The family would like to tell you a little about how it feels when you are suddenly put in the position of having to decide whether to donate the organs of a loved one.
When the doctors come into the room and tell you "unfortunately, all tests to date have proven negative and it would seem that we have a case of "brain death". This special person is not going to wake up...in fact, if he were detached from all the equipment he is hooked up to, then he would not be able to breathe on his own and would most certainly be clinically dead in seconds.

The world seems to stop still; you cannot comprehend what has just been said. Then the doctor asks you if you would consider organ donation and was "the person" a donor. You stare at the doctor in disbelief, then comes the answer..."of course, yes, he was a donor and you would agree that he would want that to be the case". What have you just said..?
The family sit and stare at each other and the doctor/s tell you that they will leave you alone to discuss the situation and hopefully reach a united agreement. (If any family member is against donation then it cannot go ahead) Quiet discussion takes place but you all know what the answer is. He would want to donate his organs.

On that day back in October 1998 our family found ourselves in this very position. My brother had been fatally injured in a workplace incident and had suffered irreversible brain damage. Though his appearance in the hospital bed was merely that of an unconscious person we were told by doctors and specialists that his body would not function without the machines he was attached to.

Sitting together in a room at John Flynn Hospital our family were approached by doctors in relation to donating Peter's organs. Through the tears and disbelief we all agreed that Peter would want this. His wallet was locked in his truck on the worksite so there was no opportunity to refer to his licence as to whether he had ticked the donor square, but in his case this was not necessary.

Peter was a skipper for Air Sea Rescue at Point Danger. He had spent 6years as a volunteer and had rescued many people and craft. He was directly responsible for saving many lives in the Tweed. So we knew he would want to continue that work...even in death. He was always a "giving" person.

My mum and dad, together with Nicole (Pete's fiancée) and her family and a small group of close friends gathered in the room sat shocked, almost speechless, not knowing what to do next...a feeling of being completely helpless hung over our group. Quiet tears flowed from all present, hands were held, and everybody gave supportive hugs to anyone who needed one. All we could do was shake our heads...how could this be happening. We hoped that any minute a doctor would come into the room with the news that Pete had just showed some sort of brain activity in the tests or even better, that he had regained consciousness...but this was not to be. Our mate was not coming back!

By six o'clock that night (after the six hours of obligatory testing) Peter was pronounced as suffering "brain death". That is when the procedure began for giving the authorisation to donate his organs. Two doctors addressed the family regarding the protocol and what paperwork would have to be signed. The family was united in its agreement to consent to the donation so everything was simplified.

The doctors were very caring and spent time explaining what organs and tissue could be used in lifesaving operations for others. We could specify particular organs etc. but my mum just said that they could take anything they needed for others. (Often donor families will only allow for the donation of a heart or kidneys specifically)
All through the day we each spent time with Peter in the ICU. Standing over the body of your loved one, watching him appear to be breathing and the only visible injury was covered by a bandage around his head...it is hard to comprehend that he was not "alive". The very caring ICU staff explained to us that he would not be able to breathe on his own, this was merely to keep his organs operational and in good condition for transplant. So all we could do was hold his hand, stroke his face and when I said to the nurse I felt I wanted to give him a cuddle, she said "go ahead, it can't hurt him now". We did all these things, I suppose, to help ourselves cope with what was happening, to enable us to come to grips with the fact that we would not be able to see him or touch him after that day.

By 8 o'clock that night the transplant/retrieval teams were on their way from the PA Hospital in Brisbane to perform the organ harvest operations...we knew that on another level of this there were people on their way to hospital somewhere knowing that in a few hours they would receive new organs and their lives would be saved. That flicked through our minds when the doctors explained what would take place at the other end of this scenario...but for us it did not take away the pain of losing a much loved son, brother and friend.
Mum had asked that after the operations he be given the last rites ...that was important for her.

We decided that it would not be necessary to stay through the night and we all said our final goodbyes to Pete. The tears would not stop and our close family group stood together huddled outside the hospital entrance not wanting to leave each other. It all seemed like it was happening in a fog, or in slow motion...there was a definite numbness to it all.
During that night and into the early hours of the next day the surgeons did what they had to. At 4.30am I phoned the hospital and they told me the procedures were just completed. We were able to go back to see Pete if we wanted but we had already said our goodbyes the night before.

I remember watching the sun come up that morning and walking in the garden at 5am knowing that my brother would never see another sunrise...then I thought about the people who were looking at that day as a beginning...another chance at life with the possibility of a healthy future...because of my brother's death and subsequent organ donation. I realised that he had not died in vain and that he would now help others to go on living. The tears still came but there was a feint hint of satisfaction in knowing all of him did not die and part of him would go on living.

Over the following months we received correspondence from two of the recipients. Their letters were filled with emotion and expressed eternal gratitude for the gift of these organs. They told us a little about themselves, their lives before and after their illnesses struck and about their families and work. All communication must be anonymous so, though you have details, they are not specific.

I responded to their letters and cards just before Xmas, knowing how important it would be for them to know that we were happy that they were doing so well and had great improvement in their health and lives. That was my gift to them...telling them how much our family wanted them to live on and do well. My mother has since written to them and they continue to send updates. It is quite satisfying to know what Peter's organ donation has brought about for them.

Since then another of the recipients, a young mother, has also corresponded and told us of her life before and after transplant...another truly touching story
We were told that his donation saved six lives a young mother received a double lung transplant, a young family man received one kidney, another man received a kidney, two other men received heart valves and a young man received a new liver. There were other tissue transplants and others had their eyesight restored with corneal transplants.

It is obvious how important organ donation is. Though it can only take place at the most tragic time for one family...it gives new life and hope for the future to the recipients and their families. It can give back a sick parent to a family or give back a sick child to their parents. There is no doubt about the significance of being an organ donor.
As a family who lost a loved one 18 months ago, we have had time to think and we feel great pride in Peter's life as well as now in his death and what benefit he was to others. Nothing can ever bring back this lovable son, brother and mate but knowing that he is still able to help others...even in death is a source of great pride and satisfaction to all of us.
If the time were to come for a decision like this in anyone else's life...we would have to encourage them to become donors...after all it could be a member of their family, or a friend, who is in a state of ill health, awaiting a transplant. In general, people think it will never happen to them, but believe me, it can happen...IT HAPPENED TO US!

Tick your licence, tell everyone your wishes, carry a donor card in your wallet or purse and convince any family members that you want your wishes fulfilled.
By the way: we would like to see a register established whereby donor families and recipients who wish to meet can register mutual interest and be introduced. Like it is done with adoption procedures. Current legislation does not allow this. All communications and information is anonymous.

Back to the top