PTSD and The Good Samaritan

"I do know," he told her. "I know because that's how I feel about you...sweetheart."

Heath stroked her hair, smiled at her then said, "In case you've forgotten since I last said it, I love you, too."

They kissed again then Heath sat up and told her it was about time for him to go.

"I know. I just don't want you to," Rachel told him.

"I don't want to go, but I need to," he told her, knowing she knew that, too. "You need to rest."

"I guess a little beauty sleep couldn't hurt, huh?" she said, trying to be funny.

"You are already more beautiful than any woman I've ever known, Rachel," he told her, all kidding aside.

They hugged and kissed one more time before getting up so Heath could say goodnight to her parents before Rachel walked him out to his car. There was precious little more to be said so they just stood there and held one another for several minutes before saying 'see you in the morning' and kissing each other one more time.

Neither of them slept much that night as the kinds of thoughts anyone in their places would have ran through their minds. But more than anything was the unspoken fear that one of them might not survive leaving the other worse off than before they'd met.

Were Heath not to make it, Rachel would have a new lease on life, but without Heath, a man she'd only just met but dearly loved, would life be worth living? And were she to die, would Heath lose all hope and possibly do the unthinkable?

Four am finally came as both of them got out of bed and prepared to head to the hospital where the procedure would be performed.

At 4:45, both of them, and their parents, less Heath's father, all met in the lobby where they hugged and shook hands and wished the 'kids' the best of luck.

Heath took Rachel aside and told her again there was nothing to worry about; that everything would be fine.

"I know," she bravely replied, hoping he couldn't somehow see the doubts that ran so deeply through her mind.

"I love you," she told him just when an RN came to tell them it was time.

Heath kissed her softly and said, "I love you, too, sweetheart."

Rachel managed not to cry this time as the RN took her arm and led her away from the man she loved while another nurse took Heath to a separate room.

As they changed into surgical gowns, both of them signed another ream of legal paperwork then were reminded the procedure would take between four and eight hours...depending. Depending on a whole lot of variables.

They weren't allowed to eat for 12 hours before the procedure, but neither of them had any appetite making that a moot point. It was all now a matter of waiting.

Just before they were separately wheeled into their respective ORs, Heath asked if he could talk to Rachel again.

"I don't see why not," the attending physician said as he nodded to the nurse.

Rachel was beyond happy when she heard she had a visitor and that it was Heath. His gurney was pushed alongside hers and both of them reached for the other's hand.

"I had to see you one more time," Heath told her.

"Why? So you could make me cry again?" she teased. She was already feeling good, but this time it was drug-induced.

"I really do love you," he told her.

She squeezed his hand and said, "You're the first man who's not only said that to me but showed me how much he means it."

Rachel sat up a little and looked over at him.

"I love you, too."

The two nurses were both women, and one of them said, "Okay, you two. If you don't stop, you're gonna make me cry!"

"Sorry," Heath said. "I had to tell her that one more time."

"It better not be the last time," Rachel told him as sternly as she could manage.

"It won't be. I promise," he told her.

"Okay, you love birds. We've gotta get this young man ready to go."

Rachel let go of his hand and felt his fingers slide away as the gurney began to move.

"He's very handsome," Rachel's nurse told her.

"He's...he's beautiful," Rachel told her as she drifted into a kind of pre-twilight as the preparatory medications really took hold, and that was the last thought she had before the anesthetist put her under.

The procedure began at 7am and didn't end until almost two o'clock that afternoon.

Heath's father, who was strongly opposed to what his son was doing, nevertheless couldn't stand the pressure of waiting and took off work at noon. All four of them were on pins and needles when the doctor finally showed up to brief them a little after 2pm.

He looked at each of them then said, "So far, so good."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief before he explained there were still many things that could still go wrong from infection to rejection.

"But as these things go, this was about as good as it gets."

He asked if there were any questions, and the only one they had was when they could see their children.

