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.

May 5, 2018

A PICC Line was installed today.

A PICC Line is like a more permanent IV. They put it inside of me the same way they put in an IV: with a needle. However, my Mom and I had to wear caps and masks while they did it. The extra protection has something to do with preventing infection.

They took out the IV in my neck. Or was it a blood pressure monitor? Either way I’m glad it’s out. It’s not the most comfortable thing in the world.

They also replaced the gauze and tape covering my chest tube holes. It’s closing nicely.

A big thing: I transferred from ICU (Intensive Care Unit) to PCU (Patient Care Unit) today. The ICU is mainly where you stay if you’re in critical condition and need constant monitoring. The PCU is where you stay if you’re in better condition and have more privacy.

For me, the PCU is my transition phase between surgery and discharge from the hospital. I can’t wait to be discharged from the hospital (see May 15, 2018). Even though I won’t be going home immediately after, I still can’t wait to get discharged.

May 6, 2018

My English teacher visited me today. She’s my Honors English teacher. To be clear, she’s the English teacher that failed me.

So when I was picking classes in 8th grade I picked Honors English because honors (I wanted to be smart alright). I had NO idea I would’ve been in and out of the hospital for my entire Freshman year at High School. I was set back in her class, and she gave me a D. What kind of English teacher fails their student then visits them at the hospital?

She gave me cards that my class made for me. If I’m going to be honest, I don’t care about the cards at all. I know that the class just made it in fake kindness. They’ll feel bad for a moment, do their “kind” part, then move on.

Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t say that. I’m just so angry! I’m in all this pain everyday. I… I’m struggling to keep my sanity intact.

Maybe I don’t even deserve the cards. What have I done? Complain all day thinking the world was about me? What was I expecting?

Reality is harsh. Out of the 50 million people that could’ve had hypereosinophilia, it was ME. What awesome luck.

If it wasn’t because of that I could’ve had a way better life. I could’ve been a soccer player, been way taller than 5’3”, not had any blood draws in my entire life, and been normal. I COULD’VE BEEN AN ATHLETE!

Oh my god what are these fluctuating emotions.

May 7, 2018

They told me if I take this sleeping medication I would fall asleep. It’s 2 AM.

I should be happy with my heart transplant. Not everyone even gets this chance. But I’m not happy.

I want to end my pain. I did not expect this pain. At all.

I can’t sleep because I’m extremely hot. So hot I’m sweating.

I’m experiencing a hot and cold sensation. My circulation is crazy because of my new heart. When I lie down, I feel like I just entered the sauna. Then the heat just keeps on increasing until it’s unbearable. When I pull my blankets off me, I get super cold. It’s like I traveled from the sauna to an 5 AM freezing outdoor swimming pool.

Sitting up isn’t an easy task. I have to squeeze a pillow around my incision area, and do a crunch. Especially being so sore, it takes a lot of effort.

Even when I do catch a break with sleep, I keep getting woken up from the machines beeping, the nurse checking blood pressure, sudden need to use the restroom, and most often the unbearable heat.

At least when the sun is up I have things to do. I can eat, watch movies, talk to my Mom. and… well that’s it. I’m in too much pain to do any homework or work on anything else. I don’t have any video games to play, and the video games in my room are broken. But at least I have something to do!

In the hospital, time is against you. An hour is a day, a day is a month, and a month is a year. If I could somehow speed up time, I would.

At night I usually just stare into the darkness and think. I’ve been having a lot of dark thoughts from all the pain. I’m not suicidal, but I just want the pain to end.

Why me? Why did I have to get this heart transplant? Why did I have to get a heart transplant in the first place?

Was a heart transplant the right choice? I don’t think it is. My new heart is way worse than my old heart. What if I stay this way forever? Then what will happen? I can’t live like this.

May 8, 2018

Today I went outside for the first time since surgery.

At the PCU there’s a patio overlooking the hospital garden. I went outside to the patio.  

It was nice breathing fresh air. The PCU smells because they have to sanitize it all the time. There’s always a smell of clorox bleach and hand sanitizers.

I also liked that it was warm. The PCU is always cold because they have to ensure no bacteria grows. Outside also is bright. Being inside all the time drains you.

I decided to eat my breakfast outside. I had some cheerios, sausage, milk, and hash browns. Even though there’s a lot of pain after transplant, I actually have more appetite. If this continues then I can get my G-tube out.

A G-tube is a tube that is placed through my stomach. I can insert nutrients and calories through it. That’s what I’ve been using for the past 15 years.

I’ve tried to get off the G-tube last year. That was a bad time to try because that’s when I contracted PLE (Protein Losing Enteropathy). Protein Losing Enteropathy is when your body doesn’t absorb the protein you eat. It’s a side effect of a failing heart. I lost a lot of weight during that time. The doctors forced me to get back on my tube feeding.

