A Brief History Of Me

Hello Readers!

Most people reading this will have probably followed me here from Twitter, where I have somehow amassed a brilliant troupe of followers! So this first blog is basically going to introduce me in a more in depth way, give an insight into my history, and a look at what running means to me! So let's go!!

My heart transplant is obviously a big part of my life, so i'll start here, and how I came to need a heart transplant!

When I was born, it was pretty obvious I was going to be trouble, I wasn't screaming and I was a strange shade of blue, I was diagnosed with Tetralogy of Fallot , in simple terms, oxygenated and non-oxygenated blood were mixing in the heart, and then being pumped around my body.
At 9 months old I underwent my first surgery, a Waterman Shunt. They took arteries from my right arm and used them to 'fix' the defects in my heart. This was a stop-gap surgery, carried out purely to give me a chance to grow a bit and become strong enough for further, more complex surgery.
At 2 years old I went under the knife for a 'full fix' to complete repairs to the heart and give me a normal lease of life. The surgery was initially successful, but 6/7 days later my natural pacemaker stopped working, deemed to be from the surgery. So I went under the knife again that week and had an Artificial Pacemaker fitted.
Surprisingly I was pretty well for 5 years! growing and developing normally as a child should. Just before my 8th birthday, on a routine hospital check up, the pacemaker needed replaced. It is effectively a battery, and it was out of juice! So the next day they fitted me a new pacemaker and I was good to go!

All Going Wrong

Shortly after my 9th birthday, it became apparent that things weren't quite right. I had no energy, very little appetite and basically wasn't myself. After a particularly lacklustre summer holiday my parents took me to our GP, who had me admitted to the local hospital. After 3 days in hospital, they decided nothing was wrong, perhaps I had a virus.
Not trusting the diagnosis, my parents took me to The Freeman Hospital in Newcastle (where all my surgeries took place) I was immediately poked, prodded and x-rayed, and then the bad news came.
My heart was 3 times larger than it should have been, and was operating at about 3% (pro athletes run at about 40% - its an odd measurement!) what they didn't know, was why.
They assumed that the pacemaker had malfunctioned, and determined it was its proximity to my heart. That the signals had somehow become 'confused' and gone awry! I underwent another pacemaker replacement, and it was placed in the now common place of beneath the skin in the front of the left shoulder.
Sadly the replacement didn't solve any problems, my heart was done, I was dying.

Transplant

The choice to undergo a heart transplant was mine. The Dr's told me the facts, I had less than 12 months without it, and possibly an extra 5-8 years if I had one. The choice was simple, and in my head, it was just another surgery! So I was assessed and placed at the top of the transplant list, I was the worst case on the list, so I would get first dibs on any heart that became available.
1 week later the phone rang - they had a viable heart. Cue mad panic and lots of tears! An ambulance arrived and off we shot on the 90 mile journey to the hospital. On the way there however, the call came in that the heart had died on route, and they wouldn't be able to restart it.
Another 6 weeks passed and then the phone rang again, they had another viable heart. We made it to the hospital and started the pre op routine. By midnight I was being wheeled into the theatre, very drowsy, but still awake.
8 hours later I woke up in intensive care, the op was a success and the heart had restarted first time. I was the 21st child recipient in the UK

A massive amount of thanks goes to the donor family, the donor was only 12 years old and I wouldn't even know how to imagine how harrowing that would be, to then allow the organs to be used for transplantation defies understanding, all I know is that I am eternally grateful to them. (In all, 8 people received organs from this donor - truly amazing)

And Now?
Fast forward almost 21 years to now, and its 2012! The 5-8 years I might have got from the transplant have turned into something more than anyone at the time would have thought possible! Obviously I am not the longest post op transplant recipient, there are people who are almost 30 years post transplant but it still feels pretty good to be this far out!
Pretty much since my transplant i've tried to live a life that would hopefully make my donor and his family proud that I was the recipient. Nowadays, I use my running to help with that!

I started running properly in April 2011, 7.5 miles (bearing in mind I ran maybe 2 miles once a month before hand!) over 3 local mountains. It took me about 4 hours, I was covered in cuts and bruises from slips and falls on the trails, I was caked in mud, ridiculously dehydrated and fairly peckish! I had no idea what I was doing! That same night I experienced DOMS for the first time in my entire life! Every time I sat down, I struggled to stand up again! And staircases were a massive no-no!

So that's a fair old chunk of what makes my internal engine tick! In future blogs i will delve into my running more, and how living with a transplant affects me and what i've done since that night in 1992...


Questions welcome
Follow me on Twitter @xplantrunner

Thanks for reading!