SALT LAKE CITY — To save a life, you have to give. Delia Villalobos is one of those lives saved. She has a grandson who is nine years old. She'll get to play with him a lot more. Her kidney transplant has changed her life.

"For the better," Villalobos said in Spanish, her native language. She smiled broadly from her bed at University Hospital on Sept. 3. Her doctor checked her vitals and said her new kidney was working well. She lives in Jerome, Idaho, but is originally from Mexico.

Villalobos is the last recipient in the longest kidney transplant chain ever at University Hospital that started in June. It's a creative way of getting people in renal failure transplants despite the vast shortage of kidneys.

Here's how it worked. A donor gave her kidney to recipient 1. That person's relative, who wasn't compatible, gave to recipient 2. Donor 2, who also wasn't a match for his loved one, donated to recipient 3. Donor 4 gave to Villalobos.

"It's basically like dominoes," said Dr. Jeffrey Campsen, transplant surgeon at University Hospital. "Once the first kidney is donated, then the next kidney can be donated and the next kidney and the next kidney. They're basically going to save somebody's life. It's as generous as anything I've ever seen."

Paul Belvedere of Provo wasn't a match for his father, so he gave to recipient 2.

"The biggest deal was when my mom came off the airplane," he said. "I was like, 'Oh, this is going to be a big deal.' It just kind of turned into, 'Well, I get to do this. It's for the greater good.' I'm excited about it. I'm trying not to stress too much about it."

Recipient 2 is Brian Arthur's friend.

"When I realized what my friend was up against versus the other outcome, the other option, why wouldn't I try to help if I could?" said Arthur, a donor from Nevada. He was sitting up and eating just two days after his surgery. He said he hardly experienced any pain at all.

Jeffrey Ibsen, another donor, said it's been a spiritual experience.

"I think God put me in this situation, and once I knew that I could, that was the driving force," said Ibsen, who is from Chicago and has wife at his bedside. "I know it was the right thing to do. I've always wanted to do something generous to help somebody else, and you don't get that opportunity very often. I see it as an opportunity, really. I'm the only one healthy enough in my family to do this, so there was never a second thought."

Yvonne Ibsen, Jeffrey's wife, stroked his hair. "Oh words can't express how I feel about him. You know?" she said through tears. "I knew that that was the man he is when I married him."

Though Ibsen's recovery has been tough and painful, and he's suffered from nausea, he said he'd do it again.

For family, the process can be tough to watch.

"It scared the living daylights out of me at first," said Ana Belvedere, Paul's mother, who lives in California. "But I realize I love my father, and I would have done anything for him, so I understand that."

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Paul's parents are divorced. Ana came to Utah to support Paul through his surgery.

Paul's dad fought him on his decision to donate his kidney to him for a long time, but finally agreed.

"When we first found out that John would need a transplant, Paul was so adamant, 'I'm going to give Dad a kidney,'" said Tina Teeples, partner to Paul's dad, who lives in Provo.

The whole chain started with an altruistic donor, who gave her kidney to a stranger on the waiting list and saving the life of someone she didn't even know, making all this possible.

Her name is Chelsea Leavitt, and she lives in Riverton. She is the mother of four young children.

When she learned she wasn't a match for her cousin, she decided to donate her kidney anyway. She didn't know a single person on the transplant chain. After surgeons finished the operations, she met them at the hospital for the first time.

People discouraged her from donating her kidney, she said. After all, she has four little kids. "I was like, 'I've got eight people waiting on me,'" Leavitt said.

"I hope that everything is OK, and no more dialysis?" Leavitt asked Villalobos. "No, no," Villalobos answered, smiling, and said in Spanish she was grateful to not have to go through that any more. There is a scar on her upper arm where she was attached to the dialysis machine for many hours, several times a week.

And there were smiles all around since all the donors and recipients recovered well.

To save a life, you have to give. And sometimes giving is its own reward.

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