Heart recipient meets family who gave her new life

Nov. 4—ELKHART — Sharon Culbreath was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and an enlarged heart at age 31. "I got really sick," she recalled. "I had shortness of breath and my chest felt very heavy at the time so I went to Elkhart General and they diagnosed me with pneumonia." Culbreath, Elkhart, went back three times before heading to Goshen Hospital with a friend, where they finally discovered her enlarged heart and sent her to the cardiovascular unit at Elkhart General. "I thought I was doing really good, but my heart was only working at like 20%," she said. Congestive heart failure or hypertrophic cardiomyopathy is a disease of the heart muscle itself. As a result of the weakened muscle, the heart doesn't effectively pump blood through the rest of the body, and worsens its own condition through lack of physical activity in the heart, enlarging and thickening, in a continual weakening of the heart and by default, the body. It's a hereditary condition caused by the proteins that allow the heart muscle to contract. She and her two sisters all ended up with the diagnosis, and an adult nephew was recently diagnosed. "My doctor had told me that I would probably need a defibrillator," she said. "My heart got a little better. It went up to 35% and so they said now you don't need one." That was in 2001. Fast-forward to 2018 when things started to go downhill again despite maintaining a healthy lifestyle and having no other ailments. In November 2017, she had an echocardiogram done and her doctor informed her that her heart function had again decreased to 30%, and she'd need to go on a defibrillator again. By February 2018, her heart rate was at 217 beats per minute. The defibrillator had saved her life, but only for a short time, going off three times in 2018. "I had blood clots in my stomach that I thought were from something I ate, but it was my heart because my heart wasn't pumping the blood through my body like it should because my heart was so enlarged," Culbreath said. She continued to live her healthy lifestyle and take the medications. Culbreath said she never considered a transplant, and never even considered that she might need one. "Everything was going pretty great until 2020," she said. "At the end of June, I started getting swelling in my feet. I would go to the doctor's and they'd say it was fluid. I'd go to urgent care and they would say it was bronchitis. They'd treat me for it but it went away. I would go to the hospital and they would treat me for it, take some of the fluid off because my chest was hurting. I went there three times and at that point, I'm like 'Something is going on. My chest is hurting like 2001.' I'm short of breath, I can hardly walk from my car to my house, from my car to my job." She finally called her doctor and explained the situation again, getting admitted to the hospital's cardiovascular unit again, where her doctor finally told her the word she never thought she'd need to hear: transplant. "He said, 'Your heart has declined and there's nothing else we can do for you. We gave you all the right medications. You're a good candidate to try to get on the transplant list,'" she said. "I just broke down and cried, because I never thought that I would have to get a transplant. I always thought that this heart would last me forever." Culbreath said her family and friends prayed for her, and her brother begged her to do something, to get on the list to get a heart. "Finally, my faith kicked in and I'm like 'OK, let's go try to get me on the transplant list,'" she said. She went to St. Vincent in Indianapolis late at night Oct. 13 and spent most of the next week having tests and making preparations to get her on the list. "It's bittersweet because you're not thinking somebody has to die," she said. "I wanted to live, and I didn't want to with the Left Ventricular Assist Device (LVAD) — if I had no choice, then yes. But I just knew God would bless me and I just knew that." Culbreath was placed on the national transplant list Oct. 19, 2020. At the time, early in the morning, she was at a status three. "My hands had turned dark and I thought it was from hand sanitizer because it was COVID, but my hands wasn't getting enough oxygen so they were really, really dark," she said. Adding an intra-aortic balloon pump, Culbreath was bumped up on the transplant list to a status two. A friend said God told her she'd get a heart Tuesday. "I'm like, 'Girl,' because people stay on the transplant list for years," she said. "Some of them don't even make it. But it was like one in the morning and I heard God tell me, 'Pray for the surgeon.' I just heard this voice, and I prayed, and directly after that they walked in the room and said 'We have you a match.' And I just broke down crying because it was a miracle and it all happened so fast that they wasn't even really able to prepare me for what I was going to have to look forward to after the transplant." That same Tuesday morning, a woman named