The monitor flatlined, and for a few moments everyone fell silent.

Although I knew this was coming, I couldn’t help the flood of relief and joy that burned through my veins.

Excitement like strong liquor scorching my throat and dizzying my veins.

I wanted to scream; I wanted to drop to my knees and praise every Lord in the skies.

But the sobbing couple just meters away from me kept me from my exaltation.

As they gently mourned the passing of their beautiful young daughter, I kept my delight stashed down deep. I’m sure no one would have blamed me for rapturous exuberance, but I still knew the respectful and kind way to behave.

Her parents didn’t need my condolences, they knew what this meant for me. Returning a small nod and hopeful smile from her mother, I waved goodbye and hurried towards the double doors.

I sprinted out of that ward like I was setting a world record; tears flowing hot and fast, splashing on my weak arms like holy water anointing me a new life.

The absolute buzz I got from that little girl’s death might seem horrendous to you, and I know deep down how I should have felt. But when her poor little heart was transplanted into my own dying daughter, there were no words in the world that could have quelled my joy.