"Don't take your organs to heaven with you. Heaven knows we need them here."

Happy three year heartiversary to me. Three years ago today, someone saved my life. Of all of the gifts I'll ever receive in my life, none will ever surpass this one. There is no better gift than life itself.

Three years ago, there was a lot going on. I spent a considerable amount of time having to go to the hospital, taking numerous medications, and feeling in pain. I do still remember things that happened back then, but everything feels like such a blur, almost like a dream. (I blogged about those things in last year's reflection, I think.) I'm sure I would think of it all as a dream if I didn't have the scars to prove it. There's a lot that I miss from three years ago, most of which include some special people, particularly the nurses who cared for me. At the same time, there's a lot that I don't miss, there's a lot that I never want to have to go through ever again.

I've had a rough past couple of months and I'm still kind of in limbo with my emotional stability, but overall still thankful to be here. I don't wake up every morning feeling happy or thankful, and I wonder if that's a bad thing. It's probably not such a great way to be, all things considered. But I'm still human too so I hope that it's okay. Right now, I am happy and that's all that matters. 

I've become a lot more open with being a transplant recipient. It's a part of who I am so I make no efforts anymore to hide it away or be secretive about it. I think I used to believe that it was only something I should tell people that I'm close to, but that's a little silly. Of course, I don't run around shouting it at the top of my lungs, but it has come up. It's actually come up twice this semester already, once (okay, more like a couple of times) in public speaking and once in microbiology lab. Most people don't know this about me, but I like when my transplant comes up in conversation...or rather, when it can be introduced into conversation. (I think my favorite conversation about my transplant is probably when it was revealed to Dr. Gallagher in microbiology lab. I remember saying that my heart is not my own, that it was someone else's. Dr. Gallagher thought I was referring to being in love and joked about that. I got him pretty good by saying that my heart was literally not my own with a straight face. He got it after that and asked me about it.) I like being asked about my transplant, because it puts everything back into perspective for me. It helps me see where I was and where I am now. I'd like to believe that when people hear that I'm a transplant recipient that it gives them some kind of hope and will to live freely and love strongly.

This is the part where I say thank you. Without a doubt, I'm thankful to and for my donor and her family. I'm especially thankful to my wonderful transplant team and to all of the nurses who took care of me. Of course, I'm incredibly thankful for my family and my friends for their love. (Shout out to two of my friends who will always have a place in my heart, Tomy and Casey.) Even though I haven't been in touch for a long while, I still remember my DCM family and am grateful to them for their kind words and encouragement. And last, but not least, much love and thanks to my Dragonfly family for always caring. I love you all. 

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It is infinitely better to transplant a heart than to bury it to be devoured by worms.

-Christiaan Barnard 

Reflecting on Two Years

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

A Pure and Honest Reflection of the Past Year

It's finally the day I've been waiting for...my first heartiversary. A year ago from today, I underwent heart transplantation, which resulted in my second chance to live and love the life I lead. It hasn't been an easy year for me. I still haven't gotten closure, but I'm working towards it as the days continue to pass. 

Since I've decided to be honest, I'm not going to hide the way I've felt. I'm not about to sugarcoat anything, not today. 

I'm in a calm, peaceful mood right now. As I type, I'm thinking about everything that I can possibly remember from the past year. Positive, cheerful me has a lot to say, but so does negative me. 

Let me start with what my positive self has to say. Before transplantation, I was still able to smile and laugh despite my situation. It helps to have such a loving family and wonderful people taking care of you. After transplantation, I was in pain, but it's what I guess you could call happy pain, because I made it. I had a whole cocktail of medications to take following transplantation and that was difficult to deal with. I've tried to look at it with optimistic eyes. I'm especially happy now because I don't take as many as I used to and the number of medications still hasn't reached its absolute minimum of three yet; I'm still lingering around at five. 

