I lay in my hospital bed in room 224 in the CVICU at Fairfax Hospital. I turn my head to the left and see a young blonde woman pass my room. “She must have cystic fibrosis,” I think. There are not many people under 50 in the cardiovascular ICU, or any pulmonary floor for that matter. And when there are, my first thought is always CF. She has a trac in her neck with a tube tracing back to a ventilator pushed by a respiratory therapist. My next thought, “She must also have had a lung transplant.” Then she walks around again, and again, and again. Each time she passes, before I knew it, she is back again. I look to my mom & tears start to run down the side of my face. “I want to be her. I want to be able to walk the halls with my ventilator,” I mouth, unable to speak because of intubation. I want to be walking so badly. I want to be able to move so badly. At that moment, I want to be anywhere except where I am. “You will be, Jackie. I promise, you will be,” my mom responds, holding back tears herself. Anya passes my room day after day, multiple times a day. Dr. Brown comes in during her usual rounds and I write to her in a notebook, “I want to be her. The blonde woman who walks past my room.” Unable to say much, Dr. Brown simply replies, “She is on a different journey than you.” But she takes note.
Later that afternoon, a woman from the hallway hands my mom a note. The corner has been ripped from a sheet of paper, on it said www.anyasstory.com. Curious, I immediately ask my mom to get my phone. With hands barely strong enough to hold it, I go to the web address. I read Anya’s story. I find out that she had a transplant in 2008. That she had won 2nd place at the transplant olympic games in the 100m dash. She had an amazing husband and an extremely supportive family. All of this she shares with us, people she doesn’t even know. I also find out that her body rejected the first set of lungs she received and she went through a second transplant in 2014. So I am right, she did have a transplant, but that’s not why she is in the hospital this time. Her body is also rejecting the 2nd set of lungs and she has developed an infection. Some people would feel defeated. But from what I witness, not Anya. I’d never met her and I could tell she was more determined than ever just by the way she passes my hospital room every day. One day, on the ventilator, she walks a mile around the CVICU. That is over 15 laps. Amazing.
Anya’s mom comes by my room just to check in and see how I am doing. This becomes a regular occurrence along with Anya’s walks around the CVICU & past my room. Except now Anya smiles & waves. We are friends. We could never actually meet in person because of cystic fibrosis and because of the bugs we each might cary. But we are friends. People with CF, they just get each other. It’s almost like an immediate bond is made when you find out someone has CF.
That summer I learned a lot watching Anya walk past my room. I learned that everyone is on their own journey. No two people are the same. I learned that it wouldn’t be easy, but I could be walking the halls on my ventilator. And I would be soon. I learned that someone could have the worst possible thing happen to them post transplant, but still have sheer determination. She inspired me before I ever even said “Hi” to her. I wanted to work hard and get through my tough time because I saw Anya walk past my hospital room, fighting CF and fighting rejection. In my mind that’s what inspiration is, someone making you want to be better or do something more. Anya did just that.
Anya lost her battle with CF on September 7, 2017. Anya reminded me of something important. You don’t know what someone is experiencing just from watching them walk the halls past your room. They may appear the strongest of person, but are fighting a battle of their own. Anya also gave me hope. Hope that I would make it through and hope that I would be walking the halls, just like her. Anya and I may not have been close friends, but one thing I know is that I will never forget watching her walk past my room every day.
People with CF, they should never be forgotten for they are some of the strongest and hardest fighters. We know how precious every breath truly is. The ones who lost their lives fighting to breathe should be a reminder that a cure needs to be found. That people with CF & lung transplant shouldn’t be fearful of the word “rejection” because that word shouldn’t even exist in our world. The CF Foundation is leading the fight against CF and recently, CF transplants and rejection. To find out more and donate in honor of Anya Crum Huie please visit http://www.cff.org.