April 27, 2018

Today at 3 AM my parents woke me up and unplugged the feeding tube from my G-Tube. I thought “Oh God. Another surgery? I’ll go back to sleep for a few more minutes.” I could hear my dad saying “Yes, yes, thank you. Where do we go? Okay.” My Mom then shook me again. She said “Justin, they have a heart ready for you.” At that moment I jumped out of bed. My heart was here? After 2 weeks? Not 6 years? It was unbelievable!

My Mom didn’t pack much stuff. Inside her bag was her clothes, a phone charger, and Kardia. All I packed was my stuffed teddy bear, Beary. When I got inside my mom’s car, I felt something amazing. Similar to the feeling a mom has before giving birth, I knew that after today my life is going to change. Forever.

My dad followed in his car behind my mom’s car. Lights blurred as they merged on the highway’s scenery. There weren’t many cars on the highway, but I tried to guess the ones that were there why they were driving at 3 AM. The ride was silent since my Mom didn’t say anything. I asked her, “Are you nervous?” She replied, “Yes. Are you?” I said, “Yeah, but mostly excited.” At this point I texted my friends. There were only 3 friends I trusted with my health condition. All of them helped me with my homework when I was gone, listened to me rant about my declining heart disease, and overall pretty good people to hang out with. Each one I texted 2-3 sentences about my transplant and how much I appreciated them.

The hospital seemed majestic that night. When we arrived, the sign that said Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital seemed to glimmer under the moon. I made sure to enjoy the air outside because I knew that I couldn’t breathe it for a while. Inside the garage, I suddenly realized that I should take pictures, so I took pictures of the garage. After meeting up with my Dad, we took the elevator upstairs.

On the ground floor, the receptionist told us that we needed to go to the Treatment Center where most surgeries were performed. However, the Treatment Center was closed. While my Dad tried to call the number that contacted us at 3 AM, I decided to look at the miniature statues of rabbits and turtles on the floor. In my mind, I was thinking, “Is this really happening? What’s going to happen afterwards?” I never thought, “Will I survive?” I knew I was going to survive. I never had any doubt.

We decided to go directly to the PCU (Patient Care Unit). The nurse at the front immediately asked “Are you Justin Wang?” After confirming it was me, she had me take a shower. She explained it was because I wouldn’t be showering for a long time after the surgery. The shower was warm, not too hot or cold. I immediately put on my gown and my dad took a picture of my with a thumbs up. For me, the hardest part of that day was when the nurse put the IV in me. That’s it.

An hour later, they transferred me to the surgery center. At the surgery center was a list of patients and their surgery. There on the top of the list was me: JUSTIN WANG – HEART TRANSPLANT. I was proud of myself, I was going to do something amazing.

At 6 AM came the anesthesiologists. They told me the one IV I had in me was enough. Once I was unconscious they would place multiple IVs and tubes inside of me. They also told me the doctor was preparing for the surgery. I remembered from my transplant education that “the hardest part of the operation is not replacing the heart, but cutting the individual veins.” 7AM was my scheduled surgery time.

Around the same time my sister called me. She was crying because she was so happy for me. I know that since I was in the hospital, my heart failure has impacted her life in a negative way. Even through this she was a good sister, and I really appreciate that.

My friend, Ray, also called me at the same time. He said “I’m so happy for you man. I totally want to visit you after you’re done.” When I heard him say that, I was overjoyed. Ray has been a big supporter in my life. Although he was busy being a genius, he always made time for me and my health. We were in two classes together, both volunteered together, and even spent a weekend in a tiny hotel room in Santa Clara together.

Around 7:30 they told me it was time. They injected some “happy juice” through my IV, and I instantly started laughing. I always liked the “happy juice” because it made me feel happy. I said goodbye to my mom and dad, and they in turn kissed my cheek.

The last thing I thought about was my mom. She’s my biggest supporter in life. She’s my caretaker, best friend, and supporter. Compared to other moms, she’s supermom. When I suggested online school for the next school year, she showed me 3 pamphlets for online school the next day, When I said I didn’t want to go to school, she whipped out her phone and dialed the school’s office. When I was in the hospital, she never left me and always held my hand.

My Mom is probably the biggest sufferer from my medical condition. When I was in the hospital for my first open heart surgery, her dad also died. While my grandfather was being lowered into the ground, I was under the knife. My Mom is so glad that I got a heart transplant. Ever since I was on the list, she started taking anxiety pills.

The operating room doors were the white swinging doors at any standard hospital. When they wheeled me inside the operating room, I remember there being a bright light. The bright light is the end of my memory.

April 28, 2018

Shoot me. Please.

