I was born with HLHS which stands for hypo plastic left heart syndrome. I only had half a heart and needed a lot of surgery when I was a baby. Then I got heart failure and my doctors told me I became anxious which made my Heart failure worse I ran into the same issue from when I was younger with friends not understanding me. My friends and I would go on walks after school and I would get tired and my friends would tell me to hurry up. Being sick made me feel like I was an old person. I relied on my family members a lot to take care of me because of heart failure. There were a lot of steps at my school so that was dreadful for me. I pushed myself to be like everyone else. After walking up so many steps I would be out of breath once I got to my class. which caused me to cough during class. When my heart failure got worse I calmed down and I was less anxious. I had a pump with milrinone when I was first told I would need it. I was worried people would make fun of me. Getting heart failure made me more open to tell people about my illness and my experience with it. I began to become tired even with the meds. I would sleep after school every day and I wasn’t doing as well in school compared to the beginning of the year. I had my pump checked every week. I asked to be admitted at one of my appointments. Because it was tiring. My skin was destroyed on my arm from the pic and dressing it also didn’t help that I’m allergic to medical tape and have sensitive skin. Chop was great. I was admitted the same day I asked. I was lucky because I didn’t have any antibodies so I could have any heart. After being there for three days a heart was available. Being in the hospital made me higher on the transplant list. Before the surgery I was scared so I was telling everyone I loved them and talking about death and I realized that death is upsetting but if I were to die I would expect it. Obviously I didn’t die but after the transplant I was on dilaudid or something heavy and I was thankful for the nurses, doctors and everyone. I didn’t start to remember things until probably 4 days after surgery. During the healing in the hospital it was rough. I struggled to get up and it felt like I broke my ribs and my whole upper body was sore. After being in and out of the hospital and being back in again I was a little depressed. I got a lot of art stuff from friends and family. I started to feel more happy when I started doing art. Eventually I was able to go home. I had to come back to the hospital after nine days They never found out what caused it but once I got a chest tube and the fluid was drained I felt so much better and I haven’t felt that abdominal pain since. When I was in the Hospital I did a lot of art which helped me a lot. I already enjoyed art and was good at it and I got a lot of time to do it in the hospital and there was art therapist which gave me the idea I wanted to be an art therapist.