Success stories are the remedy against sorrow for doctors
Around a transplantation, a celebratory mood often prevails. The life-saving transplant is here. In reality, it is often an experience with mixed emotions. Alongside gratitude, there are also feelings of grief, mourning, and loss. How do you make room for those?
2 oktober 2026
It is with some hesitation that Jeroen van der Kris shares that he ran a marathon for the first time in his life last month. That is quite an achievement anyway, but especially when you know that he received a transplant five years ago. After living with a rare liver condition for years, he got a new liver in 2021. The transplant was not without complications; he has been hospitalized forty times since then and it is likely that he will need another transplant in the future. The fact that he nevertheless proved able to run a marathon is an achievement he is proud of.
'My doctors all think it's wonderful, too. But it's also a bit uncomfortable,' says Jeroen, who works as a book editor at NRC in daily life. 'Because I know there are many patients for whom this is not possible. They find that painful to hear and think: hello, why does it always have to be about success stories like this? That's an annoyance I regularly experience myself.'
“I should have been in the prime of my life, but I was sick. That hurts me when I think about it.”
Loss and grief
Manu Keirse is already nodding in agreement. At 80 years old, he is an authority in the field of loss and grief and, through his work in medicine, has dealt extensively with transplantations. In his oval office-like study in the Flemish Beekdal, Manu and Jeroen sit down for a dialogue.
'I'd like to say something about those success stories,' Manu Keirse says. 'In all my years in medicine, I have seen how many ambivalent feelings always play a role around an organ transplantation. Among donors, recipients, and the surviving relatives of organ donors alike. There is gratitude and there are feelings of sorrow and loss. But medicine finds it difficult to deal with that. Instead of highlighting that ambivalence, acknowledging it, and giving it the necessary attention, medicine primarily pushes success stories to the forefront. Success stories are the remedy to push away the sorrow.'
Quality of life
That a transplantation is more than just a success story is something Jeroen van der Kris can confirm. Earlier this year, his book Het Aanbod was published, detailing the history of organ transplantation intertwined with his own personal experiences. In it, one can read that the liver transplant improved his quality of life 'immensely'. Despite all the hospitalizations, he is much fitter than before. 'I am incredibly grateful for that. A gratitude that can hardly be put into words.'
Guilt and grief
At the same time, following his liver transplant, Jeroen has ended up in a new life that also turns out to involve feelings of guilt and grief. 'It wasn't until after my transplant that I actually realized how sick I had been during those twenty years prior,' he shares. 'I always thought it wasn't that bad. I was always able to work, picked up my kids from school, and was present at birthday parties. I was physically present, but not mentally, because I was always tired. It makes me still feel like I have something to make up for toward my family.'
That sense of guilt also comes with a grieving process, Jeroen says. 'It's a process to realize that I haven't lived to the fullest for 20, 25 years. I should have been in the prime of my life, but I was sick. That hurts me when I think about it.'
“With a transplantation, there is gratitude and there are feelings of sorrow and loss. But medicine finds it difficult to deal with that.”
Families falling apart
Manu Keirse knows that Jeroen is not the only one who experiences it this way. As a psychologist, Keirse was already involved in the first kidney transplants in Belgium in the 1970s. He and his colleagues examined patients before and after transplantation. The outcome: the kidney transplants were medically successful, but a third of the families fell apart afterward.
'It starts with patients looking forward to the moment of transplantation for years. That is the salvation, that is the reason to keep living,' Keirse says. 'But then it turns out differently after all. There are complications afterward. The patient is supposed to be cured, happy, and grateful. Instead, they are irritable and dead tired. That is a blow no one had anticipated.'
Anger as a reaction
Keirse continues: 'And who bears the brunt of that anger and irritability? The people closest to you. They think: come on, isn't it over yet? The transplant recipient might have hoped or expected that too. So they experience a lot of guilt about it.'
We have all forgotten what we knew so well as children, Keirse says. Namely, that anger is a normal reaction when you experience pain. 'When a child bumps their knee on the table, they say: ouch! Bad table! The pain in the knee comes out as anger. We should allow ourselves to realize more often now that this is normal.'
If it were up to Manu Keirse, he would want to teach doctors, patients, and healthcare providers—in fact, everyone—about these kinds of reactions to loss and grief. Because it is not unwillingness on the part of healthcare workers that they pay little attention to the non-physical aspects of a transplant; they simply haven't been taught enough about it.
Psychosocial care
'Yes, this really resonates with me,' Jeroen van der Kris says after listening attentively. What healthcare has done for him, he calls a feat of incredible technical ingenuity. 'Erasmus MC in Rotterdam truly belongs to the world elite. What they can do there is amazing. But there is little attention in the hospital for the mental side. Unfortunately.'
Diary
What helped Jeroen himself in the period following his transplant was keeping a diary. The fact that the diary formed the basis for a published book has been a warm embrace, Jeroen says. 'I am now invited by hospitals to talk about my experiences. If I'm being honest, that is also a form of processing. Because talking helps. And I've been allowed to talk a *lot*. It's wonderful when people listen to you like that.'
Birthday
Jeroen knows that many transplanted liver patients celebrate their 'liver birthday'. A wonderful and important concept, Keirse agrees. 'When someone dies, people have familiar rituals. With a transplant, that is much less the case. Such a birthday is a moment to reflect on that once again. And to pause.' Jeroen adds: 'I feel nothing on my chronological birthday. I feel all sorts of things on my liver birthday. I replay the film of how I got the phone call, what it was like in the hospital. It is the biggest experience of my life.'
Good resolution
Despite reflecting on it extensively himself, Jeroen does not celebrate his transplant birthday. After his transplant, he had resolved to do so, but his first 'birthday' fell right in the middle of Covid times. After that, it never happened again. 'But maybe I really should organize it for this year.'
This article comes from Transparant magazine (no. 98).
Curious about more stories and background? Read the full magazine here.
Jeroen van der Kris (1971) is a historian and book editor at NRC. He lived with the rare liver disease PSC for years and underwent a liver transplant, after which he was hospitalized more than forty times. He wrote about that experience in the book The Offer, in which he weaves his personal story with the history and ethics of organ donation.
Manu Keirse (1946) is a clinical psychologist, doctor of medicine, and professor emeritus at KU Leuven. He is considered one of the foremost experts in the Netherlands and Belgium in the fields of grief, loss, and the end-of-life phase. Through his accessible books and teaching, he has had a major influence on how healthcare providers deal with grief and meaning-making.
