Each day about 60 people receive an organ transplant, but another 15 people on the waiting list die because not enough organs are available.
Source: Dept. of Health and Human Resources

Hello, my name is Barbara. You are probably a lot like me...you've never given organ donation a second thought. Or maybe you have, but just never got around to making your wishes known. I would like to share with you a very special story that hopefully will help you make this most important decision. This is my story, but it could be the story of any one of a thousand families waiting for an organ donation.

On June 21, 2001, my companion of five years was rushed to the hospital suffering from a heart attack. But let me take you back a few years.

At 1:00 a.m., Tommy woke me up complaining of severe chest pains. He said, "You've got to get me to the hospital now!" I wanted to call the rescue squad, but there was no time. I threw on some jeans, got him in the car and through the pouring rain and fog, I finally made it to the emergency room of the University of Virginia Medical Center at 1:45. My legs were like water and my whole body was shaking. They immediately took him to a room where the tests began. I prayed the doctors would quickly find a medicine that would take away the excruciating pain. Nitroglycerine wasn't working....Demerol wasn't working...Toprol wasn't working. Finally, after several doses of morphine, Tommy was asleep and out of pain. The next three days were spent talking to doctors about possible procedures - another by-pass was out of the question, Tommy's two main arteries were 100 and 95% blocked. In the meantime, Tommy was in so much pain - there was only so much medication they could give him. I remember him clutching a pillow and leaning over a table saying, "I just can't take much more of this pain." I felt helpless. At this point, I honestly thought he would never walk out of the hospital.

On Sunday, June 24, the doctors made the decision to insert a balloon pump into Tommy and put a breathing tube down his throat. The nurse was kind enough to let me see Tommy after the breathing tube was in place and prior to the balloon procedure. I kissed him and told him everything was going to be ok, and he shook his head no and motioned for a pen and paper. He was already slightly sedated at this point and I was asked to leave the room. I would never know what he was trying to say and it haunted me for the next two weeks. I will never forget the look on his face as I left the room. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the curb outside of the hospital crying uncontrollably, thinking how would I go on without Tommy in my life. I remember a police officer asking Tommy's son, "Is she ok? Is she with you?"

From this point on, for the next 14 days, Tommy was in a coma-like state, not able to open his eyes, talk, or even move. We were told he almost died from the balloon pump procedure. He was in such a weakened condition when he got to the hospital. This didn't give us much hope and all his family could do at this point was pray. The nurses in the CCU unit are wonderful, experienced professionals, and I would be remiss if I did not mention them by name here and thank each one for the excellent care provided to Tommy during his stay in this unit: Sue Cuppett, Pam Slade, Sharon Williams, Greg Paquin, Jennie Rickard, Chris Watts and Helen Chappel. Your expertise, compassion and understanding is deeply appreciated.

Over the next couple of days, the doctors discussed implanting an LVAD into Tommy's chest. An LVAD is a Left Ventricular Assist Device and this device would actually act as the left side of his heart, which was totally nonfunctional at this point, until a heart could be found and a heart transplant performed. The operation took place on Thursday, June 28 and took about 6 hours. The family gathered in a little room waiting for news from the doctors. When they walked in and told us Tommy made it through the surgery, I jumped up and hugged the first doctor that walked through the door! All I could say, allbeit with a lump in my throat, was thank you, thank you, thank you! Words cannot describe the feeling of happiness and relief at that very moment. Thanks to the excellent heart surgeons at the University of Virginia Medical Center, Dr. Curtis Tribble, Dr. Scott Buchanan, Dr. John Kern, and Dr. Irving Kron, Tommy made it through the surgery (we were given a 60-85% chance he would survive the operation.) It was touch and go for the next 72 hours. At 4:00 a.m. I received a call from the doctor saying Tommy was bleeding internally and they would have to go back in and try to stop the bleeding. I was told this was fairly common and that I shouldn't worry. Right! At 7:00 a.m., the second operation was over and Tommy pulled through. Several days later a chest tube had to be inserted to drain fluid from Tommy's chest. Again, Tommy pulled through this procedure.

I won't go into all the details here, but I have to tell you that seeing Tommy after these procedures was a bit of a shock. When I walked into his room, I didn't recognize him. I was standing there looking at a man whom I've known for five years and yet I didn't know this man in the bed. He was swollen, bruised, had tubes everywhere, and was in a coma-like state. All I could do was hold his hand and tell him I loved him and that I would be there with him until he walked out of the hospital. I remember leaving and all I could do was break down and cry until I almost choked. I just knew I would never bring him home.

Over the next couple of weeks the doctors kept Tommy sedated because of the breathing tube. At times Tommy would open his eyes, but was in a "dreamlike" state and not aware of his surroundings. I spent countless hours at his bedside hoping for a slight movement of his hand - anything that would tell me Tommy was still with us, but there was nothing but deadening silence. As time went on, I would say, "If you can hear me, squeeze my hand." The first time I felt him move his hand, I knew he was aware I was there! This was a gigantic step towards recovery! When his breathing tube was finally removed, he tried to talk, but his vocal cords were slightly damaged and it was very difficult to understand what he was trying to say. I found out later that he doesn't remember anything from June 21 until he finally woke up two weeks later. During that time, he had horrible nightmares and can recall every detail. Again, I was told this is fairly common, but to hear his recount of the dreams is fascinating! He dreamt he was on a ship trying to escape and no one would listen to him. And it's amazing - every visitor was in Tommy's dreams at some point. So I have to believe at some level, Tommy was aware of the people around him - he just couldn't talk. Tommy had to learn how to do everything again - sit up, eat, walk, etc. I'll never forget the day I walked into his room and he was sitting up in a chair - this was a major accomplishment. I had to feed him for several days and hold water up to his mouth, as he couldn't lift his hands. The day I saw him lift a fork was the day I was finally convinced that I would take him home again, I just didn't know when.