Teena Smith, of St. Joseph, Michigan, was experiencing one of the hardest days of her life. Her son, Joseph Reaume, died unexpectedly in Florida. As Reaume wasn't a registered organ donor, it was up to Smith to make the decision whether or not he would become one after his passing. "My decision to donate my son's organs was because of the person my son was," Smith wrote. "My son was 41 when he passed away and I wasn't sure what to do at that moment so I prayed on it and a peace came over me. I knew at that minute he was letting me know what I needed to do." After nine hours of surgery, and six weeks of recovery, Reaume's heart was helping Culbreath get her life back together. With a pacemaker installed, Culbreath was slowly making a new life for herself and Reaume's heart. The first year was difficult, and it's still difficult sometimes, Culbreath said, but she's doing the best she can for now. "I'm grateful for my gift so I want to take care of my gift," she said. It's pretty common, Culbreath said, for transplant recipients to send letters or favors to families of donors, thanking them for the gift they've given them. In fact, almost a year after her own transplant Culbreath got the idea to send a Build-A-Bear with a recording of her new heartbeat to Reaumes' mother from another woman who had done the same, so the family could always hear their loved one's heartbeat. She also wrote Smith a poem, and a letter specifically thanking her for the gift of life and updating her on her health. "I will do the best I can to take care of this perfect heart," Culbreath wrote in the letter. "I will make sure Joe's heart has a great home." Not many respond, though. As many as 90% of recipients reach out, but Culbreath said maybe 10% of donor families respond. Culbreath feared she was becoming part of that statistic. However, a few months later, Culbreath's second dream she didn't know she'd have came true. "That was like the happiest moment ever," she said. "After that, we would write each other back and forth and after that, we had started talking a couple times over the phone." Smith's decision to donate her son's organs saved Culbreath and three other people. "I never was an organ donor until it hit me," Culbreath said. "I never realized how important it is that you could help to save someone else's life. I want to make people aware that can't take these parts with us when we leave, so why not help someone else to be able to live on and to do the purpose that God designed for them." After over a year, the families finally met in person. Saturday afternoon, they met at Papa Vino's Italian Kitchen, 1332 Hilltop Road, St. Joseph, Michigan. "I couldn't sleep the night before because I was so excited," she said. "We're family now. I'm a part of their family, and they're a part of my family." Reaume's birthday was May 2. His family is putting together a barbecue and has asked Culbreath to attend. "I'll be there," she said. "I will be there, God-willing, I'll be there. Me and my family and my friends. I can't wait." She says they've become a family, hers and Reaume's, but there's a sadness to the story. "I was sad to hear of how he passed, and the point of someone has to die in order for you to live, that's bittersweet and it's something that I pray for her about all the time because I know that has to be hard for her," Culbreath said. "But if he was here standing in front of me today, I would tell him how grateful and thankful that I am that he is a blessing to me and that he can live on now." She didn't always feel that way. In the months following her transplant, she felt a lot of guilt and sadness surrounding the loss of Reaume, a man she never knew, but who died while she lived on. Her social worker and transplant coordinator helped her see things differently. "You may not be here physically, but a part of you is living on through me and I'm doing the best I can to take care of that heart and I'm going to travel — because that's something that he wanted to do — I'll be thinking of him because now a part of him gets to travel with me," she said. "This may not be my heart that God designed for me, but it's mine now and I'm going to do the best I can to take care of me and Joe's heart." More than 105,000 Americans are waiting for a lifesaving organ transplant. "I'm able to enjoy my family," Culbreath said. "One day my kids will get married and have kids and God's will I'll be able to see all of this happen and it's because someone, Teena, decided to donate her son's organs I have that chance now. I'm so grateful and so thankful. It changed me, not only physically but spiritually. I'm able to see things a whole new way now. I'm a witness. I could not be here before but now I'm standing here before with — with a heart that was only working 5% and I'm standing here today because of an organ donation that saved my life." Seventeen people die each day waiting for an organ transplant, but one donor can save up to eight lives through organ donation and help heal up to 75 through tissue donation.