Everything is painful. What is this in my neck, an IV? That’s painful. What is this in my hand? It’s popping out of the skin like a bulge. I… what??? Actual STAPLES inside me. I use staples to turn in my homework, not seal up a big HOLE.

I feel like I’m going to die. My heart is thudding so loud it might pop out of my chest. What is this? I can’t hear anything because my heart is pounding so loud.

Why are there tubes inside of me? There’s actually tubes inside my chest. They’re sucking excess blood from inside my chest.

I’m so uncomfortable. I’m sweating all over. Why am I so hot? I can’t move and change a position since I’m so sore, which I don’t understand? Before I went into the surgery I could at least sit up.

There’s so much plastic inside me: the chest tubes, IVs, and monitors. There’s also a lot of stuff connected to me to. There’s also bruises on my hands and arms. There’s also a big pole with tons of machines onto it. I guess that’s where all the medications are.

They want to remove my breathing tube. Did I not mention there’s a tube inside my throat? Yeah there’s a tube inside my throat. They want to remove my breathing tube while I’m conscious. And they did. They just yanked it out like tug a rope. At least I can eat and drink now.

There’s also a catheter in my urethra. So… yeah.

I’m heavily drugged, so at least I’m happy about that. I mean they’re giving me pain medication which is great (even though I still feel awful).

Was transplant right for me? Was this a mistake?

I’m so stressed. Nothing prepared me for this.

May 1, 2018

I pooped today. Which is great! I also sat in my room’s chair.

I’m not allowed to shower, so my hygiene isn’t that great. The nurse washed my hair with dry shampoo and water. Then the nurse wiped me down with sanitary wipes.

My chest tubes were removed today. The nurses first removed the tape, which they said was “the most annoying part since there’s a lot of them.” Removing the tape doesn’t hurt, but it does create anticipation. After the tape was removed, they yanked the tubes out. It shouldn’t be done slowly, because that creates way more pain.

They covered the holes with some gauze pads and tape.

May 4, 2018

I have so much pain. The doctors lied to me. They said that I would have tons of energy after transplant. That’s a lie. I feel horrible. There’s pain everyday. There’s pain always.

Is my heart okay? Was a transplant right for me? This heart works worse than my damaged heart. What if all this pain was for nothing?

This heart is always pounding. Every second I’m awake I can feel and hear it. It’s always THUD, THUD, THUD.

I have anxiety because of the heart transplant. I have never had anxiety as bad as this before transplant. What if this heart stops pounding? My staples feel like they’re going to pop and my chest is going to open up.

I HATE THIS POLE. Why is there such a big pole next to me! There’s tons of cords coming from my body. I always get myself tangled. There’s more plastic in me than the Pacific Ocean.

Why the hot and cold sensations? One moment I’m hot, the next moment I’m cold. I can’t sleep because of this (and also the pain). I lie down and in minutes I start sweating. I sit up and I’m instantly freezing.

Physical therapy is the worst. They want me to walk around the unit three times a day. I can barely sit, not even walk. When I walk I have to constantly take breaks. I also have to concentrate to not trip and fall over my lines connected to my IVs, which sucks.

I try to distract myself from the horribleness of this situation by watching TV. Nothing can distract myself from the pain. It’s always nagging and tugging at me. Like, why?

I’m so sad. I can’t explain how sad I am. Everything seems hopeless. This heart transplant was supposed to be my treatment, but it’s not working. All it’s brought was pain.

June 3, 2018 (Sick Pt. 1)

I woke up with a sore throat. In the past, a sore throat is a precursor to being sick. I CAN’T get sick. I’m only 2 months post heart transplant. When you’re sick, you’re more prone to infections. If I get an infection, I might contract cancer, and the only treatment is chemotherapy. Or infections could damage my new heart and I’ll need another heart.

Let me explain:

It’s really easy for me to get sick right now. Your immune system fights off colds, but it also fights foreign substances. When I got my heart transplant, the doctors created a black death for my immune system. That way my white blood cells can’t fight against my new heart.  

After the black death, I also take immunosuppressants. Immunosuppressants are medications that suppress your immune system. We need to make sure the population of my white blood cells are controlled. With these immunosuppressants, I’m more vulnerable to infections.

I say right now because when you’re fresh out of transplant you’ll be more vulnerable than a year later. As your body gets more adjusted to your new organ, you can decrease your immunosuppressants and allow your immune system to become stronger. As I’m only 2 months post, I’m more vulnerable than I will be 6 months post.

If I get sick right now, I don’t know whether my immune system will be strong enough to fight it. If my immune system isn’t strong enough, I can get an infection. The infection can damage my heart, and worse case scenario make me need another one.

