Deadly ageism in Israel – opinion

As of January there were 857 people waiting in Israel for a kidney. I am one of them

Elderly people queue up for free surgical masks from a convenience store, following the outbreak of a new coronavirus, in Hong Kong, China February 7, 2020. (photo credit: REUTERS/TYRONE SIU)
Elderly people queue up for free surgical masks from a convenience store, following the outbreak of a new coronavirus, in Hong Kong, China February 7, 2020.
(photo credit: REUTERS/TYRONE SIU)
Last month, a member of Knesset became the 780th person to donate a kidney to a stranger under the auspices of the Matnat Chaim (Gift of Life) organization. His act indeed gave the gift of life to a recipient who would not have survived otherwise.
This act of supreme altruism by MK Chili Tropper was universally lauded, both for his selflessness and compassion, as well as his decision to capitalize on his public status in order to raise awareness of kidney donation in Israel and to encourage others to do the same.
Says Matnat Chaim founder Rabbi Avraham Heber – a kidney recipient himself – who made facilitating altruistic donations his mission after a friend died after not receiving one in time: “It is a life-saving donation that solves a problem with no other solution.”
According to the Health Ministry, as of January there were 857 people waiting in Israel for a kidney. I am one of them.
After more than two years on the waiting list and in dialysis since last May, I recently expected salvation: a donor had come forward – responding to an appeal in Facebook! I passed the scrutiny of the National Transplant Board, but for some reason it rejected my donor. Back to social media, in the hope another righteous donor will come forward.
Not so fast, Rabbi Haber explained to me. While there has been a steady increase in the live-donor pool, for some inexplicable reason, most would-be donors wish to give their kidneys to a younger person, not to a grandfather aged 70. They think a younger person has their whole life ahead of them, while an older person somehow has less to look forward to.
This is an absurd, immoral calculus. Given the average survival rate of some 20 years for a kidney transplant, and barring unforeseen complications, I could enjoy my donated kidney into my 90s. My 11 grandchildren – so far – would undoubtedly benefit from this, as would I while watching them grow. I would also like to continue into my 90s for the simple pleasures of watching myself grow.
How can someone presume that the rest of my life is somehow worth less than that of someone younger? I assert my right to keep writing, singing and playing music, scuba diving and riding a motorcycle; celebrating wedding anniversaries and grandchildren’s birthdays. Seventy might not really be the new 60, but it still bears a certain optimism for the future. The quality of life ultimately depends on the quantity of life.
The Health Ministry reports that 391 kidney transplants were performed in Israel in 2019, of which 248 – or 63% – were from living donors. By comparison, in 2009 there were some 150 kidney transplants, of which the majority were from deceased donors. This is undoubtedly encouraging, but not for the more than 200 people in their 70s like me, undergoing dialysis three times a week for four hours each session, just to stay alive.
And the clock is ticking: Without a transplant in the next year or so, I’ll become ineligible to receive a kidney due to age, and be forced to endure dialysis for the rest of my life.
Is this another bizarre first for Israel: Have we weaponized ageism, at least unconsciously? How then to explain a would-be altruistic donor’s bias in favor of a younger recipient? How can someone seeking to perform a life-giving mitzvah make it so conditional? How righteous would it be to say, for example, “I’d like to save a life, but not any life – not an Arab life, or an Ethiopian, or...” Ageism in the era of transplants is a lethal bias, particularly with regard to my cohort of grandparents in our 70s.
In the 12th century, Maimonides in the Mishneh Torah listed eight levels of giving charity, the highest of which is giving someone the ability to earn a livelihood. Had he lived today, in a world of life-saving transplants, how do you think he would rank the ability to give someone life itself?
Judaism teaches that saving a life is like saving an entire world. The mitzvah is not saving a younger life, but life itself.
The writer is a former chief copy editor and editorial writer of The Jerusalem Post.