For five years—ages 18 to 23—I managed congestive heart failure. Medications, specialist appointments, lifestyle changes, exploring every option available. I told myself I would be alright, but deep down, I knew things were getting worse. My body was exhausted. I felt hopeless while struggling through the daily realities of heart failure. The idea of needing an organ transplant felt overwhelming—too big, too final, too terrifying to face. So I kept searching. I hoped things might improve with stem cell therapy. I was scared. What if the surgery failed? What if I didn’t find a donor in time? What would recovery even look like? I worried about the toll on my family, the financial weight, and the uncertainty of life after transplant. But slowly, I came to understand that waiting was its own risk. Staying in survival mode wasn’t truly living. And when things got worse, I had to be brave. I listened to the doctors. I pushed through the discomfort, the fear, the unknowns. The journey hasn’t been easy. There were setbacks, sleepless nights, and moments of deep uncertainty. But there was also clarity, connection, and incredible support. I learned to advocate for myself, to lean on others, and—slowly—to trust my body again. I found strength I didn’t know I had. And when the day finally came—the surgery, the healing, the second chance—I was terrified… but I was ready. Now, I’ve rebuilt life with new energy, deeper perspective, and lasting gratitude. If you’re facing the possibility of a transplant—or navigating the emotional weight of that decision—you are not alone. I’ve been there. Let’s talk about your journey and what healing could look like for you.