Ever wonder what would happen to the world if every woman who is genuinely sick stopped functioning and just took care of herself?
It’s a staggering thought.
All of us know them. They’re in pain. Sometimes horribly so. Have trouble walking. Trouble working. Or they are just exhausted all the time with never enough time to sleep — or sleep accomplished, but no rest. Tired going to bed. Tired waking up.
Black Women and the Cost of Ignoring Pain
That describes the days of Fort Mill, South Carolina, resident Karla Reid before she finally had no choice but to go to the hospital for help.
A stroke earlier this year ended up landing her in the ER, from which she was hurriedly moved to the cardiac ICU. Tests and more tests. Exams and more exams. Questions and more questions. Followed by more tests, exams, and questions. Did I mention she just happened to go to a premier transplant center in the world? And that she emerged six weeks later with a new heart and a new kidney.
READ MORE: Eight Black Americans Tell Us About Getting a Transplant
One of her greatest joys had been the sight of Jayme Dream, her 2-year-old granddaughter, cheering her up as she attempted a staircase — 16 steps that took a full 60 minutes to climb right after surgery. Now she easily does them two months later in about seven minutes.
Another is the complement of friends, her team, that served alongside her bed as often as they could, that took copious notes as the medics explained procedures, medications, and outcomes. They prayed with and for her. They laughed with her. They celebrated for her. Especially at times when she was too medicated to know what was going on. They shopped for food, they cooked meals, they fortified the home team, and they recently had Friendsgiving to seal the deal.
With a new heart and a new kidney, what does Christmas feel like, I asked her. She couldn’t even start with that question because she flashed back to the one posed to her about her birthday last January. She easily pushed it aside since it wasn’t a landmark year. She never could have imagined what 2025 would bring, and vows never to disregard any day, much less a birthday.
It was the swollen legs and feet that first captured her attention and that of her coworkers in January.
“I’d walk from my chair to the corner, something I did all the time, but I was sounding like I was having an asthma attack,” Reid says. “My coworker actually asked if that hard breathing sound was coming from me and told me I needed to go to the hospital. Right then. And I began the drive, but wasn’t sure where to go, and called my PC’s office. They told me to pull over and call 911,” which she did.
Redi was in the hospital for a week while they tried to figure out the source of the fluid that was collecting in her lungs. She returned to work with medication and was OK until April.
“I left work to go to cardio rehab on April 14. The traffic was really busy, and before I knew it, my car was moving on the road without my assistance, and I was wondering what was going on,” she says. Reid ended up in an unfamiliar area. “The car drives up over the curb and hits the gate. Between the gate and me is a pool. I hear this lady say, ‘I’m gonna call 911.’”
The next thing she saw was a fire truck and paramedics. She heard them speaking as they loaded her into the ambulance, but it sounded like the adults in a Peanuts cartoon: blah, blah, blah. When she realized she couldn’t speak, she remembered one of her signature verses, “Be still and know that I am God.”
And then the needles, the IVs, and a great appreciation that the initial medicine had attacked a blood clot, so she didn’t have to have brain surgery. Then there was the flurry to find out her medication history because the goal is always to know the cause of the stroke.
She recovered from the stroke and returned to work, until July. In fact, it was July 15 when her doctor told her she would need a heart and kidney transplant. The heart transplant happened on Aug. 23, and the next day, the kidney. And on Sept. 24, she came home.
Life After a Heart and Kidney Transplant
Ultimately, Reid had the realization that a new heart and a new kidney make for a new manifestation of herself.
New feelings. New ways of seeing the world.
And back to my original question, “What do the holidays look like with a new heart and kidney?”
Well, there’s Jayme Dream, who takes a green jelly bean, her “meds,” whenever her grandmother takes medicine. There’s her trustworthy team of friends who still help her manage the details of her new life. Members of that team include daughters Jayla and Jewel, and her son, Jeremiah, who’s finishing 12th grade.
“Whatever I’m supposed to learn, I’ll learn so I can help someone else, and there is the challenge of short-term memory loss. But the most important thing is the knowledge that God did it. We’ve got T-shirts that say God did it!,” Reid says.
”That is the only way we make sure my children and everybody give him praise. And he did it excellently.”