ELKHART — Sharon Culbreath was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and an enlarged heart at age 31.

"I got really sick," she recalled. "I had shortness of breath and my chest felt very heavy at the time so I went to Elkhart General and they diagnosed me with pneumonia."

Culbreath, Elkhart, went back three times before heading to Goshen Hospital with a friend, where they finally discovered her enlarged heart and sent her to the cardiovascular unit at Elkhart General.

"I thought I was doing really good, but my heart was only working at like 20%," she said.

Congestive heart failure or hypertrophic cardiomyopathy is a disease of the heart muscle itself. As a result of the weakened muscle, the heart doesn't effectively pump blood through the rest of the body, and worsens its own condition through lack of physical activity in the heart, enlarging and thickening, in a continual weakening of the heart and by default, the body. It's a hereditary condition caused by the proteins that allow the heart muscle to contract. She and her two sisters all ended up with the diagnosis, and an adult nephew was recently diagnosed.

"My doctor had told me that I would probably need a defibrillator," she said. "My heart got a little better. It went up to 35% and so they said now you don't need one."

That was in 2001. Fast-forward to 2018 when things started to go downhill again despite maintaining a healthy lifestyle and having no other ailments.

In November 2017, she had an echocardiogram done and her doctor informed her that her heart function had again decreased to 30%, and she'd need to go on a defibrillator again. By February 2018, her heart rate was at 217 beats per minute. The defibrillator had saved her life, but only for a short time, going off three times in 2018.

"I had blood clots in my stomach that I thought were from something I ate, but it was my heart because my heart wasn't pumping the blood through my body like it should because my heart was so enlarged," Culbreath said.

She continued to live her healthy lifestyle and take the medications. Culbreath said she never considered a transplant, and never even considered that she might need one.

"Everything was going pretty great until 2020," she said. "At the end of June, I started getting swelling in my feet. I would go to the doctor's and they'd say it was fluid. I'd go to urgent care and they would say it was bronchitis. They'd treat me for it but it went away. I would go to the hospital and they would treat me for it, take some of the fluid off because my chest was hurting. I went there three times and at that point, I'm like 'Something is going on. My chest is hurting like 2001.' I'm short of breath, I can hardly walk from my car to my house, from my car to my job."

She finally called her doctor and explained the situation again, getting admitted to the hospital's cardiovascular unit again, where her doctor finally told her the word she never thought she'd need to hear: transplant.

"He said, 'Your heart has declined and there's nothing else we can do for you. We gave you all the right medications. You're a good candidate to try to get on the transplant list,'" she said. "I just broke down and cried, because I never thought that I would have to get a transplant. I always thought that this heart would last me forever."

Culbreath said her family and friends prayed for her, and her brother begged her to do something, to get on the list to get a heart.

"Finally, my faith kicked in and I'm like 'OK, let's go try to get me on the transplant list,'" she said.

She went to St. Vincent in Indianapolis late at night Oct. 13 and spent most of the next week having tests and making preparations to get her on the list.

"It's bittersweet because you're not thinking somebody has to die," she said. "I wanted to live, and I didn't want to with the Left Ventricular Assist Device (LVAD) — if I had no choice, then yes. But I just knew God would bless me and I just knew that."

Culbreath was placed on the national transplant list Oct. 19, 2020. At the time, early in the morning, she was at a status three.

"My hands had turned dark and I thought it was from hand sanitizer because it was COVID, but my hands wasn't getting enough oxygen so they were really, really dark," she said.

Adding an intra-aortic balloon pump, Culbreath was bumped up on the transplant list to a status two. A friend said God told her she'd get a heart Tuesday.

"I'm like, 'Girl,' because people stay on the transplant list for years," she said. "Some of them don't even make it. But it was like one in the morning and I heard God tell me, 'Pray for the surgeon.' I just heard this voice, and I prayed, and directly after that they walked in the room and said 'We have you a match.' And I just broke down crying because it was a miracle and it all happened so fast that they wasn't even really able to prepare me for what I was going to have to look forward to after the transplant."

That same Tuesday morning, a woman named Teena Smith, of St. Joseph, Michigan, was experiencing one of the hardest days of her life. Her son, Joseph Reaume, died unexpectedly in Florida. As Reaume wasn't a registered organ donor, it was up to Smith to make the decision whether or not he would become one after his passing.

