Brenda Rodgers

Category: heart transplant

  • A Heart Transplant – One Year Later in Words and Pictures

    August 6, 2010.  I could not imagine September coming, much less a year later.

    I was sitting on this bench when I heard the news.  My husband laid down the hall, not far from where I was, and at the end of his bed was a big machine taking the job of his heart and lungs.  It was his life support.  We had been waiting for only two days since he was put on this machine – two months total – for a giving heart donor to be matched with him. 

    Every morning in those days I would wake up and think, “Would this be the day?  Would we get a heart this day?”, with the inner turmoil of even thinking such a thought. 

    I saw him in his stark white lab coat and serious composure coming towards me on August 6, 2010 as I sat on this bench.  It was mid morning, and I was sitting here in front of the elevators watching all of the people getting on and off.  As I looked at each one of them I wondered about their story.  How long have they been here?  Is there’s worse than mine?  Will they leave with their loved-one?  The sun was coming in the wall of glass behind me.  When I looked up I could see the helicopter.  I wondered if it was returning from bringing us his heart. 

    He approached me kind of quickly, and I sat up straight ready to hear what was new, with my husband, laying down the hall, on life support. 

    “I think we’ve got a heart”, he said. 

    All that was around me, the people getting on and off the elevators, the sun shining through the window, the helicopter on top of the building, disappeared.

    “I’m going to go down and look at it, and I will call you if it’s a go.  We’ll be in surgery around 8:00 tonight if we take it.”

    Joy and fear simultaneously overtook me.  My life as I wished it to be hung over the hospital in those next 24 hours. 

    And God delivered a miracle.

    Today we celebrate my husband’s one year anniversary from his heart transplant.


    His old heart failed him with Cardiomyopathy, and through God’s grace, mercy, and love He gave us what we did not earn or deserve.  He gave John the gift of more days of this earth. 

    Today my husband and I can do things together that were only in my dreams one year ago.  He is more active than he ever remembers being.  My heart in overfilled with humility and gratitude for this new life God gave us.

    Here are just a few of our blessings over the past year:

    Pre-Transplant Hospital Visit-  May 2010

    Easter 2011
    Waiting on a heart before life support – July 2010

    Spring 2011 with New Bike

    John’s Heart Party in Atlanta – Post-Transplant – October 2010

    First Time Outside in 31 Days – Post Transplant

    John Outside Today

    First “Real Meal” – Post Transplant August 2010

    Celebrating Our 3 Year Anniversary – June 2011

    Walking Around – Post Transplant September 2010

    Playing Golf Today

    War Wounds of a Hero – Post Transplant September 2010

      5 Months after Transplant Shoveling Snow

     The Hero Today

    We’re Going Home after 43 Days

     A Year Later

    My husband and I remember this day with overwhelming joy, but also with sincere gratitude and mourning.  Today as we celebrate God’s gift to us, there is a precious family whose faces we do not know that is grieving over the loss of their loved one. We thank them deeply for their selfless gift of organ donation to us, and we continue to pray for their healing.  Our hope is to one day meet their loved one in Heaven where we can thank him ourselves.

  • Remembering: Hold Me Up for Miracle #1 – Day 16

    This week we remember John’s road to a  heart transplant.  I wrote this on this day last year. This is the day he was put on life support and we received our first miracle of surviving that surgery.

    Photo Credit

    I walked into my biggest fear this morning.

    John’s staph infection caused another Arrhythmia, but this time one that he could not come out of. His blood pressure was dropping and his temperature was rising. When I got to John’s room, the doctors were already convening to decide what to do. His weak heart could not fight this infection. We were losing John.

    The doctors decided to put John on a form of life support called ECMO (Extracorporeal Membrane Oxygenation). This would allow his body to rest so that the antibiotics could fight his infection. However, being put on ECMO required a surgery, and one that was risky because John was so weak.

    As soon as I got the the waiting room, I began to send texts, messages, and posts begging for prayer. I sat there numb as I cried out to God in my head and read Psalms.

    I said to God that I know His will is perfect. I know that He will sustain me no matter what happens. I know that John is His. But I also told God that I really want John here with me. I begged Him in that hour to save John’s life because I would miss him too much if I lost him. I told Him that I needed John in my life.

    The hour was long and grueling.

    Finally, John’s surgeon came into the waiting room and sat down beside me. It was like, in that moment, all life in the room was still. All breath was gone. The air was stagnant. I felt suspended with nothing below to catch me if I fell. God was holding me up.

    The doctor proceeded to tell me that John was now on life support. The surgery to get him connected to it went o.k. However, he emphasized that John was very, very sick. ECMO was a very short term solution. John had to get a heart in 4-5 days. The fact that John survived this surgery is a miracle from God because he was not expected to survive it.

    About an hour later, I went to see John. At the end of his bed was a huge machine. There was a perfusionist who’s job was to sit there and control the ECMO machine. It looked like a simple job, but from what I understand it is very complicated and highly skilled.