Tommy was finally moved to a step-down unit - this was good news because it meant he was getting better. Again, I must thank the wonderful, caring nurses in this unit for their excellent care of Tommy: Samantha Maddox, Julie Nitzsche, Brooke Buckley, Sandra Wilson, Nancy Gross, Cynthia Good, Jennifer Woodruff, Sandra Wilson, Virginia Langley, Gregory Weiss, Samuel Arnold, Richard Lee, and Cynthia Good. I'm sure Tommy was a handful, but they took it all in stride! I'll never forget the day Tommy wanted to "take a walk" (in his wheelchair, of course) and Julie grabbed her lunch and said, "Let's go. We're going for a walk." They went upstairs on the 5th floor where Tommy could get some fresh air while Julie ate her lunch. All of the nurses at the hospital seem to go that extra mile for their patients. I hope they realize how comforting this is to the families. It's nice to know when we leave our loved ones, they are in good hands!

Three weeks after the VAD surgery, Tommy was on his way home. There was a lot of work to do during that three weeks - physical therapy, learning how to change bandages, and most of all, learning the "equipment." Tommy and I received extensive training from the UVA staff. Carole Ballew, Heart Failure and Cardiac Transplantation Coordinator, spent countless hours explaining the VAD equipment, how to recognize "trouble", and most importantly, how to correct it. Carole and Dr. James Bergin, Medical Director of Cardiac Transplantation and Heart Failure Program, kept a close eye on Tommy during the next two months during his weekly check-ups at the heart clinic. They became like family and always made Tommy and I feel very special. This is what amazed me most - I knew the UVA staff was competent, but I learned they also have that human touch, which is so important in situations like this. They always managed to set our minds at ease and feel comfortable during this period.

As anyone knows, when a family member is in the hospital for a long period of time, life goes on. I was spending most of my time at the hospital and things at home were backing up. I worried that the grass was not getting cut, the clothes were not getting washed, the family pets were being ignored. Small chores suddenly became enormous responsibilities. I didn't know how I could do 20 things at one time, especially since I couldn't be at home very often, but Tommy needed me now and I needed him. It seemed like everything that could go wrong, went wrong! Our neighbors, Wendall and Tammi Brown, and their three children, Justin, Rebekah and Gatlin, were right there at every disaster. They also saw to it that the grass was cut, the koi were fed, the dogs were let out - the list goes on and on. I came home one day and Rebekah had cleaned the entire house! Everything they did was one less thing I had to do, and suddenly life became bearable again. You can't say enough for good neighbors and friends! It's so important to have a support system at times like this, and I feel very fortunate to live next door to the Brown's!

While Tommy was recuperating in the hospital, he asked me to marry him. Of course I said yes! He said he was planning on asking me on my birthday, June 22, but that was the day after he entered the hospital. We were married on August 11 at our home with friends and family present. It was an absolutely beautiful wedding and one of the happiest days of my life.

Tommy is #30 at the University of Virginia Medical Center to have an LVAD implanted successfully. He is also the FIRST person who has left the hospital three weeks after the operation. His recuperation has been so successful that it has amazed everyone - even the doctors! He must wear batteries during the day and is hooked up to a central power unit at night - all minor inconveniences at this point. He is alive and he is doing well -- we are just waiting for a new heart. The LVAD will last from 1 1/2 years up to two years - that is our window of hope. The picture on the left shows Tommy wearing his batteries in a holster-like harness. Notice the ever-present smile :)

If you've made it this far into my story, I thank you. I hope in some small way you will think about being an organ donor - talk to your friends and family, and anyone who will listen. It's the gift of life, and every life is worth saving. I have become an organ donor and I hope I will be able to give the gift of life to someone one day...someone like Tommy who has gone through so much and can still smile and have a good outlook on life.

I want to thank the doctors and nurses at the University of Virginia Medical Center who have made it possible for Tommy to come home again. They have given Tommy a second chance, and we will be forever grateful.

Update: I completed this page (or so I thought) on August 31, 2001 at 9:00 p.m.
The phone rang at 11:30 p.m. and it was the hospital telling us they have a heart and Tommy is second on the list, that he should be ready in case they call. If we don't hear from them by 5:00 a.m., the heart was successfully given to another patient. It is now 1:01 a.m. as I sit here anxiously awaiting for the phone to ring. Bags are packed and we are ready. As wonderful as this news was for Tommy's sake, it saddens me to know there is a family grieving right now for the loss of their loved one.

For the thousands of people around the world waiting for organ transplants, each day is a gift from God, and each tomorrow represents hope.

Our story continues...Our prayers are answered...
Tommy receives a new lease on life!! Click here to read our update!

Please give the gift of life....Please become an organ donor

To email me, go to Barbara's Basement

Kiss your children every day - today is gone, and tomorrow may never come.