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The reality is that we are all in end stage something - sometimes old age. I had a malignant tumor the size of a tennis ball. So, the options were to remove it surgically, which meant removing a third of my liver. The chances are, another one will occur in the future. The second option was to do a chemo-embolization, where they inject chemo (poison) in the tissue surrounding the liver and destroy the blood vessels that were feeding it. That is called a TACE (you can look it up). It obliterated the tumor, but I have effectively taken the size of the tumor and made it into scar tissue. The rest of my liver functions normally, which is called ‘compensated liver function’, and I am extremely healthy except for the liver issues. They wanted to transplant because I still have a potential for another liver or reduced liver function at some point. So, technically, that is end stage. But when is the end? only God knows that. They only thing the rransplant folks measure is if you are alive after 5 years. The success rate is about 94% at this particular transplant Institute. What they don’t tell you is that essentially they can keep you alive, but they really don’t give a rats ass about the quality of it. Even though I was on the UNOS Transplant Register with a MELD Score of 29, I wouldn’t have been at the top of the list, which no ones what that is, perhaps 34?
Most people don’t know that if you receive a call, then you have at least a two or three day hospital visit, and the average time you are called is at least three times before you get an organ. You literally have to become a slave of the hospital system in order to “live” perhaps an extra 5 years, or 20, or whatever the amount God lets you live. Also, you take away the chance for a liver that might work for someone else. It takes more chances because not only does the liver have to be the right type, it has to be the right size, and not be rejected. When I found that I no longer had a malignant tumor, then I chose to take my name off of the list. My life is truly in God’s hands. period. This is an extremely long answer to your question, but I love to pass on the actual experience to those that might be faced with the same ordeal. Praise God!