26/09/2025
This week is Organ Donation Week – and we’re joining the national campaign to get more people to sign up as organ donors to help save lives.
Today, we are sharing a poignant story from Paul Hendy-Gardner, who works at our hospital. Paul lost his nephew earlier this year, following a road traffic collision.
Organ donation is the gift of an organ to help someone who needs a transplant. Thousands of lives in the UK are saved or transformed each year by organ transplants.
The 18-year-old had registered as an organ donor – and, in this moving piece, Paul describes how this decision led to the gift of life for others while bringing some solace at a time of grief.
"Losing My Nephew and the Gift of Organ Donation
As a healthcare professional, I’ve spent my career at the frontline, the last 8 years in Accident and Emergency. I've comforted families, advocated for patients, and witnessed moments of both devastation and hope. Nothing in my training or experience prepared me for the day I stood on the other side as a grieving uncle, watching my 18-year-old nephew fight for his life after a tragic road traffic accident.
It was a Wednesday morning when the call came. My sister's voice on the other end of the phone, saying words no one ever wants to hear. There’s been an accident. The next few hours and days were a blur — the kind of surreal haze I’ve seen play out so many times for others in the hospital, only now it was my family navigating this journey.
My nephew was on his way to work when the bike he was on was struck. By the time emergency services arrived, he had already sustained catastrophic injuries. When we arrived at the first hospital, he was intubated, sedated, surrounded by machines keeping his body functioning. I knew the signs. I had seen them before in patients with similar injuries. Still, I clung to hope — because that’s what you do when it’s someone you love.
He was transferred to Addenbrooke’s from the NNUH. Over the next 24 hours, a team of exceptional Neurological critical care specialists did everything possible. The next day scans confirmed the extent of the brain damage; the conversations slowly shifted from recovery to reality. My nephew was declared brain dead — a diagnosis that, as a medical professional, I understood all too well. But as his uncle, it was shattering news I wasn’t ready to accept.
I looked at my sister — his mother — whose world had just collapsed. Amid her tears, I saw a strength I didn’t know was possible. We sat together in the sterile and hot family room. This is where the organ donation journey started. My nephew registered as an organ donor when he was old enough to.
My sister was facing unbearable loss and the chance to let her son’s legacy live on. Working in healthcare I have attended the Organ Donation study day, and seen other families go through this. I’ve seen the profound ripple effects — the lives saved, the families given second chances. But I also know how impossibly hard that decision is during fresh grief.
In the end, it was my nephew who made the decision for us. We honoured his wishes.
The hours that followed were sacred in a way that’s hard to describe. The NNCU team treated him with reverence and respect. They guided us and we shared our pain, loss, suffering, and grief. They understood that although he was no longer alive in the medical sense, to us, he was still our boy. His body was still warm, his chest still rising with the help of machines, his hand still familiar in mine. The transplant team coordinated everything with compassion and precision. They explained what would happen, answered every question, and gave us time.
When the time came, we said goodbye — not in the dramatic way portrayed in films or television dramas, but in quiet, painful moments filled with love and disbelief. I kissed his forehead, whispered words I hope reached wherever his soul had gone, and watched the medical team prepare him for his final journey.
In the days that followed, we learned that he had saved four lives. His heart, liver and both kidneys. Each had gone to someone who had been waiting, hoping, perhaps preparing for the worst.
As we grieved, knowing that part of him lived on brought a strange kind of peace. It didn’t take away the pain, but it gave our loss meaning. His death, senseless and sudden, was not the end of his story.
Organ donation is often misunderstood. There are myths, fears, and misconceptions. Some believe it’s cold or clinical — but I’ve seen the truth. It’s a deeply human, generous act. It’s born of love and loss, of wanting something good to rise from tragedy. It’s a way for someone to write a final chapter filled with grace.
For our family, the grief remains. There’s also pride in his short 18 years, he has left a legacy that will endure for decades in the lives of others.
To those considering organ donation, or to those faced with the unthinkable choice of making that decision for a loved one, I offer this: it is an act of profound compassion. In the darkest hour, it offers a glimmer of light — not only for the recipients, but for the grieving hearts left behind. It doesn’t erase the pain, but it gives the loss a purpose."
Confirm your decision on the Organ Donation Register today, you can find the link in the comments.