    I rubbed John’s hair like I do at home. I told the nurse’s he knows when I’m here because he feels me rubbing his head. I talked to him and told him how much I love him. I asked him to keep fighting for me and for him. I prayed with him. I held back my tears, and if I had to cry I walked outside the room for a second. I don’t want John to be scared or worried.

    So now I am praying for John to get a heart this weekend. He still has to clear his infection before he can be transplanted, so by this weekend he should be ready. I am still very sensitive to all that this entails and what I am really asking, but I know that God has an ultimate plan that has been in place for a long time. I just pray that one of the hearts that become available matches John. I never thought that John may not make it in time. I have heard countless stories of people who run out of time before they get a heart. But I never thought that would be John.

    Through it all I know that God is in control. I did not know this road that we would take, but He always did.

  • Remembering: Would I Trade You?

    Would I trade you right now – my life for yours? I could move forward with my life with no desperate worries or fears. I could enjoy my marriage by going to dinner, taking longs walks with my husband, and going home to visit family and friends in Georgia. I could maybe have a baby or two and do what a lot of other couples do with soccer practices and dance recitals and trips to Disney World.

    You would think that I would jump at the chance to give up my life right now for someone else’s life.

    But I wouldn’t. Right now I am a part of a wonderful story that God is writing. I have been chosen, not by anything I am or have done, but simply by God’s infinite wisdom and design, to be a part of a miracle. Not just a miracle of physical healing, but a miracle of spiritual healing of all the people who will be touched and affected by John’s story.

    If I traded with you, I would miss out on the blessing – the joy – of watching it unfold and being a part of it in such an intimate way. God has blessed me with joy during this season of my life that could otherwise paralyze me, so that I can experience His sovereignty, His peace, His healing, and His love.

    “Therefore, since we have been made right in God’s sight by faith, we have peace with God because of what Jesus Christ our Lord has done for us. Because of our faith, Christ has brought us into this place of undeserved privilege where we now stand, and we confidently and joyfully look forward to sharing God’s glory.  We can rejoice, too, that when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.” Romans 5:1-5

    So, no, I could never give up this precious gift that God has given me to see Him work firsthand. I feel nothing but honor when I wake up each morning and remember that God has chosen me to be a part of this trial, out of love, so that I can know Him personally by seeing Him work in our lives.

    Reposted from May 11, 2010.

    Have you faced a trial in your life that you would not trade for someone else’s more “perfect” life?

  • Halt

    Halt.

    Life once again has brought us here.  The halt will not be for nearly as long this time, but that does not stop my memory from replaying the feelings from the past nine months when our halt seemed like an eternity and I could not imagine it truly ending.   This time I do not feel like I am looking into oblivion, and for that I am very grateful – and I am still very grateful for John’s heart that makes that possible.

    I am sitting in Duke Clinic as John gets a PICC put in so that he can go home on an IV medication.  For over a month now, he has been sick.  We have not known what was wrong.  First we thought a cold and didn’t think much about it.  Then we thought it was strep throat and went to our primary care doctor.  It wasn’t strep throat.  Next we thought it was Mono and went back to our primary care doctor.  It wasn’t Mono. Just this week his bloodwork from his monthly biopsy showed that the virus John’s new heart was exposed to has decided to show it’s ugly face, and it is active.

    It feels good to know what the problem is and even better that there is not any immediate concern.  John’s doctors told us that at about the six month mark this virus likes to remind its host that it’s still around.  Like we needed a reminder.  We have a lot of reminders from the past valley in our lives.  John will be on an IV medication for a few weeks, and then will hopefully be better than ever as he has been the last several months.

    Our nights and weekends are once again spent nurturing John’s body instead of doing things we enjoy.  The daily struggles we experienced last spring have resurfaced.  The feelings of defeat and exhasution have returned.

    Honestly John is not anywhere close to as sick as he was last spring when his sick heart was still trying to sustain him, but for me I think just the taste of those days has left me more irritated, frustrated, and concerned than I even was back then.  Back then I didn’t know what to expect.  I didn’t know what was going to happen next or how bad it could be.  I didn’t know how good it could be either.  I just lived the experience, like on adrenaline, not knowing what was behind me or ahead of me.

    Now I know, and in many ways it is even harder to rest in God’s all-knowing peace and provision.  Now I want to just throw up my hands and say, “You’ve got to be kidding me!  Enough!  When is enough!”  I got a taste of  “the good life”, and I don’t want to go back.

    When in reality the good life is still now, and the good life was back then. 

    Today I have John.  We have a future. 

    Back then I had John.  And we had a future. 

    “For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11 (NLT)

    This is just proof, as we were told, that a heart transplant is not a cure.  It’s just a better way to manage a life that will sometimes be filled with health and sometimes will not – just like all of our lives.  I don’t know why I am surprised by this every time something happens in my life that I don’t like – like I was blindsided for the first time and never expected to experience any more days of uncertainty.  Jesus specifically says, “Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” John 16:33 (NLT)  He says “here of earth”.  I will be here on earth until I am in Heaven with Him, so every day has the potentil to be a day that my life halts.  He also says, “MANY trials and sorrows.”  So I will never be completely finished with my trials and sorrows until I am with Him.

