From Fighter Pilot Dreams to Kidney Transplant: Kevin's Journey

The Dream of Flight

As children, we look to our parents and adults and think to ourselves, What do I want to be when I grow up? As we grow and enter high school, that question becomes a bit more real. For Kevin, the answer was clear: I’m going to be a fighter pilot.

2002 pre-diagnosis refueling helicopters over the Philippines 

After speaking with a cousin who recommended the Marines, Kevin enlisted at 18. After a few short years of rigorous training, Kevin’s dream was coming true—he was flying around the world, living the life he had envisioned. However, on the day before the most important mission of his life, "The Fish Hook", he underwent a routine pre-mission check-up to ensure he was fit to fly. During this check-up, doctors discovered blood in his urine, a finding that grounded him from the mission and set off a series of tests that ultimately led to his diagnosis: IgA nephropathy (IgAN), a rare, chronic kidney condition. At just 21, Kevin’s Fish Hook Mission was replaced with a flight to Hawaii, where the closest nephrologist was located. Here, he would face the reality that his career—and his dream—was over.

He found little support or guidance for navigating his new reality. Unlike many who unfortunately don’t receive a diagnosis until their disease is much more advanced, Kevin had no symptoms and no immediate physical changes. He felt completely normal, yet was not allowed to fly because of his diagnosis. He faced a crossroads: What do I do next? What does my future look like? Who am I without the Marines?

He began treatments for a condition he felt no symptoms for that left him feeling worse than he did before.

To find some solace, he leaned on camaraderie. After his diagnosis, he became one of two Marines left on base, as everyone else was oversees at war. Kevin bonded with this newfound friend, PJ, at Marine Corps Air Station Miramar. Despite feeling terrible from treatment, PJ helped Kevin rebuild his strength by forcing him to workout whenever he did. Slowly, Kevin started to feel more and more like himself.

After both received honorable discharges, Kevin and PJ embarked on a road trip across the country to visit their families. Unfortunately, their journey was cut short by the sudden death of PJ’s father. This heartbreaking turn only added to the uncertainty Kevin faced as he began a new chapter of his life, now without PJ by his side.

Kevin finding joy in his new career at Cal Train

Mourning a Dream and Navigating Diagnosis

For Kevin, the hardest part of his diagnosis wasn’t the illness itself but losing his dream. At the time of his diagnosis, he had no symptoms and no immediate physical changes. He felt perfectly fine, however, he was forced to confront the reality of life without the Marines. Many people with chronic conditions go through a period of mourning, grieving the life they thought they would have but can no longer live. While IgAN isn’t a life sentence, it is a lifelong battle.

Like many autoimmune diseases, the onset of IgAN can often be triggered by a virus. It’s easy to think, “what if I didn’t get that flu, would I still have gotten IgAN?” But Kevin’s accepted this is how it was always going to be. There’s peace in acceptance.

Finding Strength in Community

The camaraderie Kevin found with his fellow Marine was pivotal. Together, they navigated the transition from military life, finding strength in their shared experience. After their discharges, their road trip—despite its premature end —was a reminder of the importance of connection and resilience.

From Symptom-free to Dialysis

For nearly 13 years post-diagnosis, Kevin remained asymptomatic. Life moved forward, but in 2016, chronic fatigue began to creep in, signaling the next stage of his battle with IgAN. He was finally able to get on a kidney transplant list, but it was a waiting game to see when one would become available. By March of 2017, Kevin’s condition worsened to the point that he needed to start dialysis. After a series of infections that caused crippling pain, he underwent hemodialysis every three days for three months. This treatment was grueling and left him feeling nearly always awful. Kevin eventually transitioned to peritoneal dialysis, a self-administered daily treatment he could perform at home, which was much more tolerable than the hemodialysis.

In 2019, Kevin received his first call for a kidney transplant. Elated, he flew to Portland, Oregon, the next day, as he needed to get prepped for surgery ASAP. However, 20 vials of blood later, after undergoing testing and preparing for surgery, he was told the kidney was no longer viable. His hopes were crushed, as another dream of a life he could’ve had was swept away.

4-year transplant anniversary with Walter on Veterans Day 2024

He returned to his life of dialysis and working through pain and fatigue. On November 9, 2020, Kevin received his second call. With tempered expectations, he thought, Something will go wrong. I’m not getting a kidney today. But this time, everything went as planned. On November 10, 2020—coincidentally the Marine Corps’ birthday—Kevin received his life-changing kidney transplant.

Life After Transplant

Now, four years post-transplant, Kevin feels significantly better than he did before. The fatigue that once made daily life unbearable is gone. Two to three months after his transplant, he was already hiking and mountain biking.

Kevin’s recovery was unique. The kidney he received was from a 7-year-old child, so he needed two kidneys instead of just one. Training these small kidneys to function in his adult body was an adjustment, but now, Kevin has 98% kidney function (better than most adults!). He wrote to the mother of his donor, and she sent him a photo of her son. He still has this picture of the little boy who gave him this second chance – a gratitude that’s inexplicable.

Today, Kevin lives in the Bay Area with his unusually tall, playful beagle, Walter, and works as an engineer. 

Kevin reminds us all that there is life after the crushing of a dream or the heartbreak of a chronic diagnosis. His advice, though short and sweet, is something many of us can relate to:

“Just keep going. It will work out. Just keep going.”