“My name is Caroline and I have a heart transplant.” It was my answer to the question my professor had asked- “State your name and one cool fact about yourself for the class”. It was the first time I sat in a college classroom in over three years. I could feel my cheeks flushing pink when it came time for me to answer.
I am used to making speeches for crowds of adults, for other disabled people, and regularly speaking to at least one healthcare professional a week. But when I went back to college as someone who had beaten cancer with a port still in my chest, as a heart transplant recipient, and as a disabled person in a colorful wheelchair, I had no idea how new people my own age would receive me. I remember telling myself before the first day of school that I would not bring up all of the “complicated” stuff until people got to know me. I wanted to have an opportunity for people to see me, and not just see what I’ve been through.
There are so many other interesting things about myself, but I found myself saying “I have a heart transplant” as my “cool fact”. It was a split-second decision, I’ll admit that. I didn’t know why I chose that until later when it hit me- if I was going to truly start fresh, I didn’t want to hide a single part of me. No feeding into that ‘be the cool mysterious girl movie trope’ type (because what does that even mean). I am a very out there person; I find it near impossible to shrink to hide who I truly am. Though when I looked around the room after my statement, I saw the pairs of students sitting together, and in realizing that I sat alone, I worried that I had made a mistake.
At the college I attend, we have an accessibility counselor, who told me a few weeks into school about a group of students who were trying to start a Disabled Students
Union on campus. I went to the first meeting as Secretary of the union, again not knowing how I would be received. I was greeted by the most welcoming group of people who were so unashamed of being themselves. I immediately felt safe.
We all had such different disabilities, but we all bonded over commonalities like medications we had been on and our experiences of our lives being so intertwined with hospital stays and doctors. We ranted over viewpoints and labels we hated being imposed on us. They became the first college friends I made in nearly four years. I left each meeting feeling closer and closer to the person I always wanted to be after my transplant- shameless and loudly proud.
Over time, I became more involved with things like the Student Government and the Student Diversity Council. Each time I spoke in front of my peers, my cheeks got less pink and my voice shook less. My outfits got more and more colorful, I wore my blue heart-shaped glasses to class often, and my confidence in not only my transplant life soared, but also within my own voice. I wasn’t so afraid anymore. I noticed more of my peers would complement my wheelchair wheel colors that I would change out weekly, and it became easier to connect with strangers. By the time April rolled around, I decided I wanted to do something kind of bold.
April is National Donate Life Month, and I wanted to bring it to my campus. I organized a card drive, where cards would be decorated by students and sent to a hospital for transplant patients and donor families. I also decided it was time to put my voice to use. I enlisted the help of a close friend who has a heart transplant and a faculty member (who later also became a friend) that had donated a kidney to a stranger, to speak in front of students with me. To my surprise, students showed up with genuine curiosity; the event was a success. I felt so incredibly proud.
When I went back to school, I feared I would not make a single friend. That no one would care about transplant life. I was so thankful to find that people did care. I was not only accepted by my peers with open arms, but I made some of the best friends I
could ever ask for. My new friends make me transplant-friendly ice cubes in cute little shapes and always check my diet requirements before giving me food they made. It’s so simple, but it means more to me than they’ll ever know. My lifelong protector and best friend, Cassidy, would tell you that she was right- she knew the right people would find me. I even found some self-acceptance along the way. Next year, I will serve as the President of the Disabled Students Union, being voted in by my peers. I have so many plans on how to bring organ donation and disability awareness onto campus, knowing there are wonderful people who will care about it.
The entire experience of going back to college as a transplant recipient has taught me a few things. What I’ve been through is such a big part of me and there’s no shame in that. Doing it scared, even if your cheeks flush and your voice shakes, is something to be proud of. That self-acceptance is right around the corner if you stop shrinking yourself to fit a self-imposed limitation. But the biggest lesson of all? If you live in truth, if you live as who you truly are, the right people and the right path will always find you.
