Thinn Pyant Win, 14

School: Fuhua School (Secondary)

Topic: Journey of a transplanted organ

Heart

Ba-dump... ba-dump... ba-dump...

For years, I had worked quietly in my home. I lived in a stable rhythm, beating readily for my dear host, Adaline. My host was a beautiful and friendly middle-aged lady with a loving husband and two beloved children. Every day, I had the same routine. I’d contract and expand, my valves opening and closing habitually to produce a steady beat. I felt her joy in quick bursts, her calm in gentle waves, and her fear in abrupt motions. She never spoke to me, but I knew her better than anyone.

Ba-dump, ba-dump!

That fateful day was like every other. A Saturday where my host had taken time off from work to spend with her family. They had headed to the beach. A surge of dopamine was coursing through the vessels I pumped, leading me to know Adaline was excited for today. I was happy knowing she was happy.

Ba-dump- Ba-dump—! Ba-dump!

The first sign that something was wrong came as a rush of adrenaline was suddenly sent into my bloodstream. The brain was transmitting distress signals to me, sending me into a panic as I feverously pumped blood throughout my host’s body. What was happening? Why was Adaline’s body shutting down? I pumped and pumped urgently as her pulse grew weaker, having no clue what was going on. Eventually, it became harder to beat, but I continued to try.

BA-DUMP—! BA-DUMP! BA-DUMP!—

The organ sheathing me grew heavier, weighing down on me as its air sacs filled with water. I was no longer keeping rhythm but now fighting for it. Eventually, however, no matter how hard I tried to stop it, her lungs broke down, along with the other organs surrounding me. Her life was slipping away, a weightless object I could no longer hold onto. Slowly, my strength was draining, the warmth I had always lived in fading away.

……

Silence, a once unfamiliar concept, surrounded the heavy air around me. There was no rhythm, no movement, no warmth. An inconceivable timeline encased me, one where I existed without beating.

Then a sliver of light hit my valves. A flurry of confusion stormed me in that moment and followed me as the layer above me was cut open and cold, rubber fingers reached in. A metallic object sliced off my vessels, then grabbed at me, pulling me out. Afterwards, I was placed in a heated box while my dearest host was carried off, leaving me unable to aid as a thud sounded, a metal lid blocking any further light.

Thump…

Slowly, oxygenated and nourished blood filled me up, and slowly I started to beat again. Finally, a steady rhythm revived me.

Thump, thump...

After a period of time, the lid of the metal box was re-opened, and I was taken out, then placed into a new body. I heard stitching and slicing around me as my heart rate tried to conform to this new normal. My new host was remarkably smaller, and it was a tight fit as I entered his chest.

Tt-thum, tt-thum, tt-thum..

The rhythm was not the same tune I’d been hearing my whole life. My once familiar, gentle, steady beat was gone, replaced by this. A sense of sadness enveloped me at that thought, realising I could never hear my Adaline’s rhythm again. For months, I followed along this new life, grieving my past.

Tt-thum, tt-thum…!

My new host was an energetic and excitable young boy named Evan. I worked tirelessly and perpetually to support his incessant frolics. He held an erratic and unpredictable schedule that I barely managed to keep up with. Many times, I found myself missing Adaline and her gentle beat. However, as time passed, I grew more and more familiar with this new world. I learned of his joy in rapid rushes, his calm in docile rhythms, and his fear in sudden spikes. Eventually, I learned to be accepting of Adaline’s death, and thankful for the chance to bring someone else to life. If it weren’t for her passing and donation, Evan wouldn’t ever have been able to embark upon his constant, excitable yet exhausting adventures.

Now, I carry two stories – Adaline, who gave me my everything, and Evan, who gave me a second chance at living. I hope to follow Evan along his life, across his milestones, and until he grows old, lying in a bed surrounded by his loved ones. Finally, I’ve realised the importance of organ donation, and the life it continues.

Disclaimer: Please note that the views and opinions expressed in the essays for the Live On Festival 2026 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)