The life story of Patrick Hardison from Mississippi is nothing less than a mind-blowing one. This man is the first American who has received a face transplant back in 2015 after his face and neck were left completely disfigured during a house fire.
Patrick’s life was a great one up until the day the tragedy struck in 2001.
He worked as a volunteer firefighter earlier in his life, so when he got called to help with a house fire, he didn’t hesitate. Sadly, once he entered the burning place, it collapsed on top of him and trapped him. He couldn’t move and his torso and face were severely burnt.
“[My mask] was melting to my face,” Patrick recalled. “My hose [was] already melted.”
“For somebody who does what we do for a living, I’ve never seen anybody burned that bad that was still alive,” friend and first responder Jimmy Neal told CBS News of seeing Patrick after the accident.
Patrick suffered third degree burns on his face and scalp. He also sustained burns to his head, neck, and upper torso. The fire also claimed his ears, lips, most of his nose, and even most of his eyelid tissue.
“I didn’t actually see myself until probably November. I got injured in September,” Patrick told Fox News. “They had cut a little pinhole in one of my eyelids because they had everything covered, skin graft. I looked in the mirror and all I could do, I said, ‘this is it? I can’t do this,’” he recalled.
Over the years, this man was forced to undergo over 70 surgeries, as well as other procedures. He couldn’t close his eyes and doctors were able to put together flaps of skin to protect his vision, but he was still facing the risk of going blind.
Patrick couldn’t eat without feeling excruciating pain. He just couldn’t get used to this life because he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror. Wherever he went, everyone starred at him, and he could barely stand being around people, even his children.
In order to hide and protect himself, Patrick wore sunglasses and a baseball cap all the time. He also had ear prosthetic.
“I had kids. It was just a tough time. I never got a day off from the injury. When you walk out in public, it was daily. And, you know, it’s just so — there’s no way to explain everything,” he told Yahoo! Sports.
“You go to the ball field, you have to prepare yourself for the kid that goes running off screaming.”
Years went by and Patrick lost hope of ever having a normal life. But then, French woman named Isabelle Dinoire received a partial face transplant after her face was severely disfigured by her pet dog. This procedure was revolutionary. It was the first ever of that kind. Surely, it gave a glimpse of hope to Patrick who at that point was truly struggling.
Patrick met doctor Eduardo D. Rodriguez from the NYU Langone Medical Center in New York who told him he would do the transplant surgery if they find a matching donor. It wasn’t easy, but one day, out of the blue, a donor appeared. LiveOnNY, a nonprofit that coordinates organ donations in the New York area, had found a match. The face Patrick was about to get belonged to 26-year-old David Rodebaugh who had sustained a massive head injury in a bike accident and had been declared brain dead.
This young man’s mother, Nancy Millar, decided to donate her son’s organs, including his face. “I said, ‘You better save his face. He has the face of a porcelain doll.’ And he’s a donor — we had talked about it,” Millar told People.
The thought of someone receiving her son’s face meant that David would continue to live on through the people whose lives he was about to save, including Patrick’s.
“When I met Patrick, I saw this strength, this strong, manly, burly kind of energy in him — that David had,” Nancy recalled.
“David wanted to be a firefighter, an I knew if this guy was a firefighter — he was willing to walk into a fire to save people and risk his own life — then he had the strength that David had.”
Finally, the day of the transplant surgery had arrived. The procedure lasted for 26 long hours and was performed by a team of 100 professionals.
The risk was enormous and Patrick was given a 50/50 percent chance of survival. Luckily, it was a huge success. Patrick received a new face, scalp, ears, and ear canals. He also received eyelids which allowed him to blink naturally and save his vision.
“Everything in life has a risk,” Patrick told Time Magazine.
“When it’s your time to go, you’ll go—whether you’re walking down the street and get hit by a car or you’re lying on the operating table.”
After he recovered from the swelling and he learned how to talk and swallow again, Patrick met his donor’s mother. Nancy only had one request, to kiss Patrick on the forehead.
“I said, ‘Can I kiss your forehead?’” Nancy said. “That’s the one thing I wanted to do because every night before David went to bed when he was little, I kissed his forehead.”
“I’ve been waiting a year to meet her. I’m just very grateful,” Patrick added. “Without her, it wouldn’t have been possible. It’s like she’s family. We connected that easily.”
Ever since the surgery, Patrick is taking anti-rejection drugs that prevent his immune system from rejecting the face, but he’s thriving. He didn’t only receive a new face but a new life too.
Today, he is divorced and is working on a book which he hopes would serve as an inspiration to anyone who believes there is no way out from the situation they have found themselves in. “Because I want to show the world that you can have hope. I wouldn’t want people that were like me years ago to think that’s it, I have to live like this. You don’t. You can accomplish anything,” Patrick says.
His survival and his recovery are dubbed miraculous. Thanks to Nancy, Dr. Rodriguez and his team, and Patrick’s strong will, today, he is a happy man.
