Mike Cohen

During the sixteen years since I had cancer, the first couple years I had a lot of resentment towards the concept of cancer. Almost similar to a resentment or somewhat of a superstition. Whenever I would see any pink ribbons, LIVESTRONG bracelets, anything mentioning “cancer”, I would shudder. I’d have severe internal PTSD about memories from that period of my life. At that point in my life, after two and half years of chemotherapy, I had just begun to put myself back together again. It would make sense for me to feel some level of something towards a disease that almost ended my life. At least from my current perspective, I think it makes sense.

Where I am now, I don’t have that same perspective towards my most recent ailments; experiencing a severe heart attack at 32 years old, due to a blood clot caused by the two and half years of chemotherapy I had earlier in my life. Then eventually being in the position to receive a heart transplant. The concept of hearts is something that is constantly on my mind, and consistently a part of my life. While, I am not a big fan of “Hallmark holidays”, whenever I see anything having a heart on it, I smile.

It’s probably due to how often the word and concept of heart has been in my life. Maybe it’s because of my two open heart surgeries, living with an LVAD (Left Ventricle Assist Device) to eventually be on the path, to receiving a third chance at life. Being beyond grateful to have had the opportunity, to meet my heart donor’s family and pay my in person respect, to his burial site.

I no longer believe in superstitions, I don’t cringe when I see the word cancer. I beat cancer. I don’t have any reason to feel inferior. I’m proud to be a survivor of my health issues and throughout all of this, I always was inspired and motivated by my heart. I’m also proud to be celebrating World Heart Day in honor of James (my heart donor).

Just finished my go-to daily breakfast of blueberry pancakes and turkey sausage. For breakfast dessert, I had a couple pieces of chocolate chip cookie cake from my birthday party yesterday. As I’m enjoying the second slice of cookie, I look around the room and it is pretty stocked with remnants of birthday celebrating. I smile. I just remember how hard I was laughing playing Mario Kart and Goldeneye with a couple of my best friends. I am definitely in the beginning of a birthday hangover.

I enjoy this breakfast thoroughly, knowing that it may be my last before my heart comes. Or it may be the last before I get discharged, and likely never have this same breakfast again. I mean I’ve had it pretty much every day that I’ve been admitted to the hospital. You should be able to see why I would never want to have it again, if I am able to cook my own breakfast, once I get home.

I disconnect from the wall power and connect to batteries. I put both batteries in my Herschel dob kit, which has acted as my new battery holder, for as long as I’ve been in the hospital for this stay. At some point it should return to its initial intended job of holding toiletries and my toothbrush. As of the moment it is just another momentary glimpse of some what of a normal life.

I slip on the new Ugg slippers that Missy got for my birthday, and smile. She has amazing taste in slippers. I put my AirPods on (one less cord) and turn Spotify onto my favorite playlist. Consisting of Explosions in the sky and The Mattson 2, to name a few. I walk out of my room and close the door behind me.

As I walk I am walking past the first nurse station on my right, I say hi to whoever is sitting there. I just walk. Sometimes as I walk, the doors of other patients’ rooms are open. I try not to peek inside. Sometimes I can see that these patients are really struggling. The faces are just blank. They have a bunch of tubes and cords connected and definitely void of inspiration, of happiness. I truly find myself wanting to walk in the room and sit down with them.

I stop myself because I am extremely concerned with getting sick right now, especially being on the heart transplant list in the highest position. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize receiving that call, if I contact an illness or a flu.

I smile. I try to make eye contact. I hope with them seeing me walk around the floor, they are inspired or motivated to walk whenever they can.

I continue walking. I see all of these very sick, in bad situation patients and I just can’t stop being grateful for how healthy I am. Some of you may read that and think I’m crazy to say that. I am actually healthy. My heart is the only part of my body that has failed and is not in good condition. If it wasn’t for me having 2.5 years of chemo, years and years ago, I would’ve never had all of these heart issues. I constantly recognize this gift and live with constant positivity. Constant gratification. Constant inspiration and motivation. Just because my heart has failed doesn’t mean the rest of me has. Whenever I get the heart, I will recognize my second chance at life and just live exactly how I do now.

The most constant concept that I think about in my head, that keeps me grounded and fighting for this life and those in my life is, that it could be worse.