I’m a Republican running for lieutenant governor. As a candidate for statewide office, I’m often on the road 12 or more hours a day, crisscrossing the state and campaigning from morning until night. But two and a half years ago, I was a 32-year-old sitting in a hospital bed who had just been told my kidneys had failed and that I would need a transplant. 

There had been signs I ignored for weeks. I had trouble falling asleep at night, my ankles were swollen every day, and after walking up the one flight of steps to my apartment I needed to lean on the door to catch my breath before unlocking it. 

I found ways to explain away all these things. In truth, those were all signs of end stage kidney failure. 

So a couple days after my diagnosis, on my 33rd birthday, I received my first dialysis treatment. I was told I’d be on dialysis until I was able to get a transplant — if I was fortunate enough to get one.

Across the country, more than 90,000 people are on the waiting list for a kidney transplant, but last year only 24,670 people were fortunate enough to get one.

Waiting for a transplant often means enduring what can seem like endless rounds of dialysis, a painless treatment that nevertheless left me physically exhausted and mentally scrambled. The promise of a transplant kept me going, but sadly on average 12 people die every day waiting for a transplant.

Thankfully, my story had a different ending. Scores of friends and family volunteered to donate a kidney — to literally give of themselves so I could have a second chance at a full and healthy life. In the end, two donors rose to the top of the list — both coworkers of mine in Sen. Ron Johnson’s office. And after nine months, I walked into the hospital early on the morning of June 25, 2020, to receive a new kidney.

As I’m out campaigning, I tell this story frequently. It’s an important part of who I am, not as a candidate but as a person. The entire ordeal gave me a fresh perspective with which to view my life.

Life is short, time is precious, and we all owe a debt of gratitude to the many people who help us through each of our journeys.

What I didn’t expect is how the story is received. In just about every crowd, people knowingly nod their heads — they’ve either traveled the same path themselves or know a loved one who has. And the best reactions, really the best moments of the entire campaign, are the people who come up to me afterward to tell me their story about receiving or donating a kidney themselves.

It’s that last group, the donors, that we desperately need more of. For years there have been public awareness campaigns about organ donation, and by all means, I encourage you to sign the back of your drivers’ license to become a donor. But healthy, living kidney donors are also needed. Kidneys transplanted from living donors often lead to better results for the recipient, but of the roughly 25,000 kidney transplants last year, only about 6,000 involved living donors. 

Here’s the thing: You don’t need to be a perfect match to a recipient, and in fact you don’t even need to know someone in need to make a difference. In 2020, 835 transplants — including my own — occurred through a matching system that pairs donors and recipients who may not even live in the same state.

For donors, like my friend Mike, who donated for me; Cherie, who I met in New Richmond; Amber, who I met in Kenosha; and Mary, who I met in Kaukauna, the surgery is simple and the recovery is quick. But the difference you make in the life of someone else is profound and lasting.

There’s a lot that divides us these days, but thankfully this isn’t one of them. March is Kidney Awareness Month, so, please, take some time to think, talk with your loved ones and consider becoming a living kidney donor. And if you see me somewhere across our great state, come up, say hi and tell me your story. It will make my day.

Ben Voelkel is a candidate for lieutenant governor and a former senior aide to U.S. Senator Ron Johnson. He resides in Brookfield.