Rounding Out The Numbers Game

Before I actually began working on the Donate Life Utah Campaign, I was only able to relate to the issue in terms of numbers. In my very first post titled “Organ Donation is a Numbers Game We Can Win,” I wrote about how winnable this struggle for organ donors is. What seems so elusive in other campaigns–finding a cure for breast cancer, stopping the spread of HIV/AIDS, getting enough H1N1 vaccinations to meet the demand–is completely doable in the organ donor race. The solution for the lack of transplant organs is to generate more organ donors. Simple.

As the six week campaign wore on, I came to realize that a campaign of this importance is much more nuanced. When I met people–the family of organ donation–I began to understand what we were doing was literally life-saving. With more than 1,600 new donors registered by the end of the campaign, there will likely be at least one life saved, one family changed and one critical gain realized.

I observed something magical when the donor and recipient families gathered. Joy and sorrow became a singular emotion. They understood each others’ pain and past. They hoped and they waited together. Kaidence Stephenson’s mom cried before television cameras imploring viewers to save others the way that Kaidence was saved with a new heart. Mallory Wahlstrom, a kidney donor for her brother, was poised and confident while her mom and sister watched on the sidelines, grateful for having “dodged a bullet” with Mallory and brother Andrew. Terri Chugg looked on behind dark glasses missing her daughter Bambi whose heart transplant never came.

I began to understand the role of fate in the organ equation. When Allyson Gamble caught the flu during her pregnancy, she contracted a virus that caused dilated cardiomyopathy. Over a year later the situation was unmanageable with medication and she was forced to begin the painful and agonizing wait for a new heart.  Her prayers were answered and she is today humbled and grateful for the new life. Bambi Chugg Thomas found herself in the identical position after the birth of her daughter. A mechanical heart kept her alive for a short time but her new heart never arrived and she lost her battle for life at age 24. Two women under identical circumstances experienced opposite outcomes by a twist of fate.

I met some energetic people who were turned on by this campaign. Ryan Tripp a.k.a.”Lawn Mower Boy” (because he broke two Guinness Book world records on his lawnmower as a teenager) was present, insightful and organized in his PR efforts. David Nemelka from the Quest for the Gift of Life Foundation was a Whirling Dervish with the media and the campaign workers. My fellow bloggers Vanessa, Jeanne and Vera (although we’ve never met in person) had great insights and feelings that they poured into their writing. They inspired me to be more human in my own posts.

There are some final numbers to report. In six weeks, our social media efforts which began at 0, ended with 200 Twitter followers, 600 Facebook fans and more than 1,000 unique visits to the blog. From others who have worked on organ donor campaigns, our 1,600+ new donors represented exceptional results. Southern Utah University will receive $9,000 in scholarship money. New donors broke a Guinness Book world record (previously at 142) for the number of donors to sign up in one day. About 100 people walked and ran in the inaugural Donate Life Utah 9K Race and .9K Walk.

As this phase of the campaign comes to an end, I now understand how complex and emotional the subject of organ donation is–how lives are saved while others hang in the balance. The numbers are more important to me now than when I began six weeks ago. What started as statistics–one donor saves nine lives–is more meaningful now that I have encountered some of the lives that were saved. Although my formal participation in the campaign will end, I will continue to support organ donation on my own and I will end my final post where I began in my first post. “At the end of the day, the most important number is one.  One person can make a difference,” I wrote.  I hope it was me.