By Matt Gleason, Tulsa World, March 16, 2008
Valerie Vandervort-Boyer''s feet sped over a treadmill''s moving surface as her ponytail flicked side to side. She ran or walked but always kept going. Valerie''s not one to stop unless she must. Life''s short. She knows this - she almost ran out of it.
Later in her roughly 90-minute training session for the Olympics-style U.S. Transplant Games in July in Pittsburgh, the same woman who has dealt with cystic fibrosis every one of her 36 years, pit herself against three-sets-of-10 on a gruelling hanging abdominal machine.
Sure, the ab-terrorizing exercise furrowed Valerie''s brow as "Back in Black" played in the background. Yet, when she finished, all 5-foot-1, 102-pounds of her coolly walked away.
Soon after, Valerie, who will compete in a handful of swimming events, a relay race and, perhaps, a 5k, slipped into a swimsuit to cut a steady path through the Claremore Super Recreation Center pool.
OK, she hadn''t mastered the butterfly yet, but she''s working on it. Hey, there was also a time after her 2001 double-lung transplant - that''s right, two new lungs - when Valerie couldn''t swim 25 meters completely under water.
In time, though, she conquered the pool by holding enough air in the same lungs that once helped a young girl named Colbey Oglesby breathe for all of her 15 years.
Colbey loved to swim, too, her mother said, but, then again, Colbey loved a lot of things.
That love carried over to volunteering as a clown during a CF benefit walk in Lamar, Mo.
Colbey''s mother, Stacey, still remembers the day her daughter came home from that event going on and on about one particular CF patient, a young girl, who Colbey, no doubt, made laugh more than once.
When Colbey turned 15, she rode home with her mother after earning her new driver''s permit.
"Oh, I hate my smile," the girl said as she looked at her picture. Then Colbey turned the permit over and said to her mother, "If anything ever happens to me, I want to donate my organs. We need to get this filled out, mom."
Three months later, Colbey''s mother followed her daughter''s wishes.
The car accident happened one night in September 2001 after Colbey told her mother she''d catch a ride home with a friend from a church youth group function.
On the way home, her friend''s old Chevy truck struck a semi-truck''s trailer, which blocked the road in the dark of night.
Colbey, who was wearing a lap belt, was only a mile from her parent''s Lockwood, Mo., home, and directly in front of her grandparents'' home when it happened.
Stacey vividly recalled her mother''s telephone call that night.
"Is Colbey home yet?" her mother asked.
"No," Stacey said.
"There''s been a crash," her mother reported just before her husband came running into the house.
"Oh god, it''s Colbey," is all Stacey heard before everything became "a blur after that."
A week after Colbey went into a coma, she died the morning of Oct. 3, 2001. Not long after, her donated organs, including her heart, went to work in seven bodies.
Less than 300 miles from Lockwood, Valerie''s 18 to 24 month wait for a lung transplant was almost over.
It was about time, too. Valerie''s lungs were enflamed and filled with pus. She weighed a mere 86 pounds and had been in and out of the intensive care unit at Barnes-Jewish Hospital in St. Louis.
For most of her life, Valerie lived as normally as a person with CF can. CF is an inherited, chronic disease that, according to the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation, "clogs the lungs and leads to life-threatening lung infections.
"It also obstructs the pancreas and stops natural enzymes from helping the body break down and absorb food."
And according to the CFF, the disease cuts a patient''s life span to an average of 37 years - that is, if a patient doesn''t get a transplant.
Valerie knew she''d get her transplant about 7 p.m. on Oct. 3. That''s when Valerie''s pre-transplant coordinator walked into her hospital room, where Valerie and her husband, Rick, were watching a hockey game.
"Are you ready for some lungs?" the woman asked.
Rick''s a nurse, so Valerie always figured that when they finally heard the good news, he''d be the calm one. He wasn''t. He popped up and down out of his seat to the point the coordinator asked him, "Are you all right?"
Valerie recalled of the moment, "I was the one ready because I was so sick that I knew that this had to be it - or else."
Just before she entered the operating room, Valerie told her gathered loved ones, "This isn''t goodbye. This is I''ll see you later."
Less than five hours later, a weary Valerie opened her eyes a crack when she gave the thumbs up to her family standing waiting at a nearby window. Then the docs knocked her out again.
Once Valerie ultimately stepped out of the hospital, she could finally inhale fresh air thanks to, well, she didn''t actually know.
Before Thanksgiving, a Precious Moments postcard arrived in the mail from Colbey''s mother. And so began a series of letters written back and forth between two women indelibly linked by one girl.
Among the topics that came up in their conversations was how Valerie and Colbey both loved the color purple. And both wanted to be a cosmetologist or a photographer when they grew up.
"Valerie and Colbey had so much in common," Stacey said. "They would have been best of friends."
Looking back on why she wanted to get to know the woman who received her daughter''s lungs, Stacey said, "I can''t understand anybody not wanting to do that.
"I mean, that''s what got me through, just knowing at first that Colbey was a part of her - all of them, for that fact."
Since the pair first met, their families have spent each Christmas together. And, over the years, Valerie has come to consider Colbey''s little brother, Keaton, a brother, too.
These days, Valerie trains at the gym to bolster her immune system and to prepare for the Transplant Games. Plus, all those treadmill miles and ab exercises might come in handy at the "Second Chance Celebrity Softball Game," presented by the Oklahoma Donor Coalition on April 25.
As far as the future goes, Valerie hopes to bring home a Transplant Games medal for the first time. She''d also like to ride a horse - something she hasn''t done in so long. She''d also like to fly a kite with her niece, Ryleigh.
They''re simple goals, yes, but like so many things in Valerie''s life, she could never have done them if it weren''t for a girl named Colbey, who she gives thanks for every day.
Once Valerie stepped out of the pool, dressed and then made her way out to her white Camaro, one spied her front license plate, which says a lot in a tiny space:
Organ donation works.
Double lung recipient.
Thanks Colbey.
Playing for a cause
Cheryl Manley is the Team Oklahoma manager who will join Valerie Vandervort-Boyer and several other athletes when they travel to the U.S. Transplant Games in July. Manley''s also a mother who lost her daughter to a car accident more than a decade ago.
Yet, her daughter''s donated organs help people to this day, so Manley knows the power of organ donation.
"From my perspective, watching recipients like Valerie living life to its fullest after transplantation not only inspires me to triumph over the pitfalls of life, but it reinforces our decision to donate when we lost our daughter," she explained. "Organ donation works. It not only saves lives but it literally gives a second chance at living."
Before Team Oklahoma heads to Pittsburgh for the July 11-16 games, each athlete will have to raise an estimated $1,200.
For more information about the team, call (918) 496- 7409.
As for the Oklahoma Donor Coalition''s "Second Chance Celebrity Softball Game," which Valerie will participate in, the game starts at 7 p.m. April 25 at the All Star Sports Complex, 10309 E. 61st Street. Admission is free.
For more information about the game, contact Pat Huddleston at LifeShare Transplant Donor Services at (918) 747-8214.