My name is Prince LaCarlous Jackson, and I'm 41 years old. On February 3, 2022, my life was turned upside down when I was diagnosed with kidney failure. I began dialysis treatments three days a week, each session lasting four long hours in a chair. Living in Memphis, Tennessee at the time, the emotional and physical toll was unlike anything I had ever experienced. But I refused to let the diagnosis define me. I committed to working out every other day, staying faithful, and fighting for my life. As I kept pushing, my treatment time gradually decreased – small victories that gave me hope.
Still, the journey was far from easy. Dialysis changed my appearance, affecting my confidence. I battled low self-esteem, mental distress, and a sense of isolation. However, walking daily, eating healthier, and surrounding myself with positive people brought light into my darkest days. Over time, my health improved, little by little. Even with early 4:15 a.m. wake-up calls for treatment, I kept showing up—tired, hurting, but determined.
There were moments of heartbreak as well. People I trusted promised to donate a kidney but later changed their minds. While disappointed, I understood that organ donation is a deeply personal decision. So, I turned to prayer, clinging to my faith and trusting that God had a plan.
Then, something extraordinary happened. On April 17, 2025—my father's birthday—I received a life-changing call from UCSF Medical Center in San Francisco. They told me to be on standby; they had a potential kidney match. I didn’t panic. I prayed, waited, and kept moving forward. Three days later, on Easter Sunday (April 21, 2025), while on my way to church at exactly 11:21 a.m., the definitive call came: “Get here as fast as possible.” A kidney was ready for me. As I rushed to pack, spoke with my family, and even prepared food for expected company, tears streamed down my face – a mix of joy, fear, and hope flooding in all at once.
When I arrived at the hospital, they knew who I was. The warmth and kindness of the UCSF staff made me feel like I was floating on clouds. The kidney came from a 30-year-old man in Georgia who had tragically passed away. His selfless gift saved my life. I will never forget him, and I pray for his family often. I wish I could wrap them in a hug and tell them how much their loved one meant to me.
That day, I felt reborn—with not just a new kidney, but a renewed heart and spirit. While I'm still recovering and some treatments continue, my progress is steady. I know I am healing, and I can’t wait to simply go outside, feel the breeze, and enjoy everyday activities like shopping.
To anyone out there battling kidney failure: don’t give up. This journey isn’t easy, and only those who have walked this path can fully understand. I’ve lost people I thought would be there for me, but I’ve also discovered the strength in those who stayed. Even a small circle can hold a world of love. Keep your faith, keep praying, and know that answers can come. Your breakthrough may be just around the corner. Keep fighting!
Support this cause by donating to The Kidney Project.
