Today is THE day.

So Sept 23rd, I was not only placed on the transplant list, but a new heart was found for me. They still needed go inspect the donor heart, to make sure it was good. Still, the feelings of these moments were overwhelming. Yes, I was happy, yet it many ways it wasn't real. None of what was happening to me was real. I'd talked about my nightmares, and somehow this was just as real. I was also afraid. Afraid of the surgery - you have to understand, while I'd already had 3 open-heart surgeries, this was the first that I was actually aware was going to happen. I was afraid of being put under anesthesia again, I was scared it was going to be like when I was in the coma - a never ending nightmare. Yet somehow I wasn't scared. I wasn't scared something would happen during the surgery or was I. Honestly, the shock of having found a heart so quickly was masking everything. My memory of this time is very poor. I remember getting the news from Felicia, I remember Reggie, my ICU nurse for the night telling that 1) my chest needed to shaved, again, 2) he would be the one to take care of me when I got out of surgery. I remember being told that there was actually a transplant that was going to happen before mine and that my surgery was being pushed back a bit. I remember waking up on the 24th, unshaven, and with very little sleep. James came to my room early because he'd promised to have breakfast with me. Of course, because of the surgery, I was NPO, and wouldn't be eating anything. What don't remember at all, is what time I went into surgery, at all. I do however, remember saying goodbye to Wendy as I was taken to surgery prep. I remember being cold in the OR and meeting the OR nurse, and the Anesthesiologist once in the OR (I'd met with prior as well), and I remember them putting me under. I remember Dr. Cunningham, who performed the transplant, coming into the OR, just before I went under.

You know what else I remember - I remember not being able to tell the difference between reality and dream. For the first part I was under, I was still aware of the ER, but it a a dream-like sense, I realize that it was a dream. I remember thinking, I just want to fall asleep and wake up and have it all be over. Unfortunately that didn't really happen. See I sort of remember bit and pieces and "feelings" of my dreams while I was under. I do remember, about halfway through, realizing that I was still under and thinking "I am sedated, they are operating on me right now" and then going about in my dream and talking to people. I thought "Dammit, why can't think just be over and can I PLEASE wake up". But it went on, and after the surgery, reality crept into my dreams. I remember seeing Wendy and Dr. Cunningham before I was technically awake. He asked me "How do you like your new heart?". I also remember being extabated but then going back to sleep and still being convinced that I was still sedated. When the ICU finally forced me awake. I was so convinced that I was still sedated that even told the nurse "No, I'm still sedated". It took me 5-10 minutes to be convinced that I wasn't still sedated.

Damn that was fast

So I'm awake and alert, in the hospital. Wendy is slowly updating me on the goings on in the world, but its all bad news and I couldn't handle it - I had enough bad news of my own. As I said, I was psychotic, though not in violent way, more in an I can't control my emotions way. I had, however, resigned myself to the fact that I was going to have a transplant. So I put what little energy I had to getting myself strong enough to be put on the transplant list. This meant getting my feeding tube removed, improving my lung function, getting rid of ANY traces of infection, and being able to eat enough to stem the dramatic weight was ongoing. The feeding tube was easy, one night, while sleeping, I accidentally pulled the tube out - it was the third time, and I was on the verge of being allowed to eat anyway, so they gave up on putting it back in. So they had me eating, on what was called, a mechanical diet, which meant everything was put in a blender before it was served to. Nothing like blended pasta (or stir-fry) for that matter. I started, of course, with Jello, and apple sauce, which at that point tasted like ambrosia. James, had also cleared me to drink pretty much whatever I wanted, which was mostly lemonade. My taste buds were screwed beyond recognition, and about the only thing I could taste and enjoy was tart things. The breathing part was tougher. They had me on respiratory treatment. Which meant a respiratory technician would come to my room, multiple times a day to work out my lungs, which suuuuuucked. My lungs were in some pretty bad shape, filled with "junk" as multiple doctors called it, and partially collapsed. I endured two different types. One involved me, breathing this noxious gas that would make me nauseous. The other, involved me inhaling and exhaling, through device that would force air into my lungs (to help inflate the collapsed parts). Both made me nauseous and the later, would make me throw up if I had to do it near meal time. To get rid of infection I was on several antibiotics, which was complicated by the fact that I'm very allergic to Penicillin. Additionally, in the course of getting rid of this infection I developed an allergy to one of the antibiotics they had been using - Vancomycin. this was sort of scary, since the Vanco was administered intravenously, which caused me to break out in hives spontaneously. Everyday, communicable disease doctors would come and analyze my lab results, tracking my battle against infection, letting me know my white blood count (as it went down, thankfully). Each day it went down I felt like I was getting closer to getting listed. Finally, in an effort to combat my psychosis, the ICU decided to try and move me to a better room. One with more window, more light. By this time, I was walking, with much difficulty. The day they finally secured me a room, my friends Nick and Nora were visiting, and got accompany me me as I walked down the hall to my new room. I promptly sat in a chair, stayed for a couple hours. You must understand, at this point, just sitting in a chair, let alone walking was exhausting for me.

These improvements went on. I walked more everyday. Tried to eat more. They had me drinking these high calorie shakes, called Scandy shakes. It was horrible. They were so desperate to get calories into me, that they tried to for 3 of these 600 calorie shakes down my throat each day. After a couple days, it was all I could do to choke them down. It wasn't that they tasted THAT bad, but they were thick and heavy and I could never come even close to finishing them before they were warm, even though the ICU nurse tried to keep them cool, by plopping them in bucket of ice while they watched me stare at them (and not drink them). I wasn't being difficult, I just had no appetite. Still, the ICU nurses and the transplant, coordinator, Felicia, were working hard to move me to the medical floor, which was more like a typical hospital room, versus the ICU fishbowl. I was visited by medical floor nurses, because they had to learn how to deal with the VADS machine. I was scheduled to be moved on Sept 23rd.

Sept. 23rd, the transplant coordinator, who was always the bearer of good news, popped her head into my room and proclaimed - "You're on the list". This made me, my mother, and Wendy, very very happy. And started to dig ourselves in for a long wait. Because I was on the VADS machine, I wouldn't be able to leave the hospital . Thankfully, I was getting ready to be moved which I new would help the wait. Later that day Wendy showed up from work, as she did everyday, to spend evening with me. Around 5pm my room phone rang. My phone rarely rang because most people didn't know which room I was in or that they could call. Usually when it rang, it was the dietary coordinator taking my order for what I wasn't gonna eat for dinner. Wendy answered, and this time, it was Felicia. Even though, there was incredulity in Wendy's voice, a happy look, I had know idea who she was talking to. Wendy handed it me, again it was Felicia, and all she said was -

"We found you a heart"

7 hours. They me a heart in 7 hours. People wait months, sometimes years for their organ transplants. They found a heart for me in 7 hours. Damn, that was fast.