Today is my 10th heart transplant anniversary. I wanted to make grand plans for myself this year considering it's a big milestone, but it turns out that big plans aren't really my thing. Too much effort and energy is required and I am incredibly lazy.
Ten years ago, when I was sixteen, I was successfully transplanted with a healthy donor heart at Johns Hopkins. Truthfully, I never envisioned my life turning out the way it has. Honestly, I didn't even know if I was going to make it to another year because of what happened last year in December. That's the thing about being a transplant recipient, there is a lot of uncertainty and sometimes really harsh reminders of your own mortality. Last I knew, things had improved since then, but it's been several months since I've been seen and I've had a rather stressful past several months where I've not taken great care of myself. I can only hope that I haven't done too much damage. I'm terrible at establishing a routine for myself, but it's something that I need to do yet again and try my best to maintain.
Oddly enough, for such a big transplant milestone, I don't have much to say. I wonder if I've said it all already in years past and that's why I can't quite find any words to express myself today. Today is special and should feel special, but somehow I'm not sure that it is. Apparently, this is the first time that my transplant anniversary has fallen on a Wednesday. That's got to count for something, right?
I think I'm just going to ramble and see where it goes.
It's an understatement to say that life after a transplant is challenging. For me, so much of the challenge is in knowing how much of a cost burden there is on my family (and to a lesser degree of guilt, on the healthcare system). Medication is not cheap. Procedures are not cheap. Healthcare often feels like a luxury and not a basic need based on just how heavy the expense can be and truly is. The other thing I still struggle with is reconciling my mental health with transplant. Transplant is a gift, not a cure. The typical response to receiving a gift is gratitude. And I am grateful, but I don't always exist in a place where I express that gratitude. But I always acknowledge in my darkest days, when I am not okay at all, that my anchor to this world is my donor's gift (and her family's decision). If nothing else, I am grounded by survivor's guilt.
Right now, I'm in a state of transition in life. Just beginning to get my bearings, which is a painful and awkward experience to go through. I have wanted so badly to give up many days, but I know that I need to give myself time. With time comes experience and hopefully a sort of firmness and air of confidence in the decisions that I will make. But for right now, I have to remind myself that I am not alone and that it's okay to ask for help when I am unsure.
I used to always believe that I hadn't grown as a person and I still hold that belief, especially when it comes to "doing adult things" like having a 401k, a significant other, buying/owning a house, etc. I've always felt behind in life compared to my peers, like somehow I missed the boat to success or happiness. Although my peers and I are at entirely different points in our lives, in recent weeks and months, I've realized that I'm not the only one hurting. I'm not the only one going through change that feels painful and awkward. I'm not the only one doubting myself. But I might be the only one not cheering for me. Someday, I'm going to cheer for me like others do and really mean it.
Most of that isn't coherent and doesn't have much to do with transplant, but happy 10 years to me nonetheless. Eternally thankful to my donor and her family, my family, my friends that I've made along the way, and God.
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Today is a good day to live.
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"Don't take your organs with you to heaven, heaven knows we need them here." Visit donatelife.net to register to be an organ, eye, and tissue donor.
