Donation Helps Family Celebrate Dustin’s Life
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Dustin Petersen |
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In Lisa Petersen’s favorite picture of her
brother Dustin, he’s at the top of a steep, snowcovered
ridge, wearing shorts, and a hundred-watt
smile. He and two buddies had climbed there one
early summer day with their snowboards; and
their faces show the exhilaration they are about to
feel, skimming down a mountainside near Dustin’s
home in Kalispell, Montana.
You’d have to sit with Lisa Petersen and go
page by page through the photo album devoted to
Dustin to see how happy he seemed just to be
alive: A towheaded toddler, grinning up at the
camera, a grade-school boy sopping wet in swimming
trunks on the shore of Montana’s Flathead
Lake, a young teenager persuaded to dress like a
punk for Halloween, whose tough act was
ambushed by that big smile. Later pictures show
that the cares of adulthood didn’t diminish
Dustin’s ability to enjoy things, from elk hunting
with his dad, to rocking a relative’s baby, to wearing
a best man’s tuxedo, to just sitting on the
couch with the pretty brown-haired woman he
was set to marry.
In November 2004, this 32-year-old man
with big hands and a big heart was fatally injured
in a car accident, and lay brain-dead on life support.
When Lisa’s mother Agnes called and told
her Dustin was brain-dead, Lisa says she reacted
angrily: “You get a second opinion.’ But
after my mom said, ‘No, honey, he’s
gone,’ the first words out of my mouth
were, ‘We’re going to donate, aren’t we?’”
Through the Petersens’ generous
consent to donation at a time of
numbing shock and grief, Dustin
has been honored in many ways.
His gifts of tissue have helped
patients in nearly 30 surgeries.
Dustin’s tissue recipients, who
live in Washington, Montana
and Idaho, range in age from
16 to 81. Through bone grafts alone, he helped 10
patients with spinal trauma or painful degenerative
conditions; five patients with fractured arms
or wrists that could not heal properly without a
vital bone graft; and two patients with debilitating
ankle and knee trauma.
Dustin’s tendon donations provide an especially
touching tribute. Most of his eight recipients
are young men who tore their anterior cruciate
ligaments (ACLs). Often these injuries are
sustained during the very activities, like skiing,
that Dustin loved himself. His skin grafts have
provided life-saving help to two seriously burned
patients, and one suffering from a virulent skin
infection. As a cornea donor he has given two
people sight. Finally, through kidney and liver
donation, he gave three recipients the gift of life.

“The only way I can make sense of this, the
only way I can live with this,” says Lisa, “is
through donation. I’m not happy he’s gone, but
it’s so much better that Dustin was able to help
other people. It was meant to be this way.
Dustin’s mother Agnes adds, “We’re very fortunate
in that we were able to donate.”
And his fiancée, Tonya Johnson, says, “I value
life so much now because of him. Part of him lives
on. It makes it so much easier.”
From an early age, Dustin had an easy way
of giving and receiving love. Close to his family,
“He never went through that stage where you
think your parents are stupid,” says Lisa.
Dustin once described the best time of his
life as elk hunting with his dad, whom
Lisa says was his “best friend.”
But Dustin also devoted
himself to the women
in his life. Both Lisa
and her mother
describe Dustin as a
“marshmallow,” and
Agnes adds that, “he had the warmest, softest personality. You could
hardly tease an argument out of him.”
Lisa could always count on him for
middle-of-the-night phone conversations
to work out life’s thorny problems,
or just to talk and laugh. And he
always had a hug for his mom.
Before he died, Dustin was completing
a program to become an x-ray
technician. At an outpatient clinic
where he trained, one client he cared
for was Tonya, who has rheumatoid
arthritis. “He had the best hands,” she
says, “so big and warm.” He took her
hand in his and that was it. For a second
date, Dustin asked Tonya to see a
movie, but Tonya suggested they go
fishing instead. He was hers.
Tonya’s two boys gave Dustin a
chance to exercise his natural gift with
babies and children. “He changed
diapers, made bottles, rocked them to
sleep,” she says.
Perhaps it’s a tribute to Dustin’s loving
nature that his family is able to celebrate
his life as much as they grieve him.
Donation has been part of that story.
Says his mother, who feels his loss every
day, “Why wouldn’t we make something
good out of something awful?”
“If Dustin could come back for
only five minutes, he’d say, ‘Just enjoy
what you have.’ I’m a stronger person
now. I have a deeper love for everyone
in the world because of him,”
adds Tonya.
“Although it’s a slow and painstaking
process, we are starting to heal,”
says Lisa. “It’s amazing how much the
course of your life changes when you
lose someone dear to you. I believe
strongly in donation. It was absolutely
the right thing to do. |