May 9, 2018

Today is my first biopsy.

A biopsy is a procedure where they take a small machine that goes through your veins, and takes a piece of your tissue. For me, it’ll take a piece of my heart tissue. That way, the doctors can test my rejection.

The nurses put some “happy juice” inside of me. I instantly got high. I actually like this feeling! Then I went to sleep.

When I woke up there was band-aid over my incision area. I felt nothing during the procedure. I think it only took 15 minutes. I was told not to move for 2 hours. I was feeling really sweaty by the time that 2 hours was up. The reason was because of my hot and cold sensations; I feel extremely hot when I lie down.

I’ve resorted to watching tons of movies.

Today I’m watching Lord of the Rings.

My hot and cold sensations are so uncomfortable that I can’t even sit comfortably. I always have to adjust myself so that I don’t get sweaty.

I also keep hearing my heart pounding. It’s always THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, all the time. Even when I’m doing nothing!

I also can’t get any sleep. None. I’m doing nothing all day yet I can’t get any sleep. That sucks.

May 10, 2018

I’m cordless! That stupid pole is now gone!

They stopped dripping medication for my kidneys. Instead, they’ll just insert medications throughout the day.

I can finally walk around without dragging that big stupid pole. Now I can walk outside my unit and downstairs. Walking is a lot more tiring dragging the pole around.

There was a festival today on the 3rd floor. For some reason, Tearaway, a video game, wants to advertise their product at a children’s hospital.

There was a PS4 demo, which was cool. With the PS4, they demonstrated VR. I couldn’t bend my neck around for the VR because of my neck staples. I don’t want to pull at them since they’re practically loose.

They gave me a water bottle, lunch box (like I’d be going to school soon. Ha!), and a blanket.

May 11, 2018

I love the outdoors. Since I went out to the ICU’s patio (see May 8, 2018), I’ve loved the fresh air and warm temperature.

I don’t like being inside the hospital. Inside my room it’s so dark, cramped, and smelly. Outside, it’s so nice. I don’t even have to wear my mask outside.

Everyday I need physical therapy. Today I walked outside into the hospital’s garden for exercise. It was hard, but at least I was having fun.

I asked my doctors when I could be discharged, but they said not yet 🙁

In the hospital an hour is a day, a day is a month, and a month is a year. In real life, you want more time. In the hospital, you want time to speed up. Distraction are keys to speed up time.

Movies are now my choice of distraction. I’ve already finished watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy. When the Family Resource Center opens, I’m going to rent out the Mission Impossible series.

May 12, 2018

I watched Mission Impossible all day. I found that watching movies is a great way to distract from the pain.

At the Lucile Packard Stanford Children’s Hospital there’s a Family Resource Center, where you can rent movies and DVD players. I rented so many movies: The Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Captain America series, The Avengers series, Matilda, and Tom & Jerry. Now I’m moving onto the Mission Impossible series.

For my physical therapy, I walked downstairs to the cafeteria. I bought food at the cafeteria, and ate food outstairs. I can’t eat inside because I’m required to wear a mask in the hospital at all times. I don’t want to go back to my gloomy room and eat. I ate outside, but I’m not supposed to be outside, so I had to find creative ways to sit in the shade.

May 12, 2018

I hate the night.

The night is horrible. I can’t sleep so I just stay up and stare into the wall.

Before I went to slept I talked to a nurse. She told me that it was normal for me to be sad. She took care of other heart transplant people and said they were sad after transplant too.

She told me all the sensations were normal. The heart pounding, hot and cold, and inability to sleep was normal.  For the heart pounding my heart was adjusting to my new body. For my hot and cold sensations, my circulation is going crazy because my heart’s pumping abnormally.

Then why would the doctors not tell me about this in the transplant education? Last year, before I was put on the transplant list, I was educated about everything of transplant by a doctor. Yet they never said anything about heart pounding or hot and cold sensations.

I expected pain. I expected a giant cut down my chest. I expected being in the hospital for a long time. I did not expect my heart and pounding. I did not expect my hot and cold sensations. I did not expect an emotional rollercoaster.

The nurse told me about an orphan baby. An orphan had a heart transplant at this hospital. Since he had no parents to take care of him, she would cradle him in her breaks.

I can’t imagine being here without my Mom. Some children’s parents don’t stay with them at the hospital. What kind of parents do that? I couldn’t imagine choosing work over my child in the hospital.

Now I know that my sensations are normal. Then when does it start to go away?

Does the knowledge that my sensations are normal help me? Yes. I’ve been questioning whether transplant was right for me, so at least I know I’m not dying.