Guardian angel for transplant patients and their families
It was around Christmas last year when William Wylie-Modro and his family realized something wasn’t right. The 17-year-old high school senior had been born with a heart abnormality that left him with two chambers rather than four, and his health had begun a precipitous decline that winter. When a physician at Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital informed his family that a heart transplant was his only option, they were stunned—and utterly unprepared for the realities such a decision involved. Luckily they had someone in their corner from day one. She was referring to Mary Burge, LCSW, Packard Children’s pediatric heart transplant social worker. For more than 30 years she has attended to just about every non-medical issue that comes up while preparing for and recovering from the procedure. For patients and their families, she’s something of an all-purpose fixer. “She sorted out our insurance situation. She worked out my accommodations. She wrote a letter to my husband’s work, explaining that he needed to be away for a period,” Wylie-Modro said. “She even worked with William’s school to make sure he’d be getting credit for certain classes.” Here she stopped not because she ran out of examples but because William started interjecting his own. Long-term connectionsIf Burge sounds like a miracle worker, she’s had time to hone her role. Just as Stanford’s heart transplant program is the longest continually active transplant program in the world, Burge is the longest-serving heart transplant social worker. Since starting in 1978—she first supported adult transplant patients—she has devoted herself to the array of emotional and logistical needs that accompany the procedure. Concerns start well before the transplant is scheduled and can last years after it. She’s still in touch with Elizabeth Craze, who made history in 1984 by becoming the first child under the age of 5 to receive a heart transplant at Stanford. (The first successful U.S. adult heart transplant also was performed at Stanford, in 1968.) Invaluable resource“So many familiar things are taken away from a patient—a sense of being in charge of your own body, your own fate, your privacy. Those can be really hard for anyone, especially kids. Right away they ask, ‘What is going on? Why am I here? When can I go home? Who are all these people coming into my room? Why can’t I wear my own clothes? Why can’t I be in my own bed?’” she said. “Parents want to know everything, too. They want you to predict the future. And because so many are coming from elsewhere—another hospital, another part of the country, another country—they want to know where they’re going to stay, how they’ll manage financially, about their job, about their other kids, how they’re going to cope, and so on.” |
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