My new heart: Miraculous donor story for UHG leader

I always worked toward being the best mother, daughter, wife, sister, employee and friend I could be. As a result, my life was always run, run, run, go, go, go — all the time.

In April 2019 my job took me across the western United States on a big project, full of my usual high-performance energy — accompanied by unchecked stress. My days and nights were packed, but I was doing what I felt I was hired to do, so I kept going. When I came home from traveling, I felt a sense of accomplishment, as I always do. I thought all this effort was beneficial for me, but I didn’t ask my heart if it was beneficial for it. 

On the morning of April 18, 2019, I was in my Washington, D.C. area home, curling my hair in front of the mirror, and talking with my daughter before going to Johns Hopkins on another work assignment. My daughter told me later, as she turned to leave the room, I suddenly stopped talking and all she heard was a loud ‘thump.’ She turned back around, saw me on the floor, unconscious and unresponsive. She called 911.

I had had a massive myocardial infarction — a heart attack. 

The news no one wants to hear

The paramedics arrived and, after their heroic efforts to resuscitate me, they were able to “bring me back.” As I was being transported from my home, the Emergency Medical Team (EMT) discovered a six-inch, third-degree burn on my left hip that penetrated the muscle from where I'd fallen on the curling iron. 

The physician who led the resuscitation efforts at the hospital met my family in the ER and informed them, “If she lives for 12 hours, she will be brain dead.” My daughter knew that I had a meeting scheduled with some of Johns Hopkins Hospital’s leadership the day of my heart attack. It prompted her to break into my phone and facilitate my transfer to Johns Hopkins Hospital. I was admitted into the Critical Care Unit (CCU) for my heart as well as my burn.

Still in “work mode”

When I regained consciousness a few days later, I woke up screaming and demanding my phone to make some “important calls.” Seeing I was lucid, the nurses said, “just give her the phone.” I called my boss, my team and my administrative assistant. I told them I had a family emergency rather than sharing that the family emergency was me. I was embarrassed for having a heart attack.

As much as I wanted my life to return to normal and to continue working, my health journey was only just beginning. I was placed on a list for patients awaiting heart transplants and I was experiencing excruciating pain in my left leg. Everyone assumed the pain was caused by the serious burn from the curling iron, but doctors added a duplex ultrasound to my work-up that examines the blood flow in arteries and veins. The results showed a blood clot in my left thigh, unrelated to the burn. The cardiac team met to discuss my case and decided I needed to be moved up on the transplant list.

Rare blood type

My blood type is O-negative. The good news is, a person with O-negative blood is considered a universal blood donor for people with different blood types. The bad news, for me, was that a person with O-negative blood can only receive blood from someone with O-negative blood. Since O-negative type blood is a rare blood type, I was prepared to be on the transplant list for the long haul. It was a sobering thought, but as a medical doctor, I entertained the probability of never finding a match and living with the possibility of a slow decline, hooked up to multiple IV bags or a Ventricular Assist Device (VAD) for my failed heart. 

Odds were against me

With the odds stacked against me, nothing but my faith could sustain me. Suddenly, miracles began to happen! An O-negative heart donor was found.

On April 30, 2019, just 12 days after my massive heart attack, I had a heart transplant. They opened my chest and facilitated the miracle of new life. I sighed a sigh of unbelievable relief. Then, as standard protocol dictates, transplant recipients need a heart biopsy the week following their transplant to check for any signs of rejection. My excitement and relief quickly turned to panic and tears when I learned the cardiac team detected some bleeding around the heart.

I had to go back to the operating room. It required an urgent repair and doctors opened my chest a second time to stop the blood which was flowing into the sac around my heart.

My personal faith

I have always had a strong faith in God, but as I prayed — now more than ever — I also began to listen to the song, "He Knows My Name" by Tasha Cobb Leonard, daily. I asked God, “What on Earth am I here for?” I was on a mission to carefully examine my life and what God wanted from me. Over time, He opened my eyes to the miracles He had performed for me … from my daughter being nearby when I collapsed, the immediate transfer to Johns Hopkins, the blood clot in my left leg being discovered, the O-negative heart donor being found, the biopsy that revealed the bleeding around my heart, the recovery from the curling iron burn and the countless other manifestations I have not enumerated.

The young donor

My gratefulness to the young person and to the family who selflessly donated their loved one’s heart to me is without bounds. It is a blessing and an honor to be a recipient. I feel compelled to express my gratitude — and I am no longer embarrassed for being human. I am thankful for the new and improved me with my precious new heart beating strong in my chest. This experience has afforded me the opportunity to share my miracle with everyone who has ears to hear. It has given me the platform to, hopefully, shift attitudes around the importance of self-care and to save lives with my story. And maybe most importantly, for people to become donors. 

The forgotten passion

As a young girl in the projects in East Little Rock, Arkansas, at six years of age, I told my father I wanted to be a doctor. My mother never let me forget my vision. Through the rapid pace of working and living, I lost touch with the passion to help others only because I had forgotten that passion for others begins with self-care. Always being on the go, non-stop with back-to-back meetings, and constant, nationwide travel distracted me from the most important people and habits in my life. That left me with no work/life balance. My transplant has given me a second chance at life; a second chance to engage in the life-affirming activities for me which include sufficient sleep, exercise, prayer and time with my family and friends.

I am sharing the miracle of my life by advocating for work/life balance, volunteering with American Heart Association to encourage others and facilitating community engagement work to help the system work better for everyone as senior vice president and chief medical officer of Health Inclusion and Community Engagement for UnitedHealth Group.  

Every single moment of my waking life I know there is something greater than me at work in me. Giving back to others while not neglecting yourself in the process is such an important life lesson. It begins with giving back to yourself, so that you have something to give to others. When you take care of yourself, you feel healthy and strong on the inside, and your heart will thank you.

Dr. Nichols currently lives in Florida and is working on a book called "Curling Iron Faith: God Knows My Name."