    My test is to relish in these times of halt and remain faithful in thanksgiving that God is the same as He was last summer, when He held me tight and allowed me to experience His peace.  These are the times when I get to hold on tight once again, and just halt, so that He can show me that He is still here, His peace is still available, and He will provide for me everything I need.

  • Happy 6 Month Birthday, John!!

    Six months ago today, at this very moment, I was standing in the ICU waiting room on the fifth floor of Duke Hospital.  John’s parents were there with me, and his sister, Jamie, and brother-in-law, Will, had just arrived from Georgia. John had gotten matched with a heart, and we were waiting for the nurse to come and tell us it was time for us to see him for the last time before his transplant.

    I remember her coming into the waiting room.  We weren’t the only family in there.  Others were waiting, too, to see their loved one a last time before visiting hours ended.  Typically only two family members are allowed back at a time, but this time she told us we all needed to come back. 

    I walked out of the room first and started shaking, and not crying, but just breathing hard.  Jamie walked with me with her arm around me, and we squeezed each other hard.

    At the end of John’s bed was the machine as tall as me that had kept him alive for the previous two days.  This machine had a name, ECHMO, which confused me at first, because it took me several hours after he was hooked up to it to realize that its real name is LIFE SUPPORT.

    I looked at John.  I want to say he looked peaceful.  But he did not.  Every part of his body had some type of tube coming out of it.  I knew that this was the next step – only not the last step.  John was unresponsive to commands even though he was off of all sedation medications.  The doctor told me, “We’re going to take him into surgery, but you need to know that he may not wake up.”

    We stood around John’s bed as doctors and nurses hurried around us preparing him – disconnecting and reconnecting medicines, transferring his oxygen and tubes to portable versions that could take him into the operating room.  I felt like I had no time.  There was so much I needed to say to him to comfort him to love him, but he had to go.

    I asked Will to pray over John, and as I held John’s hand, Will prayed.  We then left the room, stood in the hall and waited for his bed to be rolled down the hall.  Finally, he came out – and ECHMO followed.

    I remember watching John go right as I went left to the surgery waiting room.  And I remember feeling closer to my Heavenly Father than I had ever felt before and than I have ever felt since.

    Surrender.  That was my only choice.  In most prayers of my past I felt like there was an element of responsibility or control that I had.  I could try harder, make better decisions, work more at it, and then God would help me.  But with this prayer, to save John’s life, there was absolutely nothing I could do.

    I laid John down at Jesus’s feet that night – again – after laying him down the week before when he got so sick. I knew God may take John from me.  I knew John may be disabled for life.  I knew.  And yet the only thing I could do was lay him down – give him to Jesus – and ask for Him to hear my prayer and answer it.

    You would think that I would feel out-of-control, frantic, fearful that’s God’s will was not my own.  But I wasn’t.  I knew that God’s will was perfect – no matter what happened.

    And in those moments I experienced divine peace.  The peace that the Bible describes, but I had never experienced.  The peace that transcends all understanding (Philippians 4:7).  And, wow, did it transcend understanding. 

    So tonight, six months later, I praise my Heavenly Father, whom I have the awesome privilege of knowing as a person who talks to me daily, and I thank Him for each extra day with my precious husband, John, that He has blessed me with, and for allowing me to experience His presence in a way that I never had before so that I can be a witness to the reality of the Cross available to every person on earth.

    Happy 6 Month Birthday, John!  You are one of God’s many miracles! 

  • Peace

    This, the second week of Advent, we meditate on Jesus as the Prince of Peace.
    I often think about what is the one, most important thing that I have learned most over the past several months.  What do I wish I could share with everyone I meet and have them truly understand it and experience it the way I have?  What does my heart ache for others to know about Jesus?  It has to be that He is the Prince of Peace.
    “Rejoice in the Lord always, I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all.  The Lord in near.  Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:4-7

    I remember being confused in times past by “the peace of God which transcends all understanding” because I did not feel that peace.  I was constantly anxious about my future, my wants, my hopes, my dreams.  I continually prayed that God would give me this kind of peace.

    And then he did.  But not until after I surrendered to Him.
    It was through the surrendering that led me to be capable of experiencing His peace, and it was the circumstances He allowed that led me to experience it.  It certainly is the peace that has no understanding, no basis, no logic, no formula because it is supernatural.  It is from God himself living within me and me surrendering to that Life.
    His peace is amazing.  It allows you to wake up each morning not knowing what the sunset will bring and have hope that no matter what you will be perfectly fine in Him.
    I wish I could say that every one of my days is like some of those that I have experienced over the past several months, but they have not been.  Each day is a new challenge to surrender.  And then, only then, does the peace come.