My Story

Today I was writing this short recap of my journey with heart failure, and I thought you might like to read it to remember how great is the love that God has for us.

My name is Melissa. In March 2009 my husband and I went on a cruise to celebrate a huge promotion I had just been given. Little did we know that less than three weeks later, I would not be able to walk the six blocks from my office building to the parking lot without gasping for air and clutching my chest. At 31 years old, I was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy - Congestive Heart Failure. Within two months, it progressed to end-stage. June brought us the news that the only chance at surviving was to get a heart transplant; however, I was too sick for the transplant (the pressures in my heart and lungs were too high). So, in August 2009 I had a Left Ventricular Assist Device (LVAD) implanted through open-heart surgery to help my heart pump blood.

Imagine the feeling of being 31, wanting nothing more than to become a mother, and undergoing your first surgery - open heart. It was scary. It was painful. But there was a peace in knowing that God works all things together for good in some way... even if that meant my death. I was surprised at how much strength came daily from my husband, family, friends, and prayers. We learned to live one day at a time and not to worry about the next day.

In December I was finally well enough to be placed on the heart transplant list. On January 11, 2010 a heart became available for me and I was taken to the operating room. While on the table, the surgeons did one last scan of my heart and found that my own heart had begun to heal.

When I woke up after the surgery, I heard the nurse say, "It's a miracle!" And I thought to myself, "I do feel better than I thought I'd feel having my heart cut out and another one sewn in." And then entered my husband, who was always by my side. He told me the news. I didn't get that transplant because my own heart had started healing. Wow!! Next, I made him tell me again, I made my mom tell me, I made my sister tell me, I just wanted to hear it over and over again.

A few months later in September 2010, I became the first person at my hospital to ever have their LVAD removed. That was over a year and a half ago. Every day I wake up with a new appreciation for life and am learning to take each day one step at a time. I have learned an incredible lesson first-hand: MIRACLES DO HAPPEN. If only we could remember that in the most bleak of situations. Dawn always comes after the night. Beauty can be brought from ashes.