ST. CLOUD, Minn. (AP) - Abraham Rivera was determined to donate part of his liver after his best friend died. She needed a transplant and couldn’t get a live liver donation on Puerto Rico, where she lived.
So Rivera started looking for someone who could use a part of his liver, and he found her in St. Cloud. He’ll head to the Mayo Clinic about Thanksgiving to share his healthy liver with St. Cloud State University assistant professor Bel Kambach.
The St. Cloud Times reports that Rivera, 27, was drawn to Kambach, because they share an O-positive blood type and they’re both Latino - Rivera from Puerto Rico and Kambach from the Dominican Republic. She came from coffee farmers and now teaches travel and tourism.
“I got on Bel’s Facebook page, and I see she’s a person with a full life,” Rivera said. “That’s what motivated me to try to help her.”
To Kambach, Rivera is a hero and a gift from God.
She has an autoimmune disease that has destroyed her liver’s bile ducts. She struggles to eat and sleep. She feels a constant itch and extreme pain.
“When you touch anything it’s like you’re electrocuting yourself. It’s so painful,” Kambach said. “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”
Kambach has primary biliary cholangitis, or PBC. It’s an autoimmune disease like lupus; the immune system attacks healthy parts of the body. PBC causes scarring, or cirrhosis, of the liver, which leads to other complications.
The past three years for Kambach have been “really ugly,” she said. Her body deteriorated and her symptoms got worse. More than 10 potential donors were rejected.
“Without this organ, I’m dying,” she said.
Kambach is the single mother of a 15-year-old daughter who already takes classes at St. Cloud State. Kambach has a shy, hairless dog named Max she dresses in sweaters to ward off the Minnesota cold.
And she loves the job she’s held here for 11 years.
Kambach has traveled the world. She’s been to more than 100 countries and particularly loves Finland, where she lived for a decade.
She hasn’t traveled much lately, but she does go to Germany for liver dialysis. The treatment is not available to her here, she said. Kambach will make a trip to Germany in early November to clear her blood of toxins before her Nov. 27 transplant.
She talks openly about her illness to educate people about it and to promote organ donations. She’d like a U.S. law that automatically signs people up as organ donors unless they choose to opt out.
The liver is a vital organ. It’s necessary to cleanse toxins from the blood and produce bile for digestion, among other functions.
A healthy person can donate a part of their liver. The liver will regrow in the donor and in the recipient. Live donations like that usually last longer than livers from cadavers, according to the American Transplant Foundation.
“Your liver is the most beautiful organ. … It can regenerate itself,” Kambach said. “Please take care of your liver.”
Kambach first noticed symptoms from her PBC roughly 10 years ago - her itching feet kept her awake at night.
“It’s blood deep, so you want to scratch yourself open,” she said.
Kambach’s doctors misdiagnosed her initially, she said. In 2009 they determined she had PBC. PBC flares up in times of stress and strife, such as a divorce, Kambach said.
Deposits of cholesterol beneath her skin, including on her palms, cause a lot of pain. She forces herself to eat bland food and struggles to keep it down.
The past three years have been bad, said Kambach’s sister Joan Taveras, who lives in New York City. Kambach has lost a lot of weight, her skin darkened and her eyes yellowed, Taveras said.
Taveras will care for Kambach in the months after the transplant. And Rivera’s sister will care for him. They will recover at Kambach’s St. Cloud home.
Kambach joined the Mayo Clinic’s donor list in 2015, she said. People with cancer and heavy liver damage from alcoholism got priority over her. Alcoholism is classified as a disease too, and the deterioration can appear worse than in PBC patients.
“An alcoholic would be saved before a single mother like me,” Kambach said.
Thirteen people who offered to donate part of their liver to Kambach were rejected, she said. “You start thinking, why me?”
Rivera learned he was a perfect match for Kambach while sitting in on her class at St. Cloud State University this fall.
Initially the Mayo Clinic rejected him as a donor. But in September the clinic brought Rivera in for necessary tests. He went to St. Cloud afterward; that’s how he happened to be in Kambach’s classroom when he got the news of the match.
“It was incredible for me,” he said.
While Rivera was in Minnesota, Hurricane Maria hit Puerto Rico. The hurricane decimated the U.S. territory and knocked out power across the island.
Rivera’s flights home were delayed a few days, stranding him on the main land.
“I could see him suffering,” Kambach said.
His home was not severely damaged in the hurricane and the electricity returned, turned off and returned again in mid-October, Rivera said. His family tries to save ice to conserve their food.
The Mayo Clinic offered Rivera three dates for the organ transplant, and he picked the soonest one.
Rivera’s generosity has overwhelmed Kambach and her family. Taveras just bought her flights to join Kambach for the surgery, something that seemed impossible just months ago.
“We’ve been waiting for years, but this is it,” Taveras said. “(Rivera’s) a little angel God sent to Bel.”
The transplant brings new challenges - the cost and the risk of complications.
Kambach’s surgery will cost $1 million and Rivera’s will cost a half-million, she said. She will need anti-rejection medication for the rest of her life at a cost of $7,000 a month.
Taveras is setting up fundraisers for her sister and for Rivera.
The donor and recipient will enter the hospital Thanksgiving week. The surgery will take place the following Monday. Recovery will be more intensive for Kambach, but she and Rivera will be laid up for about three months.
Kambach remembers the first time she heard from Rivera. He signed up for the donor screening and told her: “I feel I can save your life and your daughter’s,” Kambach said. “I just dropped down crying.”
The progression of Kambach’s disease has been “a very sad roller coaster,” she said. She has no quality of life; she hardly sleeps or eats. The search for a donor brought much disappointment until Rivera found her.
“Every time he communicates with me I am speechless,” Kambach said. “Only God could have done something like this.”
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Information from: St. Cloud Times, http://www.sctimes.com
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