The Salvation Army - Northampton East

I was born in 1974 with a congenital heart defect, and in my early years I was fortunately encouraged to do as many normal things as I was able, despite the fact that I would become very blue and breathless, this would cause much concern to others on occasions. I did P.E at school and as long as I was able to stop whenever I needed to there was not really a problem although others normally wanted me to stop before I wanted to. I attended swimming lessons, gymnastics, and during this time I attended The Salvation Army with my family, becoming a Junior Soldier, Singing Company member and Corps Cadet. Unfortunately, and for probably quite good reason I was never allowed to learn to play an instrument. My younger sister Hayley did much the same things only normally better because she had far more energy.

My condition was regularly monitored at the local hospital and The Royal Brompton in London but when I was sixteen I developed an abscess on my brain causing a cerebral abscess due to my poor circulation and I remember drifting in and out of consciousness whilst being taken to Oxford by ambulance, for emergency surgery, late one Saturday night, the same day as the Army garden Party, which my parents had been organising whilst I was left at home with my grandmother because I was ill, although no one realised what was wrong at that time. It was quite a hectic day for my family and I had a whole Intensive Care Unit to myself, I must have made quite an impact.

I joined the Songster Brigade at Northampton East when I was 19 and thoroughly enjoyed this avenue of service. Often it was difficult to breathe while singing. But my condition continued to deteriorate and I was accepted onto the waiting list for a heart and lung transplant, not such an easy process as it sounds, in October 1994. I managed to work for 6 years on a government training scheme, run by a fellow Salvationist, gradually reducing my hours until I had to stop working altogether in March 2000. During May 2001 I began to feel really unwell and was admitted to my local hospital, again on a Sunday after my local corps had held a large open air in a local park, which I had managed to attend in my wheelchair. I was in hospital for 4 weeks, during which time I was taken by ambulance to Harefield Hospital for urgent reassessment, and it was decided that a needed an urgent transplant, as soon as compatible organs became available.

Because this was a long way from home it was decided that instead of staying there for an indefinite period of time I would be better off at home with the reduced risk of me acquiring an infection, and I eventually got home with lots of support and a carer to come and get me up, washed and dressed, prepare my lunch etc. quite frustrating for someone who is stubbornly independent, even though I knew that I was very ill and had been told not to do anything.

Then on June 25, at 7.40 p.m. on our way home from visiting my sister who had been discharged from hospital following her first ever asthma attack, the mobile phone rang and it was the Transplant Co-ordinator at Harefield to say that they may have found some suitable organs for me if I would like to "pop down" there. I was speechless, after waiting for so long we initially thought it was someone's idea of a joke, but we were assured that it was for real, and numerous other feelings took over, excitement, fear, and it was a definite challenge to my faith. It was a very long night, we arrived at Harefield at 9.15p.m. and I was seen by a Doctor, who explained the risks of the surgery, and asked if I would consent to heart valves being used for another patient, what a bonus that I could also become a donor. I was due for theatre at 10.00p.m. but after a few delays I eventually got to theatre at 6.45a.m. by which time we were all convinced that we were on our way home, as something was not suitable, and the statistics show that 1 in 3 transplants do not go ahead on the first occasion. Suddenly after all of that waiting there was a surge of activity, gowns to wear, drugs to take and my family literally ran with me to the operating theatre, where we were allowed 2 minutes together. What do you say in that time.

The next thing that I vaguely recall is several days later on the Intensive Care Unit, as I was deliberately kept asleep because the doctors knew that I would have to return to the operating theatre in 2 or 3 days, and I was on ITU for 5 weeks of frustration and very hard work, with me unable to breath without the ventilator, things going not according to plan, and having physio to help me to start learning to walk again. At least I managed to see the final matches of Wimbledon with a television with poor reception on I.T.U. due to the excess of electrical equipment. You don't appreciate the frustration of not being able to talk due to the ventilator, and being so desperate for a drink until you've experienced it for yourself, the things that we all take for granted.

I then went to the ward for 8 weeks, with intensive physio to help me to walk, re-learn stairs and breathe correctly, something which I had never been able to do before. It was very hard work for all of us and it was so worth it now that I am able to do things that I have never been able to do before, and it is only 6 months since my transplant. I have bought myself an exercise bike and treadmill and I am determined to get as fit as possible and to enjoy life to the full, whilst hopefully being a good advertisement for this type of miraculous surgery which has totally transformed my life.

I would like to thank everyone for their cards, letters, continued support and prayers. We as a family frequently think of the donor family, and pray that they will be able to find some comfort in knowing that their decision, in their own personal grief, has helped me to find a life that I could only have dreamed of before. Whoever they are and wherever they are, a BIG Thank you!

In closing could I leave you with the words of my favourite song, SOMEONE CARES.

Do you sometimes feel that no one truly knows you,
And that no one understands or really cares?
Through his people, God himself is close beside you,
And through them he plans to answer all your prayers.

Someone cares, someone cares,
Someone knows your deepest need, your burden shares:
Someone cares, someone cares,
God himself will hear the whisper of your prayers.

Ours is not a distant God, remote, unfeeling,
Who is careless of our loneliness and pain,
Through the ministry of men he gives his healing,
In their dedicated hands brings hope again.

Throughout all the uncertainty of those years God’s Love to me never stopped. I pray that with my "New Life" I may be able to tell others and bring them into a knowledge of His Love.

Testimony

My Testimony - Natasha Rogers