"I'd say sometime around four or five, maybe?" he told them. "But not before that, I'm afraid. And when you do go in, you'll need to wear sterile masks, gowns, and gloves to preclude any chance of infection. And, of course, that means no kissing, okay?"

As he walked away, the women hugged and the men shook hands, and Heath's father had to turn away to prevent anyone from seeing him tearing up. The thought that his son had survived two tours in Afghanistan only to die on an operating table for something he didn't have to do had been eating him alive.

But now, after seeing Rachel's parents, he was able to put this in perspective a little better, and what caused him to be emotional was the realization that what his son had just done wasn't only an act of kindness. It was that, to be sure, but it was far more than just simple altruism. What Heath had done was nothing less than heroic.

His service had also been heroic, but this selfless act was 'above and beyond' any call of duty. So Jim Thomas stood there as tears silently streamed down his face pretending to decide what to get from a vending machine while the three other parents talked animatedly about the future of their children.

The one thing Heath's father didn't know, and couldn't understand, was that this donation was something his son HAD to do in order to reclaim his own life. His lack of understanding was, well—understandable—since no one who hadn't dealt with the unique horrors of PTSD could understand. Those who've been severely depressed could come close to understanding the hideous nature of this disorder, but beyond that, it was a kind of hell no outsider could appreciate.

As Jim's tears stopped, and when he was sure there was no trace of his loss of control remaining, he returned to the other three adults who were discussing what sounded like an impending marriage.

"What are you talking about?" Jim asked, trying not to sound overly snide.

"Oh, well, Heath is...in love...with Rachel," Jan told him.

Jim snorted and said, "The hell he is! The boy's not even 30 years old, and he just met her. How the hell can he be in love?"

Rachel's parents got very quiet knowing he had a valid point. And yet they knew their daughter, and there was no doubt in their mind she'd fallen in love with this man's handsome, young son. She hadn't said those words to them, but they knew. And so did Heath's mother.

"We didn't date all that long, honey," his wife reminded him.

He started to argue the point when gratitude 'tapped him on the shoulder' again.

He ran his hand through his thinning gray hair and said, "Well, it's his life."

"Can I buy you a cup of coffee, Jim?" Brian asked.

Jim looked over at him then said, "You know what? That sounds pretty good right about now."

By the time they were able to visit their 'kids', the two men had formed a bond of sorts. They weren't 'BFFs' and probably never would be, but there was a strong amount of mutual respect for them, and that was enough.

The first words out of both Rachel's and Heath's mouths were, "How is..." the other person.

"Fine, honey. Just fine," both were told.

In response to, "How are you?" both of them said, "Happy. Very happy."

It was an agonizing 48 hours in the ICU for both of them before the new couple was allowed to see each other, and even then, there was no kissing allowed. But as Heath was wheeled over to Rachel's bed in recovery, he was able to hold her hand as they talked. And Heath was able to raise his head enough to see the woman he loved and smile at her.

"After seeing me like this, you probably feel very differently, huh?" Rachel said, only half joking.

"I do," Heath told her with a warm smile. "I love you even more."

He saw her blinking away tears, so Heath squeezed her hand and told her he'd come back a little later.

"Heath?" she weakly called out.

He raised his eyebrows and waited.

"Thank you."

"No. Thank you," he told her as he smiled at her again.

The two of them spent the next week in the hospital as they recovered. Once Rachel could walk again, they performed heir mandatory walking by visiting the other person who was maybe 50 feet down the hall several times each day.

After nine days in the hospital with no complications, they were discharged and sent home.

Because Rachel still had insurance, her total bill came to less than $5,000. Heath, however, had only the VA which didn't cover 'optional procedures', something he'd known all along. He'd never asked nor did he care about the cost, even though he'd been briefed on it as part of the in-take procedure when he filled out the stack of legal paperwork and again just before the surgery.

