The Monkey Heart Possessor: A Clarification

Monkey Heart Art by Jen

So I didn't realize that I wasn't clear with the explanation about my possession of a monkey heart. If you haven't already read my original post on the subject, click on the link and read.

Go ahead...I'll wait. You will learn some very technical information about my heart issues.

Back?

Ok, great! Now on with further details...

You see, I grew up with two brothers that liked to tell me lies. Lies, lies, lies! And you know why they told me lies? Because I believed them. Gullible. That's me.

You see, CKM informed me when I was small that when they did my surgeries, they put a monkey heart in my chest instead of just fixing the problems at hand. I believed him, but still kind of questioned him because my parents assured me that I had a human heart and not a monkey's heart. Then, that movie came out with Christian Slater and Marisa Tomei, Untamed Heart, and it kind of validated his claim. If Christian Slater could have a monkey heart in that movie, so could I because they wouldn't lie in the movies.

Except it was a lie. Now please don't go feeling sorry for me for being so gullible. I always knew in my monkey heart of hearts that he was pulling my leg, but part of me kind of wanted it to be true - you know, super champion girl with the monkey heart still kickin' it and taking ballet.

So, that is how the whole, "I have a monkey heart" thing started. It has become a joke and when I tell my doctors about it, they don't seem to find it amusing. But I do! I hope you find it funny, too. And I hope you aren't disappointed or think I'm less than cool because I don't actually have a monkey heart.

My monkey heart is my soul - it's what makes me unique. It's my badge of honor, frankly. And it's waaaay more exciting and interesting to call it a monkey heart than a congenital heart defect. Congenital heart defect makes me sound defective. Which I am not, thank you very much.

So, that's the whole scoop, chickens! I AM a monkey heart possessor, sans the actual monkey heart. I have a lot of scars, both physical and emotional from the whole situation, but I am a whole lot stronger of a person because of all my struggles so early in my life. If I could survive that business, I could survive almost anything. And so far, I have proven that theory correct!

xoxo - from the bottom of my monkey heart!

Monkey Heart Possessor

Most everyone who reads this blog knows me, but I thought I would go ahead and explain the whole Monkey Heart talk that goes on in my writing. I have a monkey heart. Really, an actual monkey heart. I was born with a bad ticker and through the amazing world of Dr. Frankenstein and Texas Heart Institute, I was given a monkey's heart. I have provided a picture of my scar just to prove how much my heart is that of a monkey's.

Do you believe me? Of course you don't! Haha! Okay, so you got me. I don't REALLY have a monkey heart but it is pretty fun to try and convince strangers of this phenomenon. I was born with a few congenital heart defects. To be more specific, I was born with an atrial septal defect (ASD), a ventricular septal defect (VSD), and a coacrtation of the aorta. Dr. Denton Cooley (he performed the first successful human heart transplant back in 1968) performed both my surgeries at Texas Heart Institute in Houston, TX. My first surgery took place when I was six weeks old and they closed up the holes when I was two.

My life has consisted of numerous trips to a cardiologist, lots of medical students standing in on my exams and listening to my heart, and dentists refusing to clean my teeth until I have "premedicated" (taking antibiotics so I don't get endocarditis and die).

Speaking of endocarditis, "Don't scratch that mosquito bite! You'll catch endocarditis and die!" I heard this and similar statements from my mother my entire life. Heck, she still says this to me on occasion. It's become somewhat of a joke to me now and I often say, "Don't look at that! You'll get endocarditis and die!" Hahaha! Aren't morbid jokes funny? I think so. I know it makes a lot of people uncomfortable, me joking like that but I choose to believe that if you can't laugh about your condition then you are taking your life WAY too seriously. Everyone has to die sometime and according to my early doctors (before my parents were able to take me to Texas Heart), I'm already on borrowed time.

So, here's to living with a monkey heart and taking lots of antibiotics and making funny jokes about my condition. Laugh, because life is too short to be sad about the cards you have been dealt. And look at it this way - I wasn't blessed with a big bosom and Dr. Cooley just drew on some cleavage for me. Thanks, Dr. C!