Page 5 of The Last Kiss

“Another heart? What happens? Do you go to the supermarket and pick one up off the shelf?”

Dr Francis smiles wanly at my attempt at saving the moment from becoming the single most depressing of my life.

“No, we put you in the database. I’m afraid it’s a list, like most things.”

“A list of people waiting for hearts?” I mean, I guess that makes sense, right? I can’t be the only poor bitch with a dodgy ticker.

“And it comes down to things like blood type, tissue type,” he carries on, spewing more words in my direction my brain can’t cope with. “Later, not right now, we would have you on medication so should a match come up, your body would be receptive to the new organ. The body is an amazing machine, but unfortunately it means it will spend the rest of your living days trying to reject an organ that doesn’t belong to you.”

“And… And…” It’s almost heinous to think about it. “The heart is kept alive until it is put into my body?”

He nods, that sympathetic frown back on his face. “Julianna, all of this can be discussed. I will refer you to Mr Simmonds at the transplant team. He’s amazing and I know if anyone can help you, he will.”

“But you can’t anymore,” I faintly whisper.

“Julianna. You are in the second stages of heart failure. At the end of the second.”

“And how many stages are we talking?”

“Four. You know this. We discussed it way back at the beginning when the issues were found.”

I nod, up and down. Up and down. “Four stages, right.”

“The third and fourth stage run together, and no one knows how long each stage will last.”

I don’t move. I’m carved from stone.

“What will it feel like?”

Dr Francis meets my eye. “You want to know what the symptoms of total heart failure will be like?”

I nod. Up and down. Up and down.

“It will be much like you’ve been feeling for the last two years.”

Well, that’s not too bad. My smile grows.

“But worse,” he adds before I get a chance to really scrunch my cheeks. “Eventually, your body will become weaker and weaker. If your heart, which is the pump for the entire nervous system, the entire body, can’t move enough blood, exhaustion will become the norm. Your other organs will fail as they are starved of the oxygen they need from the blood that your heart can no longer pump.”

See, no icing on this cake. Plain stale sponge of reality.

Twenty-nine years old and my body is going to stop working before I hit thirty.

If that ain’t a punch in the vagina of life I don’t know what is.

“Julianna, I’m sorry. As a heart specialist there is nothing worse than when you realise you can’t save someone.”

Oh, well, let’s make it all about you.

“It’s okay. I guess you can’t save them all.”

“I like to try.”

“So, what happens now?”

He’s going to make me leave this office. I’m going to have to walk outside with a death sentence hanging over me. A flashing beacon that will tell everyone that I’m different, that my time is up.

“I’ll put you on Dr Simmonds list; his secretary will call you. And I’ll see you next week so we can discuss renewing your medication.”