Children's 'Marv the Milkman' gets a lifesaving delivery

For 14 years, Marv the Milkman has pushed his Moo Mobile through the halls of Seattle Children's hospital, spontaneously mooing in fluent cow, dispensing high-fives and hugs, candy and cookies along with the complex liquid formulas he delivers to patients.

It's Marvin Williams' gift to young patients, who find their stays less frightening when there's a lanky man in a bow tie, spotted apron and cow hat mooing just outside the door.

Williams is more than the dietary associate who brings special drinks. He's a visitor who cheers up the sick and takes kids' minds off being frightened, co-workers say.

"He's the heart and spirit of the hospital," said Cathie Rea, Intensive Care Unit director.

Williams was on the receiving end of generosity Monday, as he received a lifesaving kidney transplant from a co-worker.

On Wednesday, Williams and donor Valerie Hoffman both were doing well in next-door rooms at Swedish Medical Center. They've visited each other and shared groggy jokes.

Williams, 50, was shocked to learn early this year that, despite years of walking five miles a day and staying slender, his blood pressure was so high that it had damaged his kidneys.

African Americans are four times more likely to develop kidney failure than Caucasians, according to Northwest Kidney Centers. But Williams, who lives on Seattle's Capitol Hill, was unaware of the risks — or that he was ill. The only symptom he had was persistent headaches.

First he underwent outpatient dialysis, but it was so time-consuming he could work only two days a week. Home dialysis had unpleasant side effects. Each treatment extended his life but took a toll on the body.

The best option was a kidney transplant, ideally from a living donor.

However, Williams has no connection to any relatives. Raised in Oakland, Calif., Williams did not know his father and describes his childhood as impoverished.

Better immunosuppressant drugs have made transplants between non-related people more successful, and there are more than 87,000 transplant-ready people in the nation waiting for anonymous donors.

But, said Williams: "How do you ask someone to give you a kidney?"

"A no-brainer"

Tom Hoffman, a painter at the hospital who had heard that Williams needed a kidney, saw Williams pushing the Moo Mobile one day and volunteered to donate. But Hoffman did not have the right blood type. But his wife, Valerie, 45, a surgical scheduler at the hospital, turned out to be a match.

The Shoreline couple discussed it and talked it over with their seven children. Everyone concurred: Marv the Milkman would get a renewed life.

"From the beginning something told me I needed to do this," Valerie Hoffman said.

"When she stood up and said she'd be the donor it was a gift from God," Williams said. "She and her whole family have been instrumental in this journey."

The decision "was a no-brainer because of who it was," Hoffman said. "It was for Marv. Who's entertaining the kids and delivering the milk and walking the halls when he's gone? He needs to get back to the hospital."

When Williams started the job 15 years ago, he came to work in scrubs, pushing a cart containing various formulas of milk. (It's now his Moo Mobile.)

"The kids would ask me what I did. I'd tell them, and they'd say, 'Like a milkman?' "

He got the OK to wear a costume and Marv the Milkman was born. Co-workers donated toy cows and signs for the Moo Mobile, and he quickly became one of the most recognizable people in the hospital — someone children look for if they visit again years later.

"When I was little, I never got to be a kid. Now I get to be a kid every day," Williams said. "I love this job."

As he lies in his hospital bed, Williams thinks of the children at the hospital who miss him. The week before, Kaden Bishop, 8, from Idaho, pulled a pole draped with IV bags and tubing toward Williams, who stopped to give him a cookie.

"I like cows because my uncles are farmers and I'm half farmer," Kaden said. "I'm going to come here every single day. We're best friends now."

Williams answered with a hug.

Farther down the hall, Seth Rea-Peatman, a 5-year-old Issaquah boy who has spent much of his life in the hospital being treated for a rare skin disease, smiled when Williams walked in. The boy has known Williams for about four years and is so taken with him that for Halloween he dressed as a cow. As Seth sat propped up in bed, Williams helped him put on a cow hat and then switched his floppy black-and-white hat for the boy's.

It will likely be some months before Williams is back at work.

He's eager for that day, for the first step toward "a whole new life," complete with a unique bond to the whole Hoffman clan.

"Thank you so much for asking about my situation," he told Tom Hoffman just before surgery. "Thank you, Valerie, for giving me life. Now I've found my family."

Nancy Bartley: 206-464-8522 or nbartley@seattletimes.com