Recap of Non-Transplant Day

It has occurred to me through several of your questions, that we never took the time to write about January 11, my non-transplant miracle day. Let me share with you some of the miracles and thoughts from that day (sorry it is a bit long, but it's a good story).

While I am in the hospital, my family never leaves me alone. However, some times in the mornings after Ray leaves for work and before Dad arrives, I have a few minutes to myself. It was in that time that the transplant team came to my room and delivered the precious news that a donor heart would be ready for me by evening. I was immediately shocked and terrified and relieved. They did tell me the donor was 29 and local and that it was a good heart. I immediately began praying... trying to calm the emotions that were welling inside.

It truly didn't matter that I was alone, because I think every nurse, PCA, doctor, staff, etc. from the hospital came to celebrate with me. And I mean celebrate. The OSU staff know that a new heart saves lives, and they know that without one, their patients pass on. They have such difficult jobs, and they have learned how to take excellent care of their patients, including the ones that just found out they are going to have their chest cut open, their bones sawed in half, their heart pulled out, and a new one put in place. They kept coming in and crying, yelling, encouraging, and celebrating with me. And to top it off, the nurse I had that day was the nurse who had originally admitted me to OSU, whom I have developed a wonderful friendship.

The family began arriving, each one with different feelings and emotions. Everyone had a mixture of concern and excitement on their faces. And I felt everyone watching me all day to see how I was reacting (did I mention that we found out about the heart at 9 in the morning but didn't go for surgery until 8:30 that night). I cannot tell you how much it meant to me to have everyone there. We filled my room and the waiting room with family and friends, and I can't think of a better way to spend my last day before the transplant.

In my mind, I was talking with God all day. In an earlier post, I had told you that I felt God had told me that if the transplant was His will, He would make everything "perfect." Well, the heart they had for me was 29 years old and had no heart or drug problems. It seemed like a "perfect" heart to me. So I was telling God that if this was His will, I would try not to be afraid and to trust Him. I was also asking Him that if His will was for me to not get up from the table, that He would take care of Ray and my family and friends and let them remember me before I got sick. My day seemed to start in fear and panic, but by the time I had spent the day in conversation with the Lord, I was at peace for my surgery. A peace that it is so difficult to explain, except to say that it is a knowing in my heart that no matter what happens, God is in control and that made it okay.

We have a dear Christian friend who is an anesthesiologist at OSU. He happened (I believe at God's will) to be on duty that night. When I spoke with him, he seemed a little wary to do the surgery since we had developed a friendship; however, I assured him that having him there with me in the operating room would be very comforting for me. He was the one that came to take me to surgery.

Throughout the day I had received all the transplant medications. They burned going in and made me queasy (not to mention I couldn't eat all day). They also put in an arterial line to monitor my blood pressure more closely. When they wheeled me to surgery, I will never forget the peace I had in knowing that I had no control and that God was guiding my future. That is a place we all should live in every day because then we could quit messing up our lives and be able to let Him guide us; however, for me, it took a transplant to teach me to completely rest in His will. I will never forget the faces of my loved ones when they wheeled me out of the room for surgery (by the way, my dear nurse Maghee actually stayed way past the end of her shift to see me to surgery... she is so sweet).

The operating table is always the most scary for me. The room is cold and extremely bright with tons of equipment and people bustling about and no one really talking to me. This time was a little different because my friend was there. He kept telling me exactly what they were doing. It really made it easy for me to continue in God's peace. Before they actually began to give me drugs, I asked him to say a blessing over me (twice) and began praying.

When I woke up, I had the breathing tube in and felt pretty groggy (those drugs do crazy things to you). I heard the nurse say, "It's a miracle!" I thought, "The surgery must've gone extremely well because I don't feel nearly as bad as I thought I would." Then I opened my eyes enough to see the nurse and knew I was on the wrong floor. Ray was immediately there to tell me what had happened. I made him tell me twice, made my Mom tell me, then made my little sister tell me. God is so great!

It was hard to rejoice at first because the effects of the drugs had worn off and I still had the breathing tube in, which is the toughest part of recovery from surgery for me. Ray told me that the doctors had come out after I had only been in surgery for a few hours and huddled the immediate family into a little room. I couldn't imagine the fear they must've felt. Then they delivered the amazing news... My heart was functioning at 40-50%! There was a lot of shock and unbelief, but from the believers, there was a lot of rejoicing. God answers prayers.

The next morning when I got the breathing tube out and was feeling better, the anesthesiologist called me. He told me that when he was performing all the pre-transplant procedures, he had a little time and decided to do a trans-esophageal echo cardiogram (TEE) to take a look at my heart. (This was not a normal procedure for transplant patients because they are just going to cut out the heart and throw it away.) But since he had a little time, he did the procedure and found my ejection fraction to be around 40-50%. He called in a colleague, who told him not to say anything to the surgeon because I had just had an echo the week before that showed my EF to be 20% and they had turned down my pump and I had had heart failure symptoms. Plus, it was an amazing heart I was going to receive. (And hearts just don't humanly heal themselves, let alone in a week.) But our friend informed the surgeon anyway, who quickly retorted that my EF was only so high because of my pump. He then turned down my heart pump and for 20 minutes they watched my heart beat strong. These were two doctors who had put my heart pump in five months before and said that they had to strain to even see my heart beating at all. Now they were standing in the same operating room, watching it beat strong on the monitor.

My friend was rejoicing with me on the phone. He told me that he was so humbled to be a part of such a big event, God's miracle. I told him, so was I! I have no idea why God chose to heal me that day, but I am certain that it in part was due to the countless number of people and churches who were praying for God's healing.

The surgeon came to see us the next day. It was so sweet... while he was talking, more and more of the OSU staff kept cramming into the room to listen. This was the first time they had ever had a patient's heart heal. The surgeon told me that he had no idea what made my heart sick, and he had no idea what made it better. I told him I did, PRAYER. He just kept right on talking. He said that over the next few months they would start me on heart medications because they hadn't thought there was any need the last several months because they were certain my heart wouldn't heal. But now that it had healed, they wanted to start the medications, perform several tests, and then take out the pump. It will be the first time at OSU that a heart pump is removed to recovery.

Every day I am reminded of God's saving grace. Not just spiritually, but now physically as well. I think some times we don't pray with enough faith. Or we think our problems are too small. Or we wonder why we should pray since healing may not be God's plan. If I could just encourage you that the Bible says if you have an illness to have the elders of the church pray over you. It also says to cast all our burdens on Him because He cares for us. It also constantly talks about Jesus healing the sick according to their faith. I have been wondering lately how we could change the world if we would just starting praying with the kind of faith that has complete confidence in the miracles that Our God can do...

Perhaps my family and friends have more they would like to add to the story or to share their thoughts on the day? If so, please post a comment, for I am sure we would all like to celebrate together.