Six months ago, I woke up in a hospital room at UAB with a new kidney and a second chance at life.
The first days were hard. I was in pain and emotionally exhausted. I worried about my wife (and kidney donor), Teneshia, who was recovering down the hall. I felt uncertain about the future. Healing from an organ transplant is a complex and sensitive process, with medication, therapy, diet, and exercise. Would my life ever be the same?
And yet, my heart was full of deep gratitude. More than ever before, I felt even closer to my community, my family, and God. I felt grounded and loved in a way that continues to drive me today. The truth is, as challenging as those early, post-op days were, they were nothing compared to the previous six months.
To be honest, 2025 didn’t go the way I had planned. The year began on the heels of a congressional race where I had fallen short of my expectations – never a good feeling in politics, especially when you’re competitive by nature. Hoping to turn the page, I returned to Montgomery, but something just didn’t feel right. I chalked it up to mild burnout and vowed to push harder. At the time, chaos at the federal level and economic uncertainty were impacting all of us. I just needed to refocus and work harder for my constituents.
But by the first week of the legislative session, I was still tired, dehydrated, and off balance. I took naps on my office couch, but the fatigue never waned. After the Governor’s State of the State address, I was too drained to join my colleagues. By that Wednesday, it was apparent to my colleagues, even the House Speaker, that something was wrong. My friend and mentor, Rep. McCampbell, insisted that I see a doctor. He actually walked me to the clinic across the street from the state house.
After tests at the clinic in Montgomery, with my primary care doctor back in Huntsville, and through hospital panels and labs, I heard the words I still can hardly believe: “Your kidneys are functioning at 14 percent.”
What?
I was working out, eating healthy, and doing everything I had been told was the right way to live. I had no personal or known family history of kidney disease. I have three young children, a wife, and a community who depend on me. And yet, somehow, here I was, searching for a donor match while doctors pushed me toward dialysis.
At first, I resisted. I’d heard horror stories about dialysis. Even the procedures leading up to transplant surgery – a left heart catheter and inserting a port – sounded intense. Luckily for me, Teneshia didn’t even hesitate. She forged ahead. As a dentist, she was better equipped to navigate the healthcare industry. As a wife and mother, she was a fierce advocate. Unbeknownst to me, Teneshia began the process to see if she was a match. With unwavering faith, she was determined to give me a kidney and save my life. “We’re not going to let this deter us. God has you. I know it,” she said.
Still, I was hesitant, to say the least. It was too risky. If something happened to her, what about our kids (then ages 8, 6, and 14)? “I am not asking you. I’m telling you,” Teneshia said. And I listened.
By Easter, my kidneys had deteriorated to the point that my doctor said, “If you don’t get on dialysis, you can’t get a left heart catheter completed and will likely have only two weeks to live.”
By May 1st, I was on at-home dialysis for eight hours overnight, living a relatively normal life during the day and spending my nights hooked up to a machine. Throughout it all, Teneshia was my champion and caregiver. She spoke with experts, learned how to administer dialysis, and enlisted my friends and family to keep me encouraged and upbeat.
Teneshia did all of this while running her two dental practices and raising our family. And in June, she gained another title: wife, mom, and kidney donor.
Today, six months after my transplant, our lives are very different from last year. In addition to sharing a kidney, we are now focused on living a balanced and paced life. Family time is our priority. Our faith is ever-present. We’re closer than ever, and we have the scars to prove it. The moments Teneshia and I shared after waking up from surgery, holding hands, and tearfully looking into each other’s eyes were about as intimate as it gets.
On top of that, I’ve gained an invaluable perspective. This season served as a powerful reminder of why I chose public service. Serving people is what drives the sacrifice and commitment my office demands. This experience deepened that calling by placing me in a position of need. It is not always comfortable. The truth is, we all need help sometimes, and my family was blessed to receive it.
We had access to world-class doctors and top-notch care. We also had a community, a network of people from across Alabama and the country, who helped keep life as normal as possible by dropping off meals, assisting with childcare and carpooling, providing housing for family members, prayer, and much more.
Unfortunately, not everyone is as fortunate. Many struggle to pay medical bills, get access to quality care, or find a donor. On top of that, there is no shortage of challenges that patients and their families may not see coming.
I am using my second chance to help change that by advocating stronger and louder than ever. In the legislature, I am working with one of my colleagues and the American Kidney Fund on legislation to support organ donors by preventing disability or life insurance policies from dropping donors, providing paid time off for state employees who donate organs, and creating tax incentives for private-sector employers who allow their employees to do the same. I’m also committed to helping the Alabama Kidney
Foundation support patients, raise awareness of organ donation, and educate communities about kidney disease prevention and treatment.
Additionally, I plan to help support full-service or satellite kidney clinics statewide that provide comprehensive pre-evaluation and post-care services, with intentional placement near rural and underserved communities. This approach will reduce travel burdens, improve transplant readiness and outcomes, and close longstanding gaps in access to kidney care.
Life is full of mysteries. We still don’t know why I experienced kidney failure. Doctors say it could be COVID-related, but a life-threatening emergency can happen to anyone at any time. I was blessed to survive and to gain a renewed appreciation for life as a husband, father, and lawmaker.
Maybe it was God’s way of showing me a different way to live and serve others. Maybe it was His way of showing how much I was loved and what it truly means to give back. So, to everyone who helped my family and me throughout 2025: Thank you, God Bless You, and Happy New Year.