He did know there was a foundation that covered a huge chunk of donations made by living donors who were uninsured, but that still left Heath with a bill of around $170,000. He had no idea how he'd ever pay it off, but as long as Rachel was alive and well, that was the last thing on his mind.

And almost as important to him was the fact that he was now virtually free of the mental agony that had held him in chains for so long, and he'd have paid any price for that kind of relief.

"Heath? Can you come here for a minute?" his father said not long after he got home that first day out of the hospital.

"What's up, Dad?" he asked as he slowly walked over to the desk where his father was sitting.

"Take a look," his dad said as he spun the computer monitor around.

The smile on his father's face initially concerned him, but his concerns disappeared the moment Heath looked at the computer screen. He was so moved by what he saw that he was speechless for nearly a minute.

"So, what do you think?" his father finally asked, the smile still there.

"Dad. This...this is...incredible."

The GoFundMe page, with photos of Heath from childhood to Afghanistan and then in the hospital on a gurney giving a two thumbs up sign, were placed under a title that read, "Marine War Hero Gives the Gift of Life: Please Consider Giving Back."

The amount raised in less than a week was nearly $200,000.

"There's a little left over in case, you know, you and this girl of yours get really serious."

Heath fought back tears, but lost that war when he saw them in his father's eyes. The older man stood up and embraced his son, and said something he'd only said a time or two before.

"I love you, Son."

Heath sobbed as he told his father, "I love you, too, Dad."

It was at the 90-day mark that Dr. Denning told them they were both considered fully recovered. Heath's own liver had nearly regrown itself, and the 1/4 he'd given to Rachel was now twice that size and functioning quite well.

"Your odds of rejection are now down around 1%," the doctor told her as she and Heath sat in front of him holding hands. "I'll need to see you once a month for six months, and after that, once every six months."

After thanking him for the good news, Rachel hugged him and told him how grateful he was for all he'd done.

"Thank you, but I believe all this is due to the Good Samaritan standing next to you," he told her.

Rachel told him she agreed then, as she looked at Heath said, "The two most precious gifts are life and love. And because of this wonderful, amazing man, I was blessed to receive both of them at the same time from the same person."

Heath hammed it up and said in a southern drawl, "Ah, shucks, ma'am. Tweren't nothin'!"

Rachel put her arms around him, and in front of the doctor said, "No. It wasn't nothing. It was...everything."

*****

The two families got together often after meeting at the hospital, and they were all enjoying the 4th of July celebration at the Owens' house.

As they sat on the balcony watching the night sky explode with light, Heath took Rachel's hand. When the last remnants of the final explosion disappeared into the night sky, Heath stood up and asked if he could have everyone's attention.

Jan and Peggy looked at one another and within seconds began tearing up. They didn't need to wait for the formal proposal to know what was happening. Jim and Brian also knew and were both smiling as Heath got down on one knee and asked Rachel to marry him.

She'd cried so many times since learning she'd of the betrayal that there were no tears left to cry. In their place was a happiness that filled her heart with the kind of joy she'd only dreamed of before. So as the younger man she loved slid the beautiful diamond ring on her finger, a smile unlike any other spread across her pretty face.

Heath helped her stand up, told her again how much he loved her, then kissed his beautiful fiancé as their parents applauded...and cried.

Heath accepted his future father-in-law's offer of help, and accepted a job with the company where he worked; a job that was more than adequate to raise a family on.

The happy couple married in September, and after making sure she was healthy enough, Heath and Rachel Thomas went to work on another job; that of creating a family.

By the time Rachel turned 40, she was holding the most beautiful baby she'd ever seen, a little girl they named Chloe Elizabeth Thomas.

Both Rachel and Heath, had, at some point, stopped believing in miracles. And yet, having experienced at least three of them themselves, they no longer had any doubt that miracles did indeed happen.

Heath was no longer tormented by the memories of war, Rachel was alive, happy, and healthy, and they now had a beautiful child of their own—all thanks to a Good Samaritan who'd willingly risked his life in order to give life to someone else.