Heart patient says I do at MUSC Health two days before surgery

For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health.”

Calvin and Chaneika Myers have lived those words these past 14 years. But Saturday afternoon in the sunlit mezzanine of the Ashley River Tower at MUSC Health, with family members and fellow patients looking on, the pair made it official. 

Buoyed by joy, the glowing bride stood up from her wheelchair to walk down the aisle to her waiting groom. Family members, nurses, social workers and even a representative from the heart device maker Abbott had scrambled over the past week to come up with a dress, flowers and food. Someone had volunteered to play the piano but then couldn’t make it when the wedding was moved from Friday to Saturday. But there on Saturday afternoon, a tired-looking man dozed in an armchair while his wife received chemotherapy. As the staff organized the room, he was drawn to the piano and began playing. As it turns out, the man plays the piano at church every week, and he was pleased to be able to play for this hospital wedding. The wedding had its pianist. 

After the wedding, the bride returned to her hospital room. Two days later, she would undergo surgery to implant a left ventricular assist device, or LVAD, to help her failing heart. 

Chaneika was just 28 years old when she had a heart attack. She had no idea what was happening. 

She was at a neighbor’s house in Darlington when she began feeling fluish. She was sweating, coughing and felt sick to her stomach. Her neighbors were so alarmed they called an ambulance, which took her to McLeod Regional Medical Center in Florence. From there, she was rushed to MUSC Health. 

Looking back, she says, she can now see she had symptoms building up prior to the heart attack. She felt a pulling in her back, her shoulders and neck were tight and her legs were swelling up. But she never felt that stereotypical pain in her chest.  

“At that age I definitely wasn’t thinking, ‘Oh, I’m having congestive heart failure,’” she said.

Daniel Judge, director of cardiovascular genetics, said the cause of Chaneika’s heart disease still isn’t entirely clear. Although he’s had patients in her age range before, it’s rare to see someone so young, he said. 

After her heart attack, Chaneika began seeing cardiologist Michael Craig, who treats patients both in Charleston and at the MUSC Health Cardiology center in Florence. 

Over the years, the couple’s children, Cashion, 13, and Calvin Jr., 12, learned to help out at home, making sure Chaneika took her medicine. They also learned to cope with Chaneika’s hospitalizations, knowing she often wouldn’t be coming home for a while. Chaneika is particularly grateful for Calvin’s mother, who keeps the kids when she’s hospitalized. It’s one thing off her mind, because she knows they’re well cared for in her absence.  

But six years after her heart attack, it became clear something more needed to be done. 

Chaneika was admitted again in late June. She was weak and wobbly, but her doctors encouraged her to keep moving. On July 4 she nervously agreed to a nurse’s suggestion to walk down the hall to watch fireworks. 

“Just getting down to the end of the hall without having to stop was exciting,” she said. She told the nurse, “I don’t know if I’m more excited about the fireworks or the fact that I didn’t pass out.”

A committee evaluated her for LVAD surgery. Implanting the LVAD is a major operation, Judge said. Living with it is a lifestyle change, too. The LVAD is an internal pump that moves blood from the left ventricle to the aorta. A cable connects the LVAD inside the body to a power source outside the body. The LVAD needs electricity or battery power, so a power outage can be a life-threatening event. In addition, Judge said, once the LVAD is implanted, the patient no longer has a pulse. Special equipment is needed to check a patient’s blood pressure, making even routine visits challenging. 

Judge said the one-year survival rate is approximately 90 percent for the newest version of LVADs, and the five-year survival rate is not yet known, because they are so new. 

But the LVAD could also allow her to be more present in her children’s lives, rather than spending so much time in bed. The doctors wanted to give her a chance at a better quality of life. 

“The cardiology group roots for her a lot,” said palliative care social worker Kate Rogers.  

When Chaneika told Judge she was worried about the surgery, he responded that he would be worried if she didn’t have concerns. It’s a “very big deal,” he said.  

As the two talked, Chaneika told the doctor about everything she wished she’d done before things got so bad, including getting married. 

Chaneika and Calvin had wanted to get married for a long time. In fact, most people probably think they’re already married, she said. But money was tight, and though she would have been fine with a justice of the peace ceremony, he wanted her to have it all — the church, the dress, the reception — everything. 

Though Judge was the first person to suggest to Chaneika that she could get married at the hospital, he credits Rogers with planting the idea. Rogers, on the other hand, credits Judge for making it happen, including drafting a letter to the probate office explaining why Chaneika couldn’t appear in person to apply for a marriage license. 

As the wedding began to take shape, Calvin’s sister, Sierra Williams, jumped into action, helping Chaneika track down a dress on LetGo.com. A nurse gave her shoes, and someone else gave her a necklace. Just like Cinderella, everything came together for the big day. 

“I’ve built a rapport here,” Chaneika said. It’s obvious that the nurses and techs really care about the patients and see this as more than just a job, she said. “I’ve been gushing about how great they are."  

And on Saturday, everything came together. After a particularly hard week, Rogers said, “this has been one of our little bits of happy.”

Chaneika’s surgery was performed by Lucian Lozonschi, director of Surgical Heart Failure and Cardiac Transplantation. The day after the surgery, he reported that everything went well and he was very happy with the result. "She looks great," he said. "She's doing just wonderfully." Now, she faces a minimum of one to two weeks in the hospital for recovery, though she has mentally prepared herself for six to eight weeks. 

And she even thinks that maybe one day, she and Calvin will return to Charleston: not to visit MUSC, but to honeymoon.