| Still Ticking After Twenty Years Next year, Bruce Weir will celebrate his 20th anniversary. Not his wedding anniversary, although July 11, 1988, is a date equally dear to his heart—literally. On that muggy summer day, Bruce received a heart transplant. "Without the transplant, I would've been dead 19 years ago," says the Westlake resident. Instead, the 70-year-old has watched five grandchildren grow up and became a great-grandfather. "One of my first official duties when I got out of the hospital after the transplant was to give my daughter away at her wedding—and write a big check!" says Bruce. His saga began in the spring of 1988, when Bruce assumed he was a healthy 51-year-old. "In March, I had a little ticklish cough that wouldn't go away," he says. "Then I realized I was getting short of breath. It got to the point where I couldn't walk 30 feet without stopping to catch my breath." Bruce's symptoms got worse, and he was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy in June. His heart had become enlarged and weakened, probably as the result of two previous silent heart attacks that medical tests later revealed. Bruce recalls Dr. Robert Hobbs, a cardiologist at the Cleveland Clinic, telling him, "We know what you've got, but we can't treat it. You need a heart transplant, or you'll be dead by Christmas." Adds Bruce, "None of us knew I didn't have six months—or even six weeks." Initially, Bruce was leery of transplantation: He felt terrible, but what would his quality of life be like afterward? While he lay sick in the hospital, several heart transplant recipients visited him and shared their stories. When one of them mentioned he was headed to the golf course to play a round, Bruce was sold on transplantation. He was placed on the organ waiting list on June 28. Within a couple weeks, his condition deteriorated. "My heart was getting weaker, and the doctors thought I might not make it," he says. Bruce suffered several bouts of cardiac arrest. Once, he remembers, "I awakened in total blackness, heard a loud explosion like a cannon went off and saw a flash of light." Doctors had shocked his heart with a defibrillator to restore its pumping. | ![]() ![]() |
| On July 11, Bruce received a donor heart. He woke up two days later. "I realized my hands were warm as toast and not clammy like they had been," he says. "I took a deep breath and I didn't cough, which hadn't happened for months." Within 48 hours of his operation, Bruce already felt much better than he had in weeks. Today, Bruce appreciates his day-to-day activities, saying, "My life is just like it would've been if I had never gotten sick." But he doesn't forget for a moment the gift he's been given. He volunteers with LifeBanc, northeast Ohio's tissue recovery and organ procurement agency, talking to groups about the importance of organ donation. He also joined The Mended Hearts, Inc., a nonprofit organization that gives hope to patients with heart disease. Just as heart recipients visited him in the hospital, he now talks to patients awaiting transplantation. But Bruce's story doesn't end there. In an odd twist of fate, he's become acquainted with the family of his heart donor. While details about donors are kept confidential today, when Bruce had his transplant he received limited information: He learned his donor was a 23-year-old woman from Barberton who died from a brain tumor. Months after his transplant, Bruce became curious about the woman. He perused obituaries from a local newspaper and found a one-page article about a spirited woman who died the day he received his transplant. She was a graduate of Hiram College enrolled in a masters degree program in education set to begin that fall at the University of Akron. As Bruce read the article, he learned more about Karen Gainer, whose heart he received. "She was looking forward to going back to school and was just so happy," says Karen's mother, Edna Gainer, about her daughter in the summer of 1988. Then the Edna's life turned upside down within one week. Eight days before her death, Karen got a headache. It became progressively worse during the week, and she visited her family doctor and the local emergency room. Doctors treated her for migraines, but by July 9 Karen was in excruciating pain and admitted to the hospital. The following morning, she had a seizure, stopped breathing and was placed on ventilator support. A CAT scan revealed a massive inoperable brain tumor. Karen would not survive. That afternoon, a nurse talked to Edna, her husband and Karen's siblings about organ donation. "The nurse said to us, 'Karen's organs are healthy. She has such a good, strong heart. Would you consider organ donation?'" recalls Edna. "All of us at the same time, without conferring with each other, said, 'Yes, that's what Karen would want.'" Karen was pronounced dead shortly after midnight on July 11. She donated her heart, liver, kidneys and corneas. "Karen was treated with respect and dignity [as a donor]. As a mother, that meant so much to me," says Edna. "We were all treated so well by the nurses, the doctors and LifeBanc." Perhaps that's why Edna agreed to speak to a group about organ donation for LifeBanc just a few months after Karen's death. Reluctant at first, she realized the impact her daughter's story could have on others. For nearly 20 years, she's continued as a volunteer speaker—just like Bruce. And that's how the two eventually met. Bruce and Edna appeared separately on a television news segment on organ donation. When Bruce saw the broadcast, he realized Edna was Karen's mother. He hesitantly called the family. That evening, he talked for hours on the phone with Edna and Karen's sister. Since then, they've met several times: Edna and her husband even attended one of Bruce's birthday parties. "I couldn't have picked anyone better to have Karen's heart," says Edna. "The fact that Karen died is still painful to this day, but it helps so much to know she was an organ donor." Edna gave Bruce a framed photograph of Karen, which he displays on his fireplace mantle. Several times a year, he takes it with him when he speaks on behalf of LifeBanc. "I tell my story, then set the picture of Karen on the table in front of me," says Bruce. "I say, 'That's my hero. She saved my life and five other lives at the same time.'" Choking back tears, he emphasizes, "Karen saved my life... . She saved my life." Currently, nearly 100,000 men, women and children in the United States and thousands in Ohio are waiting for a life-saving transplant. You can become a registered organ donor right now or by saying “yes” when renewing your driver license or state ID at the BMV. |
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