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Incase you don’t know who I am, I’m Honey Austin, an eleven-year old brunette girl who lives in Lexington, Kentucky.

You might think I’m writing this to tell you about the latest ‘grade school’ gossip: crushes, school, losers, and the like. The truth is, I’m not the type that blurts out stuff and tells lies. Instead, I’m usually the subject of gossip in my school, and it’s very frustrating to be in my position, believe me. But I don’t want to talk about this now.

I just want to write about my story, a story that seems unbelievable but a lot of people out there all over the world are also caught up in a similar situation as mine. I’m just very lucky to have someone help my mom and me.

Okay, I guess I should start first from my birth.

I was born in the New York General Hospital on March 10, 1995. My dad and mom were pretty excited since they’ve been expecting a child for so long. My dad named me Honey, because he told me that I reminded him of my mom (my dad would usually call my mom ‘honey’ sometimes, I think it’s just the way how couples work) brunette hair (which at that time was very scarce and really short), hazel eyes, and the way I laugh sometimes.

Unfortunately, my parents’ joy was short-lived when the doctor reported that I had a Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome. It meant the left side of my heart (the side which gets all the blood with oxygen from the lungs and pumps it out to the body) is underdeveloped and that blood won’t be able to flow properly through the left side of my heart.

The doctor recommended I have a heart transplant right away if they wanted me to live. They were very willing for me to have the transplant, knowing it’s the only way I could live, but my parents freaked out when they saw how much they would have to pay for the transplant.

Fortunately, some friends of dad’s in the army (he was around a year in the army at that time) donated money since they saw his desperate need and he had been kind and hardworking to them. In the end, my dad raised enough money for me to have the transplant.

I can’t really describe to you how it felt to have a heart transplant (since I was just a few days old at that time).


My mom and dad would usually tell people about my heart transplantation; that’s how I first knew about it.

“Your child seems pretty healthy.” they would say.

“Thank you so much, Honey actually had a heart transplant when she was a few days old.” my parents would tell them.

“Oh really?” they would ask, not truly convinced by what my parents said.

“Yes.” my parents would answer, then they would babble on and on about my Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome.

I received a lot of attention because of this, and I actually liked it, but I had some downsides too.

I would go to the cardiologist every six months so they could check my heart. They also gave me a lot of medications.

As a child, of course, I was annoyed.

I always wondered why I wasn’t aloud to play outside with the other kids and why I had to take a lot of medicines. Sometimes I would even refuse to take my medicines.

I didn’t get it at that time and I felt like I was being punished for something I did not do.

Eventually, as I grew older, I learned all about it.