Donor by Ken McClure Read Free Book Online

‘Amanda’s blood is becoming contaminated almost as quickly as we clean it. She’s been requiring much more dialysis than we anticipated. We thought things would settle down after a fortnight or so, but that’s not been the case, I’m afraid. We think it may have something to do with a tissue-degradation problem in her kidneys.’
    Tissue degradation! The words echoed round and round in Sandy’s head. ‘You mean her kidneys are breaking up?’ he asked. His throat was tight and it showed in his voice. He had to swallow.
    Grayson shrugged and said, ‘That’s our theory at the moment. Of course, we’ll have to wait until we get a full histology report before we can be absolutely certain.’
    Sandy felt that he was listening to a garage mechanic tell him what was wrong with his car, rather than a doctor pronouncing on his daughter’s condition. What made a man like this become a doctor? It wasn’t the first time he had wondered this same thing. His job had brought him into contact with a number of people in the medical profession who he felt lacked any basic compassion for the sick. They didn’t see people in front of them, only cases, intellectual challenges, problems to solve, games to win or lose in the struggle to advance a career.
    ‘I take it this means that we’ll not be getting her home in the near future?’ said Kate.
    ‘Out of the question,’ said Grayson.
    Kate looked down at the floor and clasped her hands, twisting her fingers as she listened to Grayson continue.
    ‘The fact is, I’m sorry to say, that Amanda is one of these patients for whom dialysis just isn’t good enough. It isn’t working. She really needs a transplant.’
    ‘Or she’ll die,’ said Kate in a flat monotone.
    There was an agonized silence in the room before Grayson said quietly, ‘That is a possibility, I’m afraid.’
    Sandy saw that Kate had stopped fidgeting. Her hands lay still in her lap and her face was perfectly calm. It unnerved him. He reached across and laid his hand on top of Kate’s. They were ice-cold. The tightness in his throat still made talking difficult but he asked Grayson, ‘Surely there must be some kind of priority given to such cases?’
    ‘Of course. Amanda will be given urgent status on the transplant register,’ agreed Grayson.
    ‘What does that mean in practice?’
    ‘It means that she will be allowed to jump the queue if a suitable organ should become available, but of course we’ll still be constrained by considerations of tissue type. The organ has to be a good match for her.’
    ‘What about us?’ asked Kate.
    ‘I was about to suggest that,’ said Grayson. ‘It’s possible that either you or your husband might prove to be a suitable donor and we’ll certainly check your tissue type, but I don’t think you should bank on this. It happens less frequently than people imagine. A brother or sister would be a better bet and a twin would be ideal, but of course Amanda is an only child.’
    ‘So if neither of us matches her type we’ll just have to wait and hope?’
    ‘That’s about the size of it.’
    ‘How much time have we got?’
    ‘Impossible to say, I’m afraid,’ replied Grayson curtly.
    ‘Doesn’t it concern you at all?’ said Sandy, his patience with Grayson’s apparent callousness finally giving out.
    ‘I beg your pardon?’
    ‘Our daughter’s plight. Aren’t you concerned – as a person, I mean?’
    ‘Of course I am,’ replied Grayson, obviously flustered by the question.
    ‘You could have fooled me,’ replied Sandy flatly but Kate put a restraining hand on his arm to stop things going any further. He and Kate got up to go.
    Clive Turner, who had been silent throughout, followed them outside. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said when the door had closed behind him. ‘Dr Grayson’s a bit of a cold fish. I’m sure he means well, but he doesn’t always come across that way.’
    Sandy nodded. ‘How soon can we be tested for tissue type?’ he asked.
    ‘We can