
Will I get my transplant before I have to start dialysis?
It is a simple question, but for a young man with advanced kidney disease, it carries enormous emotional weight. He has just been listed for a kidney transplant from his father, yet his kidney function is declining and dialysis may soon be necessary. He is caught between two possibilities: the treatment he hopes will restore a more normal life and the treatment he has hoped to avoid.
The medical question is whether a preemptive transplant—receiving a transplant before dialysis becomes necessary—is possible. The psychological question is more complicated: What does it mean if I need dialysis first? Have I failed? Will dialysis change me? Will my father still be able to give me his kidney? And, perhaps most importantly, can I allow myself to hope?
When a living donor is available, preemptive transplantation is generally desirable. Patients who receive a transplant before starting dialysis tend to have better outcomes than those who spend substantial time on dialysis. Avoiding dialysis may also reduce some of the physical and psychological burdens associated with becoming dependent on a treatment that occupies several hours of several days each week.
Yet the timing cannot always be controlled. Evaluation of the donor and recipient requires medical testing, immunological assessment, surgical planning and sometimes additional investigations. A donor may need further medical evaluation, or logistical issues may delay surgery. Meanwhile, the recipient’s kidney function may continue to decline.
The decision to begin dialysis is not based on a particular creatinine or eGFR value alone. Symptoms, fluid balance, potassium and acid-base abnormalities, nutritional status and overall clinical condition all matter. Some patients with very low kidney function remain stable for some time; others develop symptoms or complications that make dialysis necessary sooner than anticipated.
This uncertainty can be particularly difficult for a young person. Dialysis may become a psychological dividing line: before dialysis, there is still the possibility of being “normal”; afterward, he has become a “kidney patient.” The prospect can threaten independence and identity at a stage of life when autonomy, work, relationships and future plans are particularly important.
There is another dimension when the donor is a parent. The father’s kidney may be experienced as a gift, an expression of love, and a source of obligation. A son may feel grateful while also worrying about what his father is risking for him. He may wonder whether accepting the kidney makes him dependent or indebted. These feelings can remain unspoken because everyone is focused on receiving a transplant.
The question “Will I need dialysis before my transplant?” may therefore represent more than a simple question. It can express a wish to maintain control over a situation that is fundamentally uncertain. If he prepares himself emotionally for transplantation and then needs dialysis first, the temporary treatment may feel like a defeat, even though medically it is perceived simply as a bridge.
It is helpful to prepare patients for both possibilities. Rather than promising that transplantation will occur before dialysis, clinicians can explain that the goal is to proceed with transplantation as soon as it is safely possible while also making a plan for dialysis if necessary. Having both plans can paradoxically reduce anxiety. The patient no longer has to choose between hope and an unwelcome reality.
If dialysis becomes necessary, it should be framed not as a failure of the transplant plan but as temporary support while waiting for definitive treatment. For some patients, dialysis may last only a short time before transplantation. Its meaning can be different when understood as one stage in a larger treatment journey.
Psychonephrology has an important role during this period of waiting. The task is not to eliminate uncertainty—something medicine often cannot do—but to help the patient tolerate it. Anxiety may intensify when there is no clear timeline. Patients may repeatedly check laboratory results, calculate how long they have before dialysis, or seek reassurance that their kidney function will “hold out.” These are understandable attempts to regain control.
Clinicians may feel pressured in how to respond, reluctant to offer false hope. It may be helpful to acknowledge the uncertainty without offering false reassurance: “We cannot know exactly when dialysis will become necessary, but we can monitor you carefully, prepare for it if needed, and continue working toward your transplant.”
The emotional complexity may become even greater if the transplant does not go as hoped. Rejection is a medical possibility, even with careful matching and modern immunosuppression. For the recipient, however, rejection may feel like much more than a biological event. When the kidney has been donated by a father, the patient may experience rejection as having failed to protect something precious that his father gave him.
He may think, “My father went through all of this for me, and I couldn’t keep his kidney.” Such thoughts can generate profound guilt, even when rejection occurs despite appropriate treatment and adherence. There may also be fear of disappointing the donor: “How can I tell my father that his kidney didn’t work?”
These feelings should ideally be anticipated rather than addressed only after a crisis. This distinction is psychologically important. The patient is receiving a gift, not accepting a responsibility to make the gift succeed. If rejection occurs, it is not a moral failure, a failure of gratitude, or evidence that the recipient has let the donor down.
There may also be grief and anger. The patient may grieve the loss of the future he imagined with his new kidney and feel angry with his body or illness. At the same time, he may feel guilty about that anger because his father has made such a generous sacrifice. Giving these contradictory emotions a place in the conversation can prevent them from becoming sources of shame.
For someone standing between dialysis and transplantation, the goal is not to make every step predictable. Dialysis, if necessary, can be a bridge rather than a defeat. Transplantation can remain a source of hope without becoming a promise. And the father’s gift can be understood not as an obligation to produce a particular outcome, but as an act of generosity within a relationship that existed long before kidney disease entered their lives.
About the Author
Dr Gavril Hercz
Dr. Gavril Hercz is a nephrologist at Humber River Health and Associate Professor of Medicine, University of Toronto. He completed his psychoanalytic training at the Toronto Psychoanalytic Institute and is a member of the Canadian Psychoanalytic Society. His major area of interest is the impact of physical illness on patients, families, and caregivers.
This uncertainty can be particularly difficult for a young person. Dialysis may become a psychological dividing line: before dialysis, there is still the possibility of being “normal”; afterward, he has become a “kidney patient.”
