Khiat Jing Ying Charlotte Emma, 14

School: Dunman High School

Topic: Your organ transplant journey as a teenager

Award: Fourth Place, Junior Category, 2024

Mosaic

We are all mosaics – full of unique pieces that form each of our identities. But when one piece falls, we start to crumble, losing the integral parts of ourselves…until there is nothing left. Times like those are when you rely on others. But who would give up a piece of themselves, knowing they could be next to shatter?

Ever since I was first diagnosed with kidney disease, I clung onto the hope of a transplant. However, with each ‘sorry’ and ‘it will come soon’, the little faith I had left slowly drained. Every poke and prod left a lasting scar, an eternal reminder of my days of agony. As the subsidies slowly stopped rolling in, my family’s savings started depleting.

“Ma, am I going to d–”

“No, you aren’t. You shouldn’t say such things.”

“But–”

No one would tell me anything. Between their numerous talks in the hospital hallways and whispering about ‘preparing themselves’, I knew what my doctors and parents were hiding. But why did they hide it? I was thirteen, I understood it. I accepted it, but they had not yet. They needed time…time I feared I would not have. As the days passed, my position in the waitlist stayed stagnant. Prayers turned to desperate pleas, but none of my relatives were the right match. Until…

“They found a match!”

The moment my mother burst into the room in a frenzy of excitement, I knew my life was about to change. However, as wild cheers from visiting relatives filled the room, I had a nagging sense of guilt. What if the kind stranger’s donation caused their own health to deteriorate? What if after all those years on the waitlist, I rejected the kidney? If there was anything my years in the hospital taught me, it was to never get my hopes up. I had to spare myself from the pain of getting them crushed again.

As I was wheeled into surgery that night, worry still clouded my mind. Although I was repeatedly assured by doctors that the survival rate of kidney transplants in teenagers was high, I could not shake my anxiety.

“Breathe slowly into the mask.”

Just sleep. It will be over soon. You will wake up.

You will.

You have to.

“She’s awake!”

As my groggy eyes slowly fluttered open, the soft hum of monitors and the familiar scent of antiseptic permeated the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) room. I slowly took in the surroundings as my mother’s hand landed gently on my shoulder as warmth flowed through my lethargic body, as if she was filling me with strength. Instantly, I felt a gush of relief that I had made it through the procedure. However, apprehension soon followed, as I feared my body would reject the new organ.

A few days later, after the doctors declared that my condition was stable, I was transferred to a normal ward. One by one, my classmates and relatives started sending get well soon cards and balloons. As my discharge date became closer and closer, I began reminiscing about the days before my diagnosis, being able to attend school and go out with friends whenever I wanted to. The removal of my dialysis port was also a major milestone in my journey back to normalcy. While I had to accept that I still had to take medication and monitor my health closely, not having to be stuck in a chair for hours on end, multiple times a week, was certainly a blessing.

Fortunately, after maintaining a healthy diet and taking my medication regularly, I soon regained my strength. I could finally meet my friends and attend dance lessons again. However, my journey was not over yet, not until I met the person who selflessly gave up a piece of themselves for me.

As the door creaked open, my curiosity instantly turned to shock and unbridled joy. Rushing up to hug my donor, I could not help but tear up, knowing that it was because of that person that I was able to return to my normal life.

“Ms Lai?”

“I’m proud of you for overcoming so much. I really am.”

Ms Lai, thank you for being a wonderful form teacher, and most importantly, thank you for giving me my life back. I will forever carry a part of you in me, a part of you for which I am eternally grateful.

Disclaimer: Please note that the views and opinions expressed in the essays for the Live On Festival 2024 are those of the participants and are not endorsed by the National Organ Transplant Unit (Ministry of Health).

To learn more about organ donation and organ transplantation in Singapore, please visit www.liveon.gov.sg ↗ (opens in new tab)