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Christopher Field's tissue helped dozens of people. |
A little over two years ago, Donna Field's only son, Christopher, underwent a 14-hour surgery at Children's Hospital in Boston to correct spinal scoliosis. The surgery was a success but his recovery did not go well. Christopher, 16, developed pneumonia and his breathing became labored.
He was whisked into the intensive care unit, where Donna Field stroked her son's hand and willed him to be well. But Christopher's condition continued to deteriorate. Nine days after his surgery, moments before she learned that Christopher had died, Donna Field recalls hearing a woman ask her if she wanted Christopher to be a donor.
"I just knew I wanted to do it," said Donna Field, 47, of Middleton, a medical records keeper.
Her decision that day in July 2005 set in motion a ripple effect of tissue donations that have reached as far as Portugal. Christopher's corneas have given two people sight. His bones have been used to prepare 39 bone grafts, with two transplanted already and the remainder released for hospital use in procedures such as spinal and reconstructive surgeries. Christopher's cardiac tissue was used to patch a defect in a young boy's heart in Massachusetts.
In all, Christopher's tissue donation will have gone to almost 50 people in need, according to the New England Organ Bank.
To honor Christopher's legacy, his image will be hoisted on a Rose Bowl Parade float today, honoring 40 organ donors from across the nation. Some 37 family members of the organ donors, including Donna Field, have traveled to Pasadena, Calif., to see the parade and the float. Field's trip is being sponsored in part by the New England Organ Bank.
"This is a wonderful way to recognize and celebrate the gift of tissue donation that Christopher offered to so many others," said Sean Fitzpatrick, director of Public Affairs, for the New England Organ Bank.
For Donna Field, the Rose Bowl Parade float signifies that her son's legacy is not lost.
"My fear as a mother is that people will forget Christopher," she said. "[The float] means that people will remember him and remember the good that he did when he was here."
The float, entitled "Life Takes Flight," will be decorated with four hot air balloons adorned with 40 "floragraphs" - artistic portraits created with floral materials - of the donors. The floats will also carry 24 people whose lives were saved and renewed by organ, eye, tissue, and blood donors.
This will mark the fifth time that a float honoring organ donations has appeared in the parade. The float is sponsored by a consortium of organizations, many nonprofit groups, that promote organ and tissue donations.
The organizer is OneLegacy, a nonprofit organ and tissue recovery agency serving the Greater Los Angeles area.
Bryan Stewart, a spokesman for OneLegacy, said that Christopher's tissue donation was particularly poignant because while his muscle disorder posed challenges in his life, it did not prevent him from giving life to others.
Christopher Field, an avowed history buff and Godzillla fan, had suffered since birth from an unidentified condition that left his muscles weakened. He was also diagnosed with scoliosis. He led a largely unimpaired life, using a wheelchair only for long walks. He planned to travel to France to retrace Joan of Arc's footsteps, and hoped to visit Anne Frank's house in Amsterdam.
In 2001, he and his mother moved from Michigan to Boston to be near Children's Hospital, where she hoped a specialist might be able to identify his muscle disorder. Christopher saw doctors every six months, and visits were usually routine and doctors reported little change. Afterward, in celebration, the pair would indulge in a meal at Burger King. But at an appointment in 2005, doctors raised eyebrows and asked pointed questions about Christopher's breathing.
"We both looked at each other and we knew," Donna Field said. The doctors said his scoliosis had grown worse and immediate surgery was necessary to save his internal organs. Nine days after the surgery, Christopher suffered a pulmonary embolism and died.
"It haunts me that he never got his first love or his first kiss. He never had any of that," she said. "He never even got a driver's license."
Still, every once in a while, her heart lightens when a letter arrives in the mail announcing that another piece of Christopher's tissue has been used for transplant.
"When I get the letters, I cry," she said. "But I know it's good."
© Copyright 2008 Globe Newspaper Company.
