Lifeline hosts event to celebrate impact of organ donations
The activity will run for 24 hours, beginning at midnight Friday, April 1.
By JOE WILLIAMS
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| SNP photo by Jeffry Konczal Ryan Zinn, an organ transplant recipient, will participate in A Day of Hope, Remembrance and Celebration on Saturday, April 2, at Lifeline of Ohio Donor Memorial Park. |
At the age of 15 and a sophomore at Mohawk High School in Sycamore, Zinn came in last in the fifth heat, "running with the shot-putters," he recalled.
"Two years earlier I was the fastest kid on the sprint team, so I went from first to worst -- but it didn't matter."
Zinn, now 37 and living in Worthington, has since won 38 medals competing in the U.S. and International Transplant Games. He was Male Athlete of the Games in 1998, when Ohio State University hosted the national games. He twice carried the Olympic torch during relays en route to the Olympic games in Atlanta and Salt Lake City.
Two years after suffering a stroke that preceded his transplant, Zinn graduated from high school at the head of his class with a school track record in the 4-by-100 relay.
Zinn later earned two engineering degrees from OSU, where he works as interim director of technology licensing and commercialization. More than 22 years after undergoing a successful heart transplant, he is pursuing a second master's degree -- this one in labor and human resources.
Although doctors once told them he would have to give up athletics if he wanted to live, he continues to run.
Born in 1973 in Tiffin to Dr. Roy and Barbara Zinn -- a veterinarian and speech and hearing pathologist, respectively -- Zinn lived his first 14 years without major health problems. He played football and basketball as a freshman at Sycamore Mohawk.
One day near Thanksgiving 1987, trouble surfaced during basketball practice.
"I nearly passed out in drills," he said.
"We were doing sprints. Everything got black and everything got quiet. I was still running."
He wandered, blindly, toward the bench. His vision and hearing returned, slowly. His coach asked him what was wrong.
Medical mystery
A visit to the doctor didn't answer many questions. The doctor thought maybe he had the flu or "sports asthma."
Christmas morning, he began suffering from heart palpitations, which continued into the evening. His father took him to the emergency room.
Zinn ended up in the Cleveland Clinic, where doctors diagnosed him with idiopathic cardiomyopathy, an enlarged heart most likely infected by a virus. His heart was "basically aquiver," beating 120 to 180 times a minute. It was functioning at 12 percent or 13 percent efficiency.
Doctors gave him two options: Take heart medicine daily for the rest of his life and essentially quit sports; or undergo a heart transplant.
In 1988, the concept of receiving an organ transplant was foreign to his family. "So I went home with a fistful of medicines," Zinn recalled.
He took six different pills six times a day. He was tutored at home and finished the year as president of his freshman class.
During the summer, his condition worsened. He developed drug-induced jaundice. On Labor Day weekend of his sophomore year, he was doing geometry homework at the kitchen table when his left hand began flopping over his head, like he was waving.
He called out for help from his mother. She heard only garbled speech, realized he was having a stroke and took him to the hospital in Tiffin. Doctors stabilized him. He regained speech with difficulty, but didn't recognize his father, who had rushed over from his veterinary practice.
Within a couple of hours, he was back at the Cleveland Clinic, where doctors discovered a blood clot in his brain.
Again, doctors gave him two options: Get on the transplant list and wait, hope and pray; or "Get your affairs in order, because you have six months to live."
Eventually he returned home and waited on that list for 17 days.
"Finding the heart was a miracle," he said.
A real miracle
Donors and recipients are matched through blood type, organ size and medical urgency, said Marilyn Pongonis, director of communications for Lifeline of Ohio. There is no way of knowing what organ will be available when.
Zinn knows only that his donor was a 20-year-old college ROTC student killed in a car accident. He wrote letters to his family, thanking them for his heart, but never heard anything back.
As a result of his experience, "Whenever I meet a donor family, I treat them like my own," Zinn said.
"They need to know that they are appreciated. They are loved."
Lifeline of Ohio encourages recipients to write letters to donor families, but all identities are protected until both parties are ready to have a relationship, Pongonis said.
Zinn remembered the night he learned that a heart was on the way. It was right about midnight, a Sunday. He was in his hospital room in the Cleveland Clinic, watching a rerun of that day's 100-meter sprint in the 1988 Summer Olympics in Seoul, South Korea. The transplant team called.
"Get ready. We're going to bring a team in. We're going to start doing the prep."
Celebrate A Day of Hope
To commemorate the life-changing flurry of activity that followed, Zinn will tell his story at 1 a.m. Saturday, April 2. It will be during A Day of Hope, Remembrance and Celebration at Lifeline of Ohio Donor Memorial Park, 770 Kinnear Road.
