This was published 5 years ago
Strangers Karen and Connie were told their time was nearly up. Then a donor gave them both a second chance
In 2017, Karen Carey, 57, then in end-stage heart failure, and cystic fibrosis sufferer Connie Severino, 42, were told their time was almost up. Then a heart was found for Karen, and lungs for Connie – from the same donor.
Connie Severino wishes she and Karen Carey (right) had met 20 years ago, so they could have been friends for years and years.Credit: Dominic Lorrimer
KAREN: The hospital rang at 3.45am in September 2017. You can’t imagine what it’s like, getting that call. My sons and then-husband were in Perth at the time and I was on my own in Sydney, so I had to get a taxi. I was already in the emergency department at St Vincent’s Hospital when Connie arrived. She was so tiny – less than 40 kilograms – she looked about 16. And she was on the respirator; very frail. I knew straight away she was there for the lungs.
My memory is we didn’t speak at all that night. In retrospect I wonder why not, but it’s such a private thing, and she had her family with her, and they were clearly flustered.
After surgery I was in the intensive care unit for two days, and I didn’t see her, but she saw me. Then I went down into high care, and then rehab, and that’s where we met. We were in the gym, and I’m thinking, “What’s the protocol here? Is it rude for me to say, ‘I’m the heart and you’re the lungs?’ ”
I remember feeling this profound bond to her already. In the end, we both sort of said, “Do you remember who I am?” We had both already figured out that we had the same donor.
I have a profound sense of comfort and calm in her presence. When I’m with her; when we’re talking on the phone; even when we’re texting – it’s a very unusual bond. Bizarre. Do you know the Higgs boson experiment? Where they separated entangled protons? You can separate [subatomic particles] by hundreds of kilometres, and what you do to one affects the other. If there’s a linkage on that level, imagine how huge the connection must be when organs grow in the same body. I honestly feel like there is a very real, fundamental connection between us. It’s … weird.
We’ve never met anyone else who shares a donor, although it must happen. Of course, we speculate endlessly about who our donor was and what they did. We both feel it was a male, maybe from Queensland, and I feel like he was a farmer. I woke up from my surgery, having never been remotely interested in gardening, thinking, “I have to grow something immediately!”
I do feel quite motherly towards Connie. I’ve already had three husbands, and twins, whereas for her, cystic fibrosis meant she always lived with the thought of dying early: no marriage, no children. But now those things are open to her; her lungs are disease-free. I remember being shocked by that – how wonderful.
The first year after the transplant, she did the City to Surf run in Sydney. I used to look at her in the gym, and she was always working so hard, so full of beans, never feeling sorry for herself. She’s a wonderful motivation for me.
When I’m in Sydney, we sit and talk. She follows Jon Bon Jovi all over the world, and she pays for some special ticket so she gets her photo taken with him; it’s hilarious. She also has a normal job and lots of family commitments. All her life her mum has looked after her, and now she looks after her mum. She manages it all so gracefully, so confidently. I just adore her.
CONNIE: I got the call at 3.30am. When I first saw Karen, I thought we were competing for the same lungs, and I was like, “She seems like a lovely lady, but I want them!” I did speak to her! I asked if she was there for lungs, and she said, “No, I’m a heart.”
She was on her own, and I thought, “Wow, where is everyone?” I felt like we had to look after her. We’re Italian, so we’re loud! Well, I was whispering because my oxygen was about 13 per cent, but everyone else was loud!
After surgery, in the intensive care unit, my sister said, “You know that lady in the waiting room? She’s two beds down.” Discovering we shared the same donor did make me feel a close connection to her. Every time I went in for rehab or whatever I’d try to sit next to her, go on the bike beside her. We’d just chat. “Hi! Hi! Hiiii!” We were both always really excited to see each other. I know she feels we’re connected on a cellular level, and maybe that’s true. She was a total stranger, yet a part of me is in her, but that part of me isn’t a part of me, or her, or … it’s just bizarre!
We both think our donor was a young man. She thinks a farmer, but that’s just because she bought a farm! And a tractor! But I’m into all these new things now, too. I was so prim and proper before, and now I swear, and I’m rougher, and I’ll speak up. Even my family say, “You’ve changed, you never used to be like this.” But I think it’s good. Gets me into a lot of trouble!
I’d been ill all my life, and now I don’t even cough. I can’t cough! That’s all I’ve known, all my life: the feeling of someone pushing you underwater while you gasp for air. And now it’s gone. And Karen had been ill for years, too, so she understands: we’ve been both near death so many times. I’ve known lots of people who’ve been sick, but they’ve all died; all my cystic fibrosis friends have died. That makes you feel guilty. But with Karen, I feel like we started this whole transplant journey together; we can bounce things off each other together, we can strive together.
Karen was a total stranger, yet a part of me is in her, but that part of me isn’t a part of me, or her, or … it’s just bizarre!
Connie Severino
We both got the same kind of complications: we compare our shakes and our chipmunk faces [side effects of transplant medication]. We can tell each other anything. I’m like, “Are you ready for the gruesome details?” And she’s like, “Bring it on.” I also bounce stuff off her about relationships and things. She’s excellent at advice.
We talk all the time and catch up when she’s in Sydney: lunches, dinners, drinks. She’s sweet as; everything you want in a friend. She’s also really beautiful; an ex-model. She always looks fantastic, fantastic outfits – unlike me; I just put on anything! Karen is that person you wish you’d met 20 years ago, so you could have been friends for years and years.
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