Dr. Bove was on vacation, so Dr. Dillon monitored me every other day and took me off all physical activity. Exactly a week after the first echocardiogram, Dr. Dillon felt something wasn’t right and decided to repeat the echocardiogram and Doppler echo. This time, a blood clot was found in the right atrium of my heart. Dr. Dillon left it up to my parents to decide where to take me. He believed going to Michigan would allow me to be there when Dr. Bove returned from vacation and thought Dr. Bove was my best chance for survival. Dr. Dillon had my family and me standing in the hallway, hands clasped with my parents, praying fervently for God's protection and a medical miracle to guide me through. We immediately drove to Michigan in pouring rain, with a large storm known to produce tornadoes following us. A tornado from that storm even touched down in Cincinnati. This was March 2, 2012—my parents’ wedding anniversary, one they’ll never forget. Dr. Dillon told us that I will be having open heart surgery that night when we arrived in Michigan.

At C.S. Mott Children’s Hospital, the doctors used Heparin to dissolve the blood clot and prescribed Milrinone to support my left ventricle's function. The doctors wanted my cardiac output to improve before doing the Tricuspid valve repair. However, they later realized that my tricuspid valve was severely damaged and my left ventricle wasn’t functioning properly. They explained that the only remaining option was a heart transplant.

Faced with this decision, my parents had to choose between staying in Michigan or transferring me to Cincinnati Children’s Hospital Medical Center, which was closer to our family. The hospital coordinated my transfer, arranging for me to be transported by Mobile Intensive Care Unit (MICU) to Cincinnati on March 6, 2012.

All the necessary transplant tests were completed, including a catheterization to measure pressures within my heart chambers and vessels. My heart function had decreased significantly, and the electrocardiogram (ECG) revealed a bundle branch block and P waves. The doctors even discussed the possibility of a Berlin Heart pump, which consists of two pumps—one for the left ventricle and one for the right. However, there was only room for one pump. On a positive note, my lung pressures remained low.

On March 9, 2012, I was officially listed as Status 1A—the highest priority on the transplant waiting list, though I had low seniority. We were told I might wait anywhere from three to six months for a heart and would need to stay in the hospital, as the medication supporting my left ventricle function required continuous IV administration.

When word of my condition spread, we received prayers from all over the world through Facebook. I also got many packages and cards at the hospital—it felt like Christmas! I received balloons, cards from different schools, snacks, games, puzzles, lotion, socks, and sketch pads to draw my favorite Sonic characters.

I was in 5th grade at the time, and my school was incredibly supportive. My teacher, Mrs. Jecker, made me feel like I was still part of the class by sending homework on Fridays and even visiting on a Sunday to bring more. She also allowed the class to Skype with me. At the hospital, I had a teacher from Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center who helped me keep up with schoolwork. That was the best part—an hour a day with a teacher counted as a full day of school!

Thanks be to God, I only waited nine days for a heart. When my parents got the call at 6:30 a.m. on March 18, 2012, that the doctors had found a new heart, at first, they didn’t want to tell me. They didn’t want me to become scared. A nurse came into my hospital room and told me that I was in NPO (nothing by mouth). For a second, I thought I was transitioning to hospice care, but then I remembered the nurse I had on March 17 had mentioned that she thought I would get a new heart since it was Saint Patrick’s Day and there is an increase of organ donations. (Accidents or health-related incidents tied to excessive alcohol consumption contribute to a higher number of organ donations.)

I called my parents and told them what was going on. They were on their way to Cincinnati and would explain everything to me once they arrived. When they got to the hospital, they told me they had found a donor heart.

It took a few minutes to sink in. They found a donor heart for me.

The surgeon, Dr. Alistair Phillips, came in and explained that I would be going into the OR at 11:00 a.m. that morning. They went into detail about how the transplant surgery would be performed. I asked if they could take pictures of my old heart and my new heart. The doctor looked taken aback, as no one had asked that before, but he assured me he would do his best to get pictures. In the end, he did, and I received pictures of both my old and new hearts.

I was scared going into surgery, but I told myself that this was my chance to get better and do great things. I kept reminding myself that there would be no more SVTs, no more getting my heart stopped and shocked, I could play soccer and volleyball without issues or have mottled skin, and I wouldn’t have to deal with a heart defect or arrhythmias anymore. I wouldn’t feel like I was going to pass out or have fainting spells in gym class.

Before they put me under, they asked what music I wanted to listen to. At the time, I was into Disney, so I asked them to play Disney music. They did, and it helped calm me down. I told myself, when I wake up from my transplant, I will have a brand-new heart. In prayer, I also promised my donor that I will take care of his heart and I thanked him for the selfless act. When I woke up, my first words were, “Thank you God!” as I sat up for the first time after the successful surgery.

Later, the doctors purposely sped up my new heart to get the pressures down. At first, it terrified me because I thought I was in SVT again, as I felt it and it reminded me of those times. My mom had to ask the nurse to lower the dosage because she was worried my new heart might explode. I remember waking up and seeing chest tubes full of blood, which kind of grossed me out. I tried really hard not to look whenever I needed to use the commode chair. I also got sick a lot and kept throwing up because the anesthesia was wearing off and was still experiencing side effects.

For a short period, I had to take my medicationsorally, and the medicine tasted so bad, especially the Neoral cyclosporine,which tasted oily and burned down my throat, even when mixed with juice.Sometimes, I tried to swallow it down, but I ended up throwing it back up sinceI gagged on it.

The nurses printed a poster with Sonic theHedgehog and my new birthday, March 18, 2012, and hung it on my hospital door.They also showed us X-rays of my old heart and my new heart. My old heart wasso enlarged that it had pushed my trachea back, causing the cough. They nowbelieve I never had asthma. I have since stopped taking steroids, and it wasconfirmed that I do not have asthma. The cough is now gone - permanently.