"My decision to donate my son's organs was because of the person my son was," Smith wrote. "My son was 41 when he passed away and I wasn't sure what to do at that moment so I prayed on it and a peace came over me. I knew at that minute he was letting me know what I needed to do."

After nine hours of surgery, and six weeks of recovery, Reaume's heart was helping Culbreath get her life back together. With a pacemaker installed, Culbreath was slowly making a new life for herself and Reaume's heart. The first year was difficult, and it's still difficult sometimes, Culbreath said, but she's doing the best she can for now.

"I'm grateful for my gift so I want to take care of my gift," she said.

It's pretty common, Culbreath said, for transplant recipients to send letters or favors to families of donors, thanking them for the gift they've given them. In fact, almost a year after her own transplant Culbreath got the idea to send a Build-A-Bear with a recording of her new heartbeat to Reaumes' mother from another woman who had done the same, so the family could always hear their loved one's heartbeat. She also wrote Smith a poem, and a letter specifically thanking her for the gift of life and updating her on her health.

"I will do the best I can to take care of this perfect heart," Culbreath wrote in the letter. "I will make sure Joe's heart has a great home."

Not many respond, though. As many as 90% of recipients reach out, but Culbreath said maybe 10% of donor families respond. Culbreath feared she was becoming part of that statistic.

However, a few months later, Culbreath's second dream she didn't know she'd have came true.

"That was like the happiest moment ever," she said. "After that, we would write each other back and forth and after that, we had started talking a couple times over the phone."

Smith's decision to donate her son's organs saved Culbreath and three other people.

"I never was an organ donor until it hit me," Culbreath said. "I never realized how important it is that you could help to save someone else's life. I want to make people aware that can't take these parts with us when we leave, so why not help someone else to be able to live on and to do the purpose that God designed for them."

After over a year, the families finally met in person. Saturday afternoon, they met at Papa Vino's Italian Kitchen, 1332 Hilltop Road, St. Joseph, Michigan.

"I couldn't sleep the night before because I was so excited," she said. "We're family now. I'm a part of their family, and they're a part of my family."

Reaume's birthday was May 2. His family is putting together a barbecue and has asked Culbreath to attend.

"I'll be there," she said. "I will be there, God-willing, I'll be there. Me and my family and my friends. I can't wait."

She says they've become a family, hers and Reaume's, but there's a sadness to the story.

"I was sad to hear of how he passed, and the point of someone has to die in order for you to live, that's bittersweet and it's something that I pray for her about all the time because I know that has to be hard for her," Culbreath said. "But if he was here standing in front of me today, I would tell him how grateful and thankful that I am that he is a blessing to me and that he can live on now."

She didn't always feel that way. In the months following her transplant, she felt a lot of guilt and sadness surrounding the loss of Reaume, a man she never knew, but who died while she lived on. Her social worker and transplant coordinator helped her see things differently.

"You may not be here physically, but a part of you is living on through me and I'm doing the best I can to take care of that heart and I'm going to travel — because that's something that he wanted to do — I'll be thinking of him because now a part of him gets to travel with me," she said. "This may not be my heart that God designed for me, but it's mine now and I'm going to do the best I can to take care of me and Joe's heart."

More than 105,000 Americans are waiting for a lifesaving organ transplant.

"I'm able to enjoy my family," Culbreath said. "One day my kids will get married and have kids and God's will I'll be able to see all of this happen and it's because someone, Teena, decided to donate her son's organs I have that chance now. I'm so grateful and so thankful. It changed me, not only physically but spiritually. I'm able to see things a whole new way now. I'm a witness. I could not be here before but now I'm standing here before with — with a heart that was only working 5% and I'm standing here today because of an organ donation that saved my life."

Seventeen people die each day waiting for an organ transplant, but one donor can save up to eight lives through organ donation and help heal up to 75 through tissue donation.

Dani Messick is the education and entertainment reporter for The Goshen News. She can be reached at dani.messick@goshennews.com or at 574-538-2065.

Dani Messick is the education and entertainment reporter for The Goshen News. She can be reached at dani.messick@goshennews.com or at 574-538-2065.