I have a lot to smile about. I have a lot to laugh about. But most importantly, I have a lot to be thankful for. Because of transplantation, because of this second chance, I was able to finish my junior year and continue on into my senior year. Over that time period, I've met some really amazing people and strengthened my relationships with my friends. I've had a good amount of firsts, such as going to Roma's, playing Just Dance, getting my first pair of Levi's, riding the metro, and going to the Cheesecake Factory. Guaranteed that these firsts might not seem that exciting to the average person, but they're special to me.

Sometimes, I can't believe that what I've gone through was real...but then I see the scars and am reminded that it really happened. The scars, the ICD device (which I actually got to keep!), the medications, the pictures, the memories. They remind me. When I was in the hospital, I remember telling one of my nurses something like "you never know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have left." (I, of course, am not that creative. I saw a quote like that a long time ago somewhere on the Interwebs.) In spite of the complaints I've made, at times I feel like I can rightfully say that for all I have been through, I have been strong.

Now for a darker, more depressing take on the past year along with lots of complaining. I'd advise you to skip over this if you don't want to be saddened or annoyed. It sucked. It honestly really sucked. It wasn't fair at all that I had to go through what I went through. Those few months before and after transplantation contained the worst pain I've ever felt in my entire life. I felt dead, like I really was going to die. I'm thankful that I didn't, but I'm still only human. I have days where I feel like the successful attempt to save my life wasn't worth it. I know it might be wrong of me to admit and say that, but I am human. I didn't go through this past year with a smile plastered on my face the entire time. Every once in a long while, I have moments when I think of how ungrateful I am and how my donor should be the one living instead. Those are not good moments for me; this is why I feel weak. I usually just cry and don't talk to anyone about it. That's the other thing. 

I don't talk to many people about transplantation, because a lot of the time, I feel like no one cares. Even when I do talk about it to my select few (excluding my family, of course), I feel like they don't even care. I understand that people have their own hardships to face and it's selfish of me to ask them to comfort me when they're struggling too. I wish people had asked about it when I returned to school, but almost no one did. That made me feel like no one cared at all. I've been told that people don't ask because they don't know how to or because they don't want to make me feel uncomfortable. Maybe that's what it is, but I have nothing to hide. I'm willing to share my story, the good and the bad parts of it. 

Going back to a more positive view now, I've been called an inspiration. I often feel undeserving of such an honor because I am such a complainer. I guess I can understand why people think of me as such, but I don't feel deserving of it. Still, I do appreciate being called an inspiration. It's nice to know that my experience inspired someone else. I've always wanted to be an inspiration to someone and now I am, even to people I don't know. 

One of my friends made me understand that I can't let this experience become me and dictate my life. And for him, but mostly myself, I promise that I won't let it. I promise I'll move on and accept everything that's happened. I'll use this experience to help others and myself.

I'm happy to be alive. Even though I have moments of depression and negativity, I'm happy overall. I'm still here. And because I'm still here, I intend to make a difference. I don't know how long I'm going to live for, but I know that I want to spend the rest of my life working towards being happy and helping others. I think I owe that much to my donor, my donor's family, the medical personnel who took/take care of me, my family, and my friends. It's a work in progress. 

 And here is where I say thank you. Thank you to my ever-loving family for loving and supporting me through everything. Thank you to my donor family for making the decision that they did. Thank you to my cardiology team (Dr. Scheel, Peggy, Dawn, Dr. Coulson, and everyone else) for working so hard. Thank you to my nurses for making me smile and laugh, instilling hope, and sticking me with needles. Thank you to my DCM family for supporting me and believing in me. Thank you to my lovely Casey Harvey for all of your caring, racism, and overly dramatic lame humor. Thank you to Deepak for being a voice of reason, understanding, and kindness when it was needed. Thank you to all of my friends for making me smile, laugh and cry. I love you all. ♥

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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 ♥ Happy Heartiversary ♥ - Shradha 

"Happy Hearth Day" - Casey 

"It's my heartiversary ♥" - Me
"We know" - Deepak

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step." 

"It is infinitely better to transplant a heart than to bury it to be devoured by worms." - Christiaan Barnard