Christopher Kennedy expected a quick visit when he arrived for an X-ray ahead of a routine surgery. Instead, the scan revealed something he never saw coming: a technician noticed scarring in his lungs.
At 68, Kennedy had no obvious symptoms. A retired Air Force technician, he stayed active, worked on landscaping his backyard and trained Bernese Mountain dogs to serve as therapy animals in hospitals.
Further testing led to a frightening diagnosis from a pulmonologist: idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis, known as IPF. The disease has no known cause and occurs when scar tissue builds up in the lungs, making it harder for oxygen to enter the bloodstream, according to Dr. Panagis Galiatsatos, a medical spokesperson for the American Lung Association and a pulmonologist at Johns Hopkins who was not involved in Kennedy’s treatment. IPF is progressive and carries a “high mortality rate,” Galiatsatos said.
Kennedy initially believed he could “beat” the illness. But as his lung function worsened, he said he came to see that confidence as “baloney.” Drugs intended to slow the advancing fibrosis were not helping, and he increasingly needed oxygen just to get through daily tasks. Walking to the kitchen could leave him out of breath. In 2024, Cleveland Clinic pulmonologist Dr. Aman Pande delivered the news Kennedy feared most: he likely had less than a year to live.
“We all wonder, as human beings, how we’re going to go,” Kennedy said. “And you never know. It’s a great mystery. Well, for the first time in my life, I was told ‘This is how you’re going to go.’”
“You come out one of two ways”
Pande offered one possible path forward: evaluating Kennedy for a double-lung transplant. At 74, Kennedy was older than many patients who receive the surgery, but Pande said he was otherwise a strong candidate. Lung transplantation is typically the last option for people with IPF, Pande said, and it is usually curative, although the disease can return in a small percentage of patients.
Kennedy hesitated at first because his younger brother had died after undergoing the same procedure. After more encouragement from Pande, he agreed to be evaluated. Cleveland Clinic doctors “scoured everything,” Kennedy said, before ultimately approving him as a transplant candidate. His name was added to the national transplant list, and he began waiting for a matching pair of lungs.
While he waited, Kennedy continued to decline. His oxygen needs climbed from two liters a day to 10. He developed a mild case of COVID-19 and lost more than 40 pounds. By October 2024, his condition had worsened enough that he was admitted to the hospital.
“Dr. (Jason) Turowski, (a transplant pulmonologist at Cleveland Clinic) said ‘OK, we’re going to admit you and you come out one of two ways: With a set of lungs, or we’re going to carry you out,'” Kennedy recalled.
“You’re reminded every breath matters”
Kennedy spent a month in the hospital. There were two false alarms, where it seemed that a pair of lungs might be available but ultimately were not. The third time was the charm, and on Nov. 15, Kennedy underwent a double-lung transplant.
“It was a relief. I was apprehensive, obviously, and anxious. I can remember going into the operating room,” Kennedy said. “I can remember the flurry of activity, all the people that were in there getting me ready for the surgery. Next thing you know, you’re in your room.”
Just hours after the surgery, Kennedy’s lung capacity was already better than it had been in months. He had several setbacks, including a post-surgery infection and a stroke, but his “indomitable spirit” has helped him recover, said pulmonologist Rachel Powers, who has been part of Kennedy’s post-transplant care team.
“I’m very proud of him. He really has kept a very good perspective of his course of recovery,” Powers said. “He’s kept such a good outlook, and I think that’s been really important for some of the things that he’s had to overcome after transplant.”
For Kennedy, now 75, life is now beginning to feel normal again. Tests show that his lung capacity is at 98%. He is back to spending time with his wife, children and grandkids. He is able to exercise at home and was recently able to take his dog for a walk without losing his breath. He’s almost done training the canine, a Bernese Mountain dog named Fini, to be a hospital therapy dog.
Kennedy had believed Fini would be the last therapy dog he trained, and named him after the retirement flights conducted by Air Force members. But in a few weeks, he’ll be getting a new puppy. He plans to name her Encore to celebrate his own second chance. Training hospital therapy dogs has become even more meaningful after his own medical journey, he said.
“There’s a lot of things that are different in my life. It gives you great perspective and proportion of life, of what’s important and what isn’t,” Kennedy said. “You take every breath for granted, because, you know, why would you not? But as soon as they become compromised, you’re reminded every breath matters. It keeps you centered.”