Another possibility is I get lymphoma. When you’re sick, you activate your lymph nodes to fight off infections. Lymphoma comes from those lymph nodes. If you’re to get cancer after heart transplant, it’ll be lymphoma. The only treatment for me is chemotherapy.

June 4, 2018 (Sick Pt. 2)

I’ve been coughing a lot today. I think I’m sick. I don’t want to be sick. I don’t want to go back to the hospital (see June 3, 2018 Sick Pt. 1).

Tonight I was shivering. I was shivering yet hot at the same time. I think it’s because of my prednisone.

When we left the hospital, the doctors told us to call them anytime I needed. They gave us a binder with the hospital’s number on the cover. The number was available 24/7. My mom didn’t call the doctors because she was afraid that I would have to go back into the hospital for a common cold.

November 9, 2018

Pleasanton is really smoky today. There’s a wildfire 2 hours away, and as a result the air is filled with smoke. It’s so polluted you can’t see the sun.

When my dad stepped outside today, he said “Is this air quality okay for Justin?” My mom asked me if I wanted to go to school today. I told her I wanted to, but I said I would wear a mask.

When I was staying at the Ronald McDonald House I had therapy sessions with a psychologist, WIth my therapist we discussed about wearing a mask. I told her I didn’t want to wear a mask, since it made me stick out in school. However, I know that i definitely should wear my mask today.

When I got to my class, my classmate told me she didn’t expect me to be at school today. She said that since the air was so bad, I would’ve stayed at home.

November 15, 2018

My Mom decided to pull me out of school after study hall. The air pollution is so bad from the fire nearby. I signed out by the health office, and I met the school nurse. I told her I had a heart transplant, and she instantly knew that I was Justin.

She recommended me to not come to school tomorrow. She’s not the only one; all of my classmates also told me to stay home.

I’m considering it. I miss school constantly for doctor appointments, and I know when you miss one day of school, you do twice the work of that day. That’s why I’m hesitant to skip school.

It was nice meeting the school nurse.

December 6, 2018

I’ve been sneezing and blowing my nose all day.

I’m scared that I’m sick. I don’t want to be sick.

I don’t want my heart to be rejected by my body. Or my heart to have an infection.

Okay, so if I’m sick, is it really that bad? There’s a very little chance of that happening.

There’s still a chance though.

Idk maybe I’m just too worried.

I do everything to protect myself from being sick. In school when someone even coughs I instantly switch seats to the back of the classroom. I never participate in activities outside because I don’t want to get cold or muddy.

Oh wait… yes I do! Yes I do!

Everyday I swim at night.

Everyday I swim at night!

The one thing that’s supposed to be shielding my heart from infections, is giving my heart infections?

It’s also December. Ever since late November it’s been more and more cold.

Well, I have a doctors appointment tomorrow at Stanford.

Should I tell them about this? Is it even important?

They have dying children to take care of. Should I tell them I think I might be sick?

December 12, 2018

I think I’m losing hope.

My G-tube doctor is going to start me on new medication. It’s going to stimulate my appetite.

Since August, I haven’t gained any weight. If I don’t gain weight, then my G-tube is never going to be out.

I’m so sad.

Everyone can eat! That’s what being normal is. Eating is normal. I’m not normal.

The main reason why I want my G-tube out is because I want to be normal. No one else has a G-tube, so why should I?

Yet.. yet I can’t survive without it. That makes me sad.

I thought I was doing so good. I’m eating and exercising. My health is my number one priority, yet I’m not taking care of it?

I eat before school, at school, right after school, and then a meal for dinner. I even have a cookbook!

And it’s not working!!!

Everyone has opposite problems. Everyone just eats and eats, even if they’re full. I wish I could be like that.

Just because my problem is the opposite from everyone else’s doesn’t mean it’s not any less significant.

I’m also nervous about starting the medication.

When I started the Amiodarone, it interacted with my blood thinners and sent me to the hospital. If somehow the pills interact with my other medications and I need to be sent to the hospital, then that’ll suck a lot.

Of course I can just not take the medication. But I don’t know if I trust myself. I thought I was doing great, but noooooo.

It was predicted that by February I would get my G-tube out, but now it’s not a when but if question. If I don’t gain weight by February then I’ll have to get back onto the feeding.

So what am I going to do about it?

In the Ronald McDonald House, I always pushed my endurance everyday. I have a problem that I can overcome with some work.

For one, I have a scale. I can check my weight. Maybe not daily (I don’t know if I’m dedicated enough for that), but at least more than once a week. Secondly, I can snacks throughout the day. When I’m doing my homework, when I’m sitting in class, or when I’m being lazy.

The future of my body depends on these 4 months between today and March. I need to gain weight.