Cashier Mocks Elderly, Low-Income Woman – Fate Intervenes, Transforming Her Life Profoundly
Not too long ago, on a routine trip to the neighborhood grocery shop, I had a series of encounters that turned my life completely upside down. The cashier on this particular day treated me with a level of disrespect that was unexpected and unpleasant, probably due to personal sorrow or prejudice stemming from my lowly appearance. In the end, this traumatic experience taught me a profound and life-changing lesson that I feel obligated to impart to others.
Though most people who know me refer to me as Maggie, my name is Margaret. Having moved away from my family and now living alone, I now consider the simple pleasure of a fresh bun—which I had ventured to the grocery for on that fateful day—to be a little but meaningful indulgence. My ordinarily peaceful days are somewhat cheered up by these small pleasures.
I was shocked and disappointed to see that I had misplaced the two dollars I needed to finish my transaction when I got to the checkout. I started hurriedly digging through my purse for any spare change that may work, completely overwhelmed with panic.
The cashier gave me a mocking, impatient look as she saw my desperate quest. Old lady, hurry up. She said harshly, “Stop wasting our time if you can’t afford it. Her words sliced through me, making me feel even more embarrassed as I was burdened by other customers’ critical looks. I felt a thick quiet descend upon me as embarrassment blazed across my face.
I was about to give up, feeling hopeless and overwhelmed by the whole thing, when something unexpected happened. A display of canned goods was knocked over by the cashier, who was so eager to get rid of me and help the next client. Everyone’s focus was momentarily diverted from me to the mess by the loud clatter of the cans as they hit the floor.
As the chaos started, a worried client said, “Watch out!” Now clearly agitated, the cashier rushed to pick up the cans but, in her haste, tripped and fell, bringing attention to herself even more. For a moment, I was relieved of the humiliation I was feeling because of this chaotic event.
A good-natured stranger moved forward as the store took a minute to take in the scene. Having seen the entire encounter, he approached to offer his assistance out of compassion. “Please, allow me to purchase this bun for you,” he added, smiling softly as if to alleviate some of the harshness I had just encountered. He then extended the bun in my direction.
I was grateful for his compassion and experienced a slight sense of validation that the cashier’s impolite behavior had not gone undetected. I managed to add, “Thank you so very much,” my voice quivering a little from a mixture of relief and appreciation. “You don’t know how much this means to me right now.”
“There’s really no issue at all,” he comforted me. “By the way, my name is John.”
I answered, “Margaret, but please call me Maggie,” feeling a little lighter as his generosity broke through the darkness of the earlier moments.
That’s when John started genuinely caring about me. “Do you live nearby?” he worriedly asked.
Indeed, I answered, “just around the corner.” “Now that I’m single, my family has moved on without me.”
John said, “That’s hard to hear,” with sympathy. “What were your activities prior to retiring?”
“I taught chemistry,” I said, experiencing a brief moment of pride for the first time in a long time.
John’s curiosity caused his eyes to expand. “Wow, that is amazing! My girls are having a lot of difficulty in their chemistry classes as they pursue their medical degrees. With hope, he inquired, “Would you be interested in tutoring them?”
My surprise was caused by the proposition. I hadn’t taught in years, so the idea of rekindling my love of chemistry and the classroom was both thrilling and intimidating. I said, “I would be honored,” feeling a glimmer of excitement flare up within of me. “It would be amazing to connect with young minds that are eager to learn and to feel useful again.”
“It’s amazing!” John shouted. “Let’s trade contact details. I hope to see you soon, along with Sarah and Emily. They would really benefit from your knowledge.
After exchanging phone numbers, John graciously offered to drive me home. We talked further about my previous experiences as a teacher and his children’ academic aspirations and challenges while we drove. I felt like I had made a new friend by the time he left me off at my humble home; someone who valued me more than my age or my financial situation.
I added, “Thank you once more, John,” as I got out of his vehicle. You’ve given me more than simply a bun today. I feel like I have a purpose again because of you.
“You’re welcome, Maggie,” he smiled warmly in response. “I’ll give you a call shortly to set up the initial tutoring session time.”
With a renewed sense of optimism and expectation, I watched him drive off. I felt appreciated and could see a way forward where I could once again make a significant contribution for the first time in a very long time.
I experienced a profound sensation of rejuvenation as soon as I entered my home. I proceeded to my bedroom and unlocked my wardrobe, revealing my former teaching attire. They were still in good shape, tucked in nicely like they were just waiting to be put to use. I picked out a crisp blouse and skirt, and as I put on my clothes, enthusiasm and nostalgia for my teaching days returned. It seemed as though I was resuming a function that had previously defined me and that I had assumed had been abandoned but was now emerging as a guiding light for the future.
I visited with Sarah and Emily, John’s daughters, the following day. They were intelligent, motivated students who were ready to take in all I had to teach them. I was so happy and satisfied tutoring them that it made me remember why I had loved teaching for so long. As we dug further into the nuances of chemistry over the course of the weeks, I saw a marked improvement in their comprehension and confidence.
“Maggie, my chemistry test result was A+!” One afternoon, Sarah said, her face glowing with accomplishment and satisfaction.
That’s fantastic, Sarah! I responded with a wave of pride in myself, saying, “I knew you could do it.” Observing their development was immensely satisfying, and news of my tutoring’s influence quickly circulated across the neighborhood.