January 3, 2019

Kayano’s kidney came today!

If you remember, Kayano was my next door neighbor at the Ronald McDonald House (see July 3, 2018 for his birthday).

This is amazing. Kayano has been at the Ronald McDonald House since May, and he really deserves his kidney.

After his transplant Kayano can finally go home and go back to a normal life. That’s awesome.

Kayano’s life today will change forever. After his kidney transplant, he’ll experience sensations he has have never experienced before, and be able to do actions he’s never done before.

Waiting is the hardest part, but they got through it.

They got through it! Woohoo!

Kayano has a great life ahead of him. I can’t wait to see what’s in store for him.

February 28, 2019

I haven’t posted much lately for the entire month of February, and I’m sorry about that.

I’m going to be real honest here, I kinda forgot about this blog. I know that sounds bad, but if you think about it, it’s actually good.

It means that I don’t think of my heart transplant much anymore.

And that’s great!

At the beginning of the school year, I remember thinking about my heart all day at school. Walking through the hallways, taking notes, and eating lunch, all I thought was, “Heart transplant, heart transplant, heart transplant.”

Heart transplant used to be my life, but now it’s not.

Now that I have a life, everything’s back to “normal”. I know I can’t be completely “normal” again, but maybe I can be semi-”normal”.

March 27, 2019

I call today a success!

Remember December 12, 2018, when the G-tube doctor told me I needed to gain ten pounds in three months?

I have gained ten pounds!

I told the doctor that I don’t think the medication need me feel more of an appetite, so I’m going to stop taking the Periactin (Cyproheptadine).

My mom is still a little nervous (and I am too! March 26, 2019) about pulling it out so we’ll wait until June. During June we’ll pull out the G-tube for good!

Since I have had the G-tube for almost my entire life, it’s most likely the hole won’t close up on its own. We might need stitches to close up the hole for good.

Also, when we pull the G-tube out, the hole will be leaking for a few days. I will be dripping everywhere, so I predict a big problem.

Oh well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

The Promise Land -April 27, 2019

Hello, world! Today is exactly one year since my heart transplant.

I cannot emphasize how important today is. The one year mark is my promise land: filled with happiness, liberty, and freedom.

I want to recap with what I was doing on April 27, 2018.

During Spring Break I was at Stanford for another procedure. My mom and I were looking at online schools for my sophomore year at High School.

Since I thought 2018 was my last year at a physical High School, I decided to have some fun. That weekend I was going to attend a club convention at San Francisco.

April 27, 2018, was a Friday and I was planning to leave on Saturday. Before I went to sleep, I packed for a night at a hotel.

At 3 am my dad woke me up. He told me there was a heart waiting for me.

When I was in the hospital, it hurt so much. I cannot stress how much pain I endured.

Holding onto hope was hard. Not only was I fighting physical battles, but I was also fighting mental battles.

I looked at the one year mark as my promise land. I said to myself, “One year from now everything and everything will change.”

Let’s be real, I didn’t have anything in the present, so I looked into the future.

I didn’t expect the pain to get to where I am right now, but I got here.

Not only did I survive, but I thrived. As Mr. Lewin told me, “You not only persevere through hardship, but you exceeded beyond all expectations. You knock on the door before blowing it up.”

That’s not what he precisely said, but it’s close.

There is hope in the world. I didn’t believe it in the hospital, but I sure do now.

I know that in the future I will face tremendous challenges I can’t even fathom right now, but with love, hope, and perseverance I can persist through anything.

Yes, I can persist through anything.

Hope is mankind’s greatest weakness and greatest strength.

Anonymous

☝️ fun I had with friends to celebrate

May 11, 2019

Today I had a full night of sleep, which is awesome. When I woke up, my undershirt was pulled above my chest, and my hand was on my chest.

My scar is still sore, but not as sore as it used to be last year.

Reflecting back, exactly one year ago from today, I experienced intense pain. I doubted my heart transplant so many times, because how could life-saving treatment be so painful?

I was wrong because everything is so beautiful right now.

I am so grateful for everything right now. For sleep, food, health, and comfort.

Count your rainbows, not your thunderstorms.

Alyssa Knight

Last Day of School – May 31, 2019

Today was the last day of school, and it couldn’t have gone better. I officially survived my sophomore year (10th grade) of High School!

I did fine academically this year, which is unexpected. Another thing surprising is how well I adjusted back into life.

