My name is Melissa and at age 14 I was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy, a disease of the heart that causes it to deteriorate and function poorly. My illness struck suddenly. One day I was riding my bike and the next I was hospitalized, hooked up to machines, in and out of procedures, and ultimately bed ridden for six months. Today, six months doesn't seem like a long time, considering the journey I've taken. However, at the young age of 14, six months was like an eternity. I was fortunate enough to have my family by my side to entertain me but most of all to tell me that everything was going to be okay. It just takes time, they'd say. And they were right.
Within one year of my diagnosis, I was back to myself - or my "new" self with heart disease. I began dancing ballet again, took up water skiing, attended high school sporting events and in no time at all, it was as if nothing had ever happened. I made it to every milestone that I thought I'd miss, including taking driving lessons, going to my senior prom, graduating from high school and attending the college of my choice. The years went by and we'd celebrate each "heart" anniversary with pride. After all, I was a survivor.
Soon after college I got my first job and fell for the love of my life who makes every day worth it. We filled up the cup of our life together with friends, making memories every day and enjoying the precious years as newlywed doing things like buying our first home and getting a puppy. My health was stable, my doctors amazed at how much I did with such a weak heart, encouraged that I could go on with my heart, forever.
The story of my life and health took an unexpected turn in March of 2007 when I learned that after 13 years with heart disease, it was getting worse. A valve in my heart was leaking and needed to be surgically repaired. This was done with the hope that once the valve was fixed, my hearts function would improve and go back to where it had been for so many years. Instead, my heart continued to weaken, taking my spirit and dreams for a future with it. My husband, family and friends endured the most difficult thing in life, watching the Melissa they once knew, sink deeper and deeper into a bottomless well of dark water. Once I was listed for transplantation, we came up for a breath of air but knew we had to tread water and make it to the surgery, healthy enough to receive the gift if we "got the call."
The day of my new life began at 5:30 am when my nurses said "Melissa, you are going to the Operating Room. They have a heart for you." I felt many things, joy for this gift, fear for the surgery, freedom from illness but mainly I felt for my donor's family. Their gift was a life ring, pulling me to shore. My hope is that they will never forget what a wonderful thing they have done for me. I received a letter from them almost one year after my transplant and learned that my donor was 14 at the time of her passing. No wonder she was a perfect mach for me, giving me back all of those years that I lost since my diagnosis.
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