What a night! As my previous post said, Patrick received a call from a doctor saying, “Mr. Holland, we have your heart.”
First and foremost, this is not Patrick’s heart. It’s borrowed. Perhaps in time it will become “his”. But for now it belongs to a 30 year old man who at this moment is laying in a hospital bed at UW, on life support. This man, who we don’t know at all, is now named Steve. We may never know his true name. We may never know his family.
But he needed a name because he might become the most important person to play a part in Patrick’s life, and he deserved more than “the patient.”
As I am writing this we are not even 100% certain Steve’s family has decided to take him off life support. They had said noon on the 23rd. I can’t imagine naming a time and sticking to that type of schedule. I wouldn’t blame them one bit if they needed more time, or if they decided not to do it at all. That is a horrible position to be put in. The potential goodbyes must be tearing Steve’s family apart.
If they do, though… And if the potential connections between Patrick and Steve’s heart prove perfectly compatible…
Patrick may be receiving a new heart later today.
I wanted to be there. I made plans to be there. At one point this evening I even thought it would be possible to be there before the surgery. That Steve was still on life support gave Patrick a little bit of extra time to get to the hospital, and for me to get a ticket following him there.
But the only viable flight for our family was at 4:25pm. Patrick’s surgery would be well underway by then.
It didn’t matter. I bought the ticket.
And two minutes later I was notified the flight had been canceled.
As of right now I have been on hold with Alaska Air for three hours and eleven minutes. It is nearly 1:30am. I refuse to hang up.
All seemed well with Patrick’s ticket so we proceeded as planned, picking up his brother and heading to the airport at 11:00pm with all four kids. What followed was nearly an hour of desperation wherein we believed his flight was canceled and we would miss out on this opportunity.
I posted to Facebook. I prayed. I asked for prayer. I messaged furiously with various people. One friend graciously attempted a different avenue to buy a ticket for me, only to be thwarted at every turn.
The 3 year old had fallen asleep so I bought myself and the other three kids Taco Bell. Mine sat cold as I messaged and researched and switched tabs on my phone with lightning speed.
I had my credit card information put in for two refundable one-way tickets on a Delta flight, $1,600 worth, when Patrick called and said, “She got us on a flight but we’re boarding now. I love you.”
Was that… our dreams coming true? Or a nightmare?
I’m trying to wrap my brain around the impending logistical shitshow. All the pieces are falling into place, so I suppose the shitshow is just in my mind. The kids want to know how long I’ll be gone. When I’ll be coming home. When Dad will be coming home. I want to know all of those things, too.
I will likely be updating fairly often if things play out the way we hope they will. Please, PLEASE keep Steve’s family and him in your thoughts and prayers.
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