This school year was different from all the other school years because of my heart transplant. A year ago, I was picking brochures for my online High School. I was preparing to start my sophomore year online.

I think my most significant accomplishment of this year was my success. I not only survived, but I also thrived.

In a year, I started a blog, released a cookbook, and developed healthy habits that’ll guide me for the rest of my life.

If I can do all of that within a year, who knows what will occur during the next year?

I have dreams, but for the first time, my dreams seem attainable. I’m so close to my goals that I can feel my fingertips barely grazing them.

As my English teacher said, “I’m expecting great things from you.”

This is only the beginning. The beginning of what? I don’t know. Whatever IT is, it’s going to be great.

Look out world, Justin Wang is coming!

June 14, 2019 – Retirement Party

Today Dr. B retired. He’s been my oncologist for a while: since I was a toddler with Loeffler’s syndrome. 

Dr.B has been amazing with what’s been happening. I haven’t seen him for a couple of years, then after I had my transplant I showed up at his clinic and was like “heyo!”

I was invited to his retirement party. A lot of his patients were invited and I had the honor of being one of them.

It was packed. The room had so many patients, all connected to him. There was a table with a lot of food — chow mein, egg rolls, dumplings — and I was encouraged to eat some.

Kim, my social worker from those toddler days, told me “everyone in this room has a story.” So I decided to seek out those stories.

There was a mom whose son was treated by Dr. B. Unfortunately, cancer got the best of him and he passed away. 

There was another child who was 5. The mom told me he had cancer, but he was successfully treated and is now cancer-free. 

Then the speeches started. Dr. B. had a motivating message: childhood cancer is devastating, but your future is what you decide it to be. 

After that, patients stood up and talked about their stories with Dr. B. Some even cried. It was just that emotional.

One patient was 18 when she was diagnosed with cancer, but Dr. B. fought for her to stay on the pediatric side. She later learned if she was transferred to the adult side, she would’ve died.

The mom of the 5-year-old cancer free boy also stood up and started to cry.

His collegue, a doctor, said that although Dr. B. was a funny guy, he’s also very strong. When a patient passed, they both had an emotional, touching cry together.

Afterwards, patients lined up to talk to Dr. B. and say their last regards. I stayed until the food was being put away, so that I could ask about his plans after retirement. He said he wanted to study something.

I think it’s really cool what he did. He left behind a legacy of patients that are alive because of him. Many aspiring doctors studying in school start off with the dream he has.

Although it’s sad he has to go, it’s happy because he left a lot of joy behind. Overall, what a great life.

April 27, 2020 – 2 years!!

I cannot believe this. It’s been 2 years!! Happy transplanniversary (or second birthday)!

I won’t lie, it’s been hard. But the road was worth it. I’m going to reflect back on my life, and say it’s been surreal.

Every transplant recipient is a fighter. I can’t imagine how everyone else’s journey. Together, we make a community with a shared experience.

I’m also really excited for the future. I’ve been keeping up with my online classes, and I have very bright hopes for what’s coming. 🤞

I’m sorry if this is really short or if I can’t deliberate a lot, but I just want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart to the donor family, and everyone that’s supported me.

My mom and I are going to drive around (just got my permit!) and have a picnic from somewhere far away from people (still in lockdown) to celebrate.

I’m sorry about the sporadic updating of the blog and how there’s a bunch of holes and timeline missing, but I’ll get back to it and update it. Thanks for your patience! Bye 👋

May 29, 2020 – I’ve graduated!

I have some really exciting stuff to share… I’ve graduated! I know it’s crazy, but I’ve graduated from high school, and one year early too! Ever since the start of the coronavirus, I’ve transferred to James Madison High School, an online high school. James Madison High School is self paced, which means they give you the option to work as slow or as fast as you want.

When I have an opportunity in front of me, I never let it pass. I made the decision to accelerate through my classes and did! I’m really proud of myself for graduating a year early, because it means more time for my bachelor’s degree!

Because of the coronavirus, I’ve decided not to go to a four-year university. It’s just not worth paying full tuition for online classes. Instead, I’m going to save money and start at community college. My plan is to stay at community college for a year, and then transfer to university for Fall 2021.

As for the graduation ceremony, James Madison High School has one planned for September. Again, I’m not going (immunocompromised here). It’s alright, since the graduation ceremony isn’t that important to me anyway.