to be able to share this experience with us.  But, he was there in spirit, in the hearts of my donor family and as I struggled to pull myself through the water and breathed heavily at the finish line.

Karen A. Couture,
Diagnosis: Lymphangioleiomyomatosis (LAM)
Double-Lung Transplant, January 21, 1996
Shands Hospital, University of Florida, Gainesville, Florida