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Waiting for a transplant Lives lost waiting Recipient of a transplant Giving the gift of life

Marilyn Wilson was 47 years old when she suddenly collapsed at work. Her daughter Lynne tells the story of what happened that day.

I grew up in a town called Holywood, which is on the shores of Belfast Lough about 6 miles from Belfast itself. I am technically a middle child, but grew up as the eldest of 2 as my older brother passed away when I was 6 months old. My other brother is 2 ½ years younger than me. Holywood is a friendly town, and my family is well liked and well known. Life in our family was fairly typical, with lots of laughs, some tears and the usual fights. We were instilled with a good sense of right and wrong, good manners and to be thoughtful of others.

On Friday August 1st 1997, 3 weeks before my 21st birthday, mum and I said our “goodbye, have a good day, see you tonight” as we both left for work that morning. During the morning I received a phone call from Simon, my 18 year old brother, telling me that mum had had a “turn” and he was on his way to collect me and go to the Royal Victoria Hospital in Belfast. On our arrival at the ICU dad told us she’d collapsed at work and they thought it was a massive heart attack. She had been sent for a scan so we had to wait to see her. Later we were told she had actually suffered a brain aneurism. A neurosurgeon informed us that there was a procedure to repair the bleed but that more tests would have to be done. So we left the hospital to go home for some rest.

The next day, Saturday, we were told that a brain stem test had shown no brain activity. By law this must be repeated by a second doctor, it too proved brain death. Apparently the brain aneurism, which was something she could have had from birth and which shows no outward symptoms, had been massive, and brain death had occurred before her body would have known what happened, she would have felt no pain.

It was completely unexpected; she had been in good health, and was only 47. My parents were 10 days away from their 25th wedding anniversary.

Shortly after we were told she was brain dead, one of the doctors brought up the subject of organ donation. Most of that day is still a blur for me, but I do remember we all agreed to organ donation as this is what she wanted. We never discussed it in any real depth, but I can remember asking my mum, when I was 14 or 15, if I could carry a donor card. My reason for wanting to was because my mum was a blood donor for many many years, a plasma donor, and carried a donor card. My father has often said it was the easiest decision to make, granting this wish.

Saying goodbye was hard; I knew that what had made her “her” was gone, but I actually said my private goodbyes the day after her funeral, alone at her grave.

Organ donation has brought us some comfort; there are days when it feels like it happened just yesterday, so remembering helps the pain. We know her liver and both kidneys were the organs donated. A man in London received one kidney; a man in Belfast received the 2nd kidney. And a lady in London, who only had weeks to live, received the liver. Through the transplant coordinator we received letters of thanks from the recipients of her liver and one kidney, and flowers from the kidney recipient in Belfast.

I want people reading to think about joining the organ donor register and let your family know your wishes; it’s worth it. Knowing my mum saved lives…I really cannot put into words how I feel. I lost my mum at a point in my life where I was beginning to appreciate her, not just as my mum but also as a friend. I am indescribably proud of her.