The 24-hour event runs from midnight to 11:59 p.m. Twenty-four Central Ohio residents will take turns sitting in the Donate Life Ohio Green Chair to tell their own stories about organ and tissue transplants.
The public is invited to attend, share stories, leave a message on the Wall of Hope, Remembrance and Celebration, and light a candle to honor a loved one.
Zinn said his life has been extended and enhanced by his transplant.
"This has given me the opportunity to move through life," he said. "The experiences I've had through this life have been wonderful. I've gained much, much more than just life."
Zinn later earned two engineering degrees from OSU, where he works as interim director of technology licensing and commercialization. More than 22 years after undergoing a successful heart transplant, he is pursuing a second master's degree -- this one in labor and human resources.
Although doctors once told them he would have to give up athletics if he wanted to live, he continues to run.
Born in 1973 in Tiffin to Dr. Roy and Barbara Zinn -- a veterinarian and speech and hearing pathologist, respectively -- Zinn lived his first 14 years without major health problems. He played football and basketball as a freshman at Sycamore Mohawk.
One day near Thanksgiving 1987, trouble surfaced during basketball practice.
"I nearly passed out in drills," he said.
"We were doing sprints. Everything got black and everything got quiet. I was still running."
He wandered, blindly, toward the bench. His vision and hearing returned, slowly. His coach asked him what was wrong.
Medical mystery
A visit to the doctor didn't answer many questions. The doctor thought maybe he had the flu or "sports asthma."
Christmas morning, he began suffering from heart palpitations, which continued into the evening. His father took him to the emergency room.
Zinn ended up in the Cleveland Clinic, where doctors diagnosed him with idiopathic cardiomyopathy, an enlarged heart most likely infected by a virus. His heart was "basically aquiver," beating 120 to 180 times a minute. It was functioning at 12 percent or 13 percent efficiency.
Doctors gave him two options: Take heart medicine daily for the rest of his life and essentially quit sports; or undergo a heart transplant.
In 1988, the concept of receiving an organ transplant was foreign to his family. "So I went home with a fistful of medicines," Zinn recalled.
He took six different pills six times a day. He was tutored at home and finished the year as president of his freshman class.
During the summer, his condition worsened. He developed drug-induced jaundice. On Labor Day weekend of his sophomore year, he was doing geometry homework at the kitchen table when his left hand began flopping over his head, like he was waving.
He called out for help from his mother. She heard only garbled speech, realized he was having a stroke and took him to the hospital in Tiffin. Doctors stabilized him. He regained speech with difficulty, but didn't recognize his father, who had rushed over from his veterinary practice.
Within a couple of hours, he was back at the Cleveland Clinic, where doctors discovered a blood clot in his brain.
Again, doctors gave him two options: Get on the transplant list and wait, hope and pray; or "Get your affairs in order, because you have six months to live."
Eventually he returned home and waited on that list for 17 days.
"Finding the heart was a miracle," he said.
A real miracle
Donors and recipients are matched through blood type, organ size and medical urgency, said Marilyn Pongonis, director of communications for Lifeline of Ohio. There is no way of knowing what organ will be available when.
Zinn knows only that his donor was a 20-year-old college ROTC student killed in a car accident. He wrote letters to his family, thanking them for his heart, but never heard anything back.
As a result of his experience, "Whenever I meet a donor family, I treat them like my own," Zinn said.
"They need to know that they are appreciated. They are loved."
Lifeline of Ohio encourages recipients to write letters to donor families, but all identities are protected until both parties are ready to have a relationship, Pongonis said.
Zinn remembered the night he learned that a heart was on the way. It was right about midnight, a Sunday. He was in his hospital room in the Cleveland Clinic, watching a rerun of that day's 100-meter sprint in the 1988 Summer Olympics in Seoul, South Korea. The transplant team called.
"Get ready. We're going to bring a team in. We're going to start doing the prep."
Celebrate A Day of Hope
To commemorate the life-changing flurry of activity that followed, Zinn will tell his story at 1 a.m. Saturday, April 2. It will be during A Day of Hope, Remembrance and Celebration at Lifeline of Ohio Donor Memorial Park, 770 Kinnear Road.
The 24-hour event runs from midnight to 11:59 p.m. Twenty-four Central Ohio residents will take turns sitting in the Donate Life Ohio Green Chair to tell their own stories about organ and tissue transplants.
The public is invited to attend, share stories, leave a message on the Wall of Hope, Remembrance and Celebration, and light a candle to honor a loved one.
Zinn said his life has been extended and enhanced by his transplant.
"This has given me the opportunity to move through life," he said. "The experiences I've had through this life have been wonderful. I've gained much, much more than just life."
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