When Christopher Kennedy went for an X-ray prior to a routine operation, he expected a quick visit. Then a technician noticed scarring in his lungs.
Kennedy, who was 68 at the time, had never experienced any noticeable symptoms. As a retired Air Force technician, he led an active lifestyle, enjoying landscaping and training his Bernese Mountain dogs as therapy animals for hospitals.
After undergoing several tests, a pulmonologist delivered a shocking diagnosis: Idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis (IPF). This lung disease, characterized by the formation of scar tissue, hinders oxygen transfer to the bloodstream. Dr. Panagis Galiatsatos, a pulmonologist at Johns Hopkins and a spokesperson for the American Lung Association, noted that the condition is progressive and carries a “high mortality rate.”
Initially, Kennedy thought he could overcome the illness. However, as his lung function worsened, he realized that idea was misguided. The medications designed to slow the fibrosis were ineffective, and he began needing oxygen for everyday activities. Walking to the kitchen left him out of breath. By 2024, Dr. Aman Pande at the Cleveland Clinic confirmed his fears: he had less than a year to live.
“We all wonder how we’re going to go,” Kennedy reflected. “And you never know. It’s a mystery. For the first time, I was told, ‘This is how you’re going to go.’
“You come out one of two ways”
Pande presented Kennedy with one option: exploring eligibility for a double-lung transplant. Although he was 74, which is older than the average transplant patient, Pande considered him a fitting candidate. Lung transplants are typically a last resort for IPF patients and can be curative, though recurrence is possible in some cases.
Initially hesitant, partly because his younger brother had died following the same procedure, Kennedy was persuaded by Pande to undergo testing. Cleveland Clinic doctors thoroughly evaluated him, and eventually, he was approved as a transplant candidate. He was placed on the national transplant list, waiting for a suitable pair of lungs.
As time went on, Kennedy’s lung condition deteriorated. His oxygen needs increased from two liters to ten per day. He even contracted a mild case of COVID-19 and lost over 40 pounds. By October 2025, he was hospitalized.
Dr. Jason Turkowski, a transplant pulmonologist, quipped, “OK, you come out one of two ways: with a set of lungs, or we’ll carry you out,” Kennedy recalled.
“You’re reminded every breath matters”
Kennedy spent a month in the hospital, facing two near-misses where lungs seemed available, but ultimately were not. Then on November 15, he had a successful double-lung transplant.
“It was a relief. I was anxious, obviously. I remember the chaos in the operating room, with everyone preparing for my surgery. The next thing I knew, I was in my room,” he said.
Just hours post-surgery, his lung capacity improved significantly. He experienced several setbacks, including a post-operative infection and a stroke, but his resilience aided his recovery, according to pulmonologist Rachel Powers, who has supported him through his post-transplant care.
“I’m really proud of him,” Powers remarked. “He has maintained a positive attitude throughout his recovery, which has been crucial for overcoming the challenges he faced.”
At 75, life has returned to a sense of normalcy for Kennedy. Recent tests indicate his lung capacity is at 98%. He enjoys spending time with his family, exercising at home, and has even walked his dog without feeling breathless. He’s nearing the completion of training Fini, his Bernese Mountain dog, to be a hospital therapy dog.
Initially, Kennedy thought Fini would be the last therapy dog he trained, naming him in honor of the retirement flights of Air Force members. But soon, he will be welcoming a new puppy, whom he plans to name Encore, celebrating his second chance at life. Training therapy dogs has taken on even greater significance following his health journey.
“So many aspects of my life have changed. It puts everything into perspective, helping me understand what truly matters,” Kennedy said. “You tend to take every breath for granted—why wouldn’t you? But when they become difficult, it really drives home just how valuable each breath is. It keeps me grounded.”
