My Heart Transplant

I've blogged about this several times already, but as it is that time of the year again, I feel compelled to continue my tradition of blogging about one of the most pivotal moments in my life: my heart transplant. Because I've blogged about this so many times, I'm always unsure of what more I can say or add to the past memories I've shared about it. I don't talk about it often enough in person. And maybe, it's time to change that.

So for everyone who's joining me for the first time for this heartiversary post, I'll share a very brief overview. When I was 15, I was diagnosed with dilated cardiomyopathy, essentially a condition in which the heart is inefficient at pumping blood. And, well, it's kind of important for the heart to do its job properly or else bad things happen. Treatment didn't work for me and I got progressively worse, eventually making it on the transplant list at status 1A. It's a little strange though because I knew when I was diagnosed earlier in 2011 with dilated cardiomyopathy that I would need a transplant. I don't know how I knew, but I knew. And I struggled with the implications of what that would mean. Could I live knowing that my heart wasn't mine? And then it happened. On October 20th, 2011, at the age of 16, I was given the gift of life: a new heart. And I lived, but it took me time to emotionally accept this heart that beats inside of my chest as my own. This blog post is to commemorate and celebrate my sixth heartiversary.

Was it painful? Yes. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. It's the most physical pain I've ever experienced in my life and one of the most emotionally exhaustive events in my life. With every year that passes, I remember less and less of what happened. And honestly, I'm not sure that my memories are true anymore. Trauma is something strange because your brain blocks out a lot of it, but it doesn't block out everything. My experience was traumatic and it took someone else telling me that for me to realize it. It's a different kind of trauma, but still trauma. I suppose that's why I don't remember how it felt anymore. I remember a few big moments, like when I was told that they had found a heart. I remember some of the smaller ones too, but only vaguely, like watching the Game Show Network (GSN) all day.

My past posts about my transplant have not always been positively framed and that's because I want people to understand and know the truth. I've been incredibly fortunate to have received a transplant, but it's not a cure by any means. I'm incredibly grateful because I have a much better quality of life now. At the same time though, I'm supposed to be more cautious, especially since I have a suppressed immune system to stave off rejection of my heart. This is why I often say that I can't afford to be sick.

Transplant is still a really emotional topic for me and I think it always will be. Sometimes, I have a hard time believing that I'm still here. Some days are so wonderful that it feels like I'm dreaming. I was 16 when I received my transplant and I'm 22 now. Despite all of the time that has passed, I'm not sure I did fully come to terms with my transplant. It might also just be me overthinking things and making mountains out of ant hills. Who can say for sure? Lately I've been wondering if I deserved my transplant. It's a terrible thing to wonder, but I think I only wonder that because I'm letting life influence me in not so great ways. Someone thought I deserved a second chance at life, maybe it's time for me to see it their way. I don't want anyone to think that I'm not grateful. When I feel really down, I sometimes think of her and I cry and then I move on. I've been through too much to give up on myself.

Let me not leave this post without some positivity. I've done a lot of things over the past 6 years because of my transplant. I graduated high school and college. I'm in pharmacy school with some of the most wonderful and lovely people this world has seen. I got my driver's license at 21. I got my first real job in community pharmacy and have been employed there for a little over 2 years now. I live away from home in a city. And I'm cautiously happy these days.

Not many people ask me about my transplant, but I don't mind if they do. In fact, I wish people did ask me questions. But that is mostly on me. While my transplant is not a secret by any means, I'm not to the point where I use it as a conversation starter. Perhaps it should be a conversation starter. I have often thought about using it to open conversation, but I also don't want to make people feel uncomfortable or feel like they need to pity me. I don't need nor want pity, just love and acceptance like everyone else. When I was younger, I always wanted people to have a surprised reaction when I told them about my transplant, but the truth is that a lot of people don't have that reaction or at least they don't express it if they do. I think I used to want a surprised reaction because it would usually mean that people would ask questions and take an interest in me. I guess you could say that I appreciated the attention and always sort of have. But I have also always been the type of person that needs extra love and care for whatever reason. My transplant is one of the few things that I will always share freely about myself. I welcome curiosity and questions. And as I move forward in life, I'm realizing that my education has the potential to put me into an incredible position of advocacy and maybe even an opportunity to help others like myself. And I want to be here long enough to be able to achieve that dream. So the goal is to be the longest living heart transplant recipient obviously.

Please consider becoming an organ donor at donatelife.net if you are not already one. It is one of the most selfless acts of love you can perform. Someone else's selfless act of love saved my life. Your selfless act of love could save someone too.

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Note: The title of this blog post is modeled after the episode titles of the medical TV show, Scrubs.