Plainfield Man Says Joy of Donating Kidney Second Only to Seeing His Kids Born

How many 28-year-old guys do you know who are sharing gifts from the heart?

Inspired by love and driven by faith, Plainfield resident Scott Kalkis is one young man who didn't just think about the spirit of giving a piece of himself. He did it. Literally. And he saved someone's life.

"You get the feeling from helping somebody that words can't explain," said Kalkis, a husband, father of three and all-around tough guy who only discusses the actual pain of his sacrifice when poked by a reporter.

A hard worker who has never experienced health problems, Kalkis recently went under the knife to give a kidney and save a life, and makes it sound like no big deal.

When asked about the painful recovery, he just says he was grateful for the quality time with his wife Ashley. When advised to wait two to four weeks before returning to work, he waited one. And if human beings didn't need at least one kidney to survive, he'd do it all again.

"In a heartbeat," Kalkis said.

This holiday tale of giving and receiving began with one simple question. It was around this time last year when Kalkis, manager of the Firestone Complete Auto Care Store near Westfield Fox Valley in Aurora, and Carlos Cerda, manager of Firestone's Bolingbrook store, attended a company holiday party.

"Carlos looked sick so I asked what was wrong," Kalkis said.

Cerda, a 57-year-old grandfather from Lockport whose decades of high blood pressure led to diabetes type II and kidney problems, told Kalkis he was on dialysis and needed a kidney transplant.

Cerda, whose nine older siblings were too old to donate, said he was waiting to learn if one of his two daughters would turn out to be a match. Kalkis said if a relative wasn't able to donate a kidney, he would.

As it turned out, Cerda's daughters'  gall bladder problems excluded them as acceptable donors.

Kalkis, who moved to Plainfield from Las Vegas three years ago for a more stable upbringing for his three young daughters, remembers the day Cerda gave him a book about kidney donation.

"It was the second Chicago Bears pre-season game," he said. "I read the book two or three times. My wife backed me up 100 percent along with my family. My mind was already set."

From there, Kalkis began a series of tests to determine if he was a suitable donor. First he had a blood test to check his blood and skin types. After two anxious weeks, Kalkis was told his blood type of O negative means he can donate to almost anyone.

"The first thing I did was call Carlos and then my wife," he said.

An "extreme amount of tests"  followed, he said, noting a CT scan with an injection of dye – which can feel like you're wetting yourself – was "kind of freaky."

With a final go-ahead from doctors at Northwestern Memorial Hospital in Chicago, surgery was scheduled for Nov. 19. Doctors discussed the risk of infection and even death during a pre-surgery meeting, but Kalkis was not deterred.

"I'm the type that just puts it in God's hands," said Kalkis, who attends Grace Baptist Church in Shorewood. "It's mind over matter. And I have an extreme amount of support from my wife and friends. My company also supported me 100 percent."

Shortly before surgery, though, Kalkis and Cerda were approached by Northwestern physicians to ask if they would participate in the paired kidney exchange. Sybil Bryant, another dialysis patient in need of a kidney, had just learned her brother Alex Lucas was not a match. But Kalkis, being type O negative, was.

"Paired exchanges provide greater access to organs to more patients, faster," said Dr. John Friedewald, transplant nephrologist at Northwestern Memorial Hospital and assistant professor of medicine and surgery at the Northwestern University Feinberg School of Medicine.

"A living donor kidney tends to work sooner and lasts longer than a deceased organ and the wait time is much shorter for the recipient."

Everyone agreed to the exchange.

"You have to help out," Kalkis said. "We're all brothers and sisters and come from the same God. It doesn't matter if you know the person or not."

Bryant, of Schaumburg, got Kalkis's kidney.

"It's a second chance at life," she said. "I didn't take care of myself before, but watch me now. I'm going to be a health nut."

Cerda got a kidney from Lucas, a Sauk Village resident who followed doctors' orders and lost 40 pounds in hopes of saving his sister before learning they were not transplant-compatible.

"Even though my kidney didn't go to my sister, it helped someone else," Lucas said.

"Instead of me giving my kidney to one person, in the long run I helped out two people," Kalkis said. "I knew Carlos still got help and I helped out another person at the same time."

Kalkis recalls little of the actual surgery.

"I remember an IV, one funny doctor (the anesthesiologist), the purple soft gas mask, a funky-shaped bed … and I saw the tools," he said. "I woke up in ICU freaked out, thinking I was in a car accident and my wife got hurt."

The panic diminished once he understood the amnesiac effects of anesthesia and was able to see his wife and parents, Randy and Annie Kalkis, of Frankfort.

"It was slow going from there," he said. "I was released the next day with an extreme amount of pain all over. Just walking hurt."

Potholes on the ride home were agony, and it took 20 minutes to get from the car to the couch where a stack of movies waited.

"The wife and I got to spend time together we hadn't been able to," he said. "I'd told my girls, 'You know Daddy's a strong guy,' but I didn't look myself and was real groggy."

Following surgery, church members called daily and cooked dinners for the Kalkis family.

Likewise, Cerda had the support of fellow parishioners at St. Dennis Church in Lockport, with many prayers and masses said for him.

"That helps the recovery knowing people care," Cerda said. "It's amazing how good I feel. I only missed one Sunday of church."

The day before Thanksgiving, the four patients – Cerda, Kalkis, Bryant and Lucas - met for the first time.

"We didn't know if we should laugh or cry," Kalkis said. "That was one of the best feelings in the world except for seeing my kids being born."

After a kidney transplant, patients are advised to wait two to four weeks to return to work. But Kalkis returned to Firestone just a week later.

"My recovery is still going on. But I love work and don't like to just sit at home," he said. "I didn't expect the pain level to be as strong as it was or to last as long, but it's well worth it."

The hardest part of recovery, he said, is asking for help.

"I can't lift anything over 10 pounds," said Kalkis, who learned to use his back and arm muscles to avoid abdominal pain. "My crew at work is amazing and there to help me in a heartbeat."

Cerda, however, has had a much easier time with recovery and doctors tell him it's because he was so sick beforehand.

"When I woke up (from surgery) I felt totally different, I had energy and I looked better," he said. "The next morning I did five laps around the hospital floor and the nurse said, 'You're the first one who's ever done that.'"

First diagnosed with high blood pressure during a high school football physical, Cerda said he did not take it seriously until 15 years ago. By then it was too late. Over time, diabetes type II, kidney problems, constant nausea and rapid weight loss followed. His appetite did improve with kidney dialysis, which involved treks to Alsip three times a week for four hours of treatment each time. But dialysis is not a cure.

"It definitely made me feel better, but it doesn't take all the toxins out," Cerda said. "As time went by, I could tell it was taking more and more out of me. I'd come home and pass out because I was so tired from the treatment. I don't know how long I would've been able to work."

The kidney transplant ended the months of agony on dialysis.

"Without Scott I'd probably still be on a waiting list somewhere," said Cerda, who returned to work Dec. 13. "If more people would help and donate, nobody would be on dialysis. The chances of something going wrong with the one kidney you have left are minimal and the fail-safes are there to help you if you help somebody else. I wish more people would understand that."

Cerda and Kalkis share more than strong faith, a kidney story or employer. They have both lost loved ones to cancer, Kalkis's grandmother and Cerda's father, who also had a kidney transplant and high blood pressure.

Cerda's wife of 35 years, Patricia, has been battling lung cancer for nine years.

Their hardships, though, haven't knocked them down for the count. The latest round has provided a kick-start of sorts.

"I appreciate my life and family and friends more," Cerda said. "I listen a lot more with everybody. With customers, I put myself in their shoes and understand their problems and empathize more."

 "I used to be the guy who would flip you off on the road," Kalkis added. "Life is way too short to have an attitude or hold a grudge."

Paired exchange is a relatively new concept in the United States, but is becoming increasingly more common with close to 750 paired transplants occurring across the country last year. To date, the transplant team at Northwestern has performed 40 paired exchanges, with more than 30 occurring in 2010.

To learn more about the living donor and kidney transplant programs, call (312) 695-0828 or visit the Northwestern Memorial Transplantation Center's website at www.nmh.org.