Happy two year heartiversary to me. Two years ago, I was given the single most important gift I'll ever receive in my whole entire life: a second chance to live freely and love unconditionally.
It feels surreal to have made it this far. Two years ago, I would never have imagined that I'd still be here, but I'm glad to be. I feel guilty admitting this, but I don't wake up every morning and think to myself how thankful I am to be here. I know it's wrong, but I never realized how quickly I'd return to having a "normal" life, how quickly I'd become my usual ungrateful self. But I am thankful. I've experienced so much in the past two years. And no matter how unpleasant or painful or stressful some days were, I'm still thankful for them.
I met people who could fully understand my feelings and what I've been through. I went hiking for the first time. I went to the drive-in theatre. I stayed out late on so many nights with my friends. I graduated from high school. And now I'm a college student. All of those things have happened since my first heartiversary.
I think around this time last year, I was still struggling with acceptance. I'm not anymore. But I haven't gotten closure yet. I have a letter that I still need to write and mail out. I wonder if there's a reason why I've waited so long, I think it's probably due to laziness. At the same time though, I wonder if it's because I'm afraid of my donor family choosing to not respond back. I want to meet them in person someday so I can get to know her.
I don't tell people my story. I used to wonder why no one ever asked me about why I was gone when I came back to school in junior year. How many of them silently already knew? I wanted people to ask me. I don't hold anything against people for not asking. It's hard to ask about something like this, isn't it? Maybe it was because no one wanted me to feel uncomfortable. Even though I don't tell my story, I don't try to hide it. If someone finds out by reading my blog then so be it. Why should I hide? I'm not ashamed of being a heart transplant recipient and I never will be. Please don't ever feel sorry for me.
I'm not sure how much I remember from two years ago. I remember throwing up and feeling awful. I remember moments from the days I spent in the hospital like when Aisha and I played Sorry with Mike and when Kyle and I would watch Lingo together. And when Leigh, Aisha, Johnny, and I played the card game version of Sorry. Verna's kind personality and Mary Lou's cheerful disposition, I remember that too. I remember holding onto Kyle's hand when I had that dreadful NG tube put in; I hate that thing. I remember putting together a puzzle with Aisha and Nisha on the day I got out, I think it was. I don't remember being taken back to the hospital the next morning, but I do vaguely remember opening up my eyes and acknowledging that I was in the hospital; my blood pressure was insane at that time. I remember Kyle's birthday and how he shared his piece of cake with me and Aisha. I remember Halloween and how my hair was pulled into two pigtails; I still have the two hair ties somewhere. I remember crying on the morning of the procedure. I remember when Casey came to see me and brought jelly beans with her for me. I remember my Eid surprise from Bushra's family.
But my favorite moment from that time period is a sequence of moments. Dr. Scheel and Pat walked into my room one day. I thought to myself sarcastically about how they were going to tell me that they found a heart. And then Dr. Scheel said exactly that and I was so shocked that I couldn't believe her. I can't remember if that was when I started crying or not. I saw Kyle shortly after and he hugged me and said that he was happy for me. I know I was crying then.
I've come a long way in two years though. I've reached my minimum of three medications at last. I reached it a while back ago actually. Honestly, I don't know how I managed to take so many pills two years ago. I don't know how the me back then endured all of that pain. I see the scars, but I don't remember the pain. That's probably for the better. But I'm not the only who had to overcome a lot. Sometimes I wonder if it was me who went through more hardship back then or if it was my family instead. I know that I still worry them from time to time, but I think they'll always worry no matter what.
I wonder how much I've changed, if at all. I wonder because of cellular memory. It's just a theory, but I wonder if I've picked up any of her habits or if I like any of the things that she liked. It doesn't seem like I've changed much at all. I know that she was a good person. I know that her family is loving, I know that they are thoughtful and caring people. If they weren't, they never would have made the decision that they did.
My thoughts are really scattered today. Honestly, I don't even know what to write, which is why it seems like I'm rambling. I don't know what to say anymore. I'm just happy to still be here. I'm thankful for each and every day that has passed. I'm thankful to my donor family for their decision. I'm thankful to my family for always loving me and looking after me. I'm thankful to my doctors and nurses and all other medical personnel who took excellent care of me and were so incredibly dedicated. I'm thankful to my DCM family who's always given me kind words of encouragement and support. And last, but not least, I'm thankful to my friends for putting up with me and being by my side no matter how many miles separate us. Thank you to all of you. I love you all. ♥
Most people only have one birthday, but I've been blessed enough to have two. ♥
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"Another fall day. An infinite blue sky to look up at, a thousand
beautiful trees to enjoy, a hundred blows of the wind to refresh, a
second chance and one lovely heart to love it all" - Shradha
"It is infinitely better to transplant a heart than to bury it to be devoured by worms."
- Christiaan Barnard
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