"I gave my mother my kidney"

Wagema Karanja stepped up to the plate when his mother needed him to donate an organ and he doesn't regret a minute of it

I am a married father of three. In 2013, when my children were aged eight and six years of age, and the baby was two months old, my mum fell sick. She needed a kidney to survive, and many family members offered theirs.

We did several tests, primarily blood matching – to determine if our blood groups matched, as well as tests to determine our health in order to minimize the incidence of infection. By the time we were through with the gene testing my results were found to be the closest to perfect.

My mum had been to India previously, the Apollo Hospital in New Delhi. We went back with her in May 2014. I checked in on Sunday and the surgery was on Monday. It was the first time I had been admitted to hospital to go through surgery.

 Despite the fact that most of the tests had already been done before we got there, they repeated them with a more thorough rhythm and the doctors went on to prepare me for surgery.

We are prepared not just medically, but psychologically, for the changes that would come. I met about 16 specialists. They don't let you get afraid but prepare you for the course and consequence of their actions on you.

We had also watched a YouTube video and were comforted by what we saw. Initially I was not afraid because I was focused on the end result, that my mother would be well. Fear came hours before the surgery; someone came in with a shaver and the reality began to sink in.

When I woke up after the surgery I wanted to talk to my family to find out how they were doing. My sister and Dad were there. My mother was in ICU. There had been the fear of not waking up. My wife was a bit worried, and kept calling.

My dad did not have answers; the prayers back at home were pretty helpful. I was in pain, the hospital provided morphine for this. They encouraged me to start moving as soon as possible. After three days I could actually walk. I went to see Mum in ICU and this meant a lot to us both.

I travelled back to Nairobi after two weeks. My wife and I had a two-month-old baby. For the first month I had to take it easy. I wasn't on medication except for painkillers and went for dressing daily. I felt every small movement in my body.

I had to wear something that looked like a big corset to minimize these effects. My wife or brother drove me around initially but I started driving after about two months. The office was pretty helpful. In the second month of my healing I was able to lift things.

I haven't heard of anyone who has died from giving an organ. It's relatively safe. I have met a few people who have been donors and we have formed a group. Everyone talks about the recipients, not the donors so we watch out for each other. The fact that you have been a donor makes you a potential recipient if you don't take care of yourself.

My scars are really tiny. The longest is about 1 inch. They healed very well. I have no complications from the surgery. But I am more careful with what I eat. I am a sporty person so I swim a lot, since I am not able to run anymore.

I take care of myself because I do not want to go back to hospital. Water has become my new 'best friend'; I never used to drink it much before. I try to avoid getting tired. Everyone panics when I do. They worry when I have to go to hospital.

It was a delight watching my mother recover, making tea, simple joys that you can't buy. I don't think about it unless someone asks, like you did. My kids ask a lot of questions. Support structures are crucial, my family, friends and colleagues formed mine. My wife and children especially. It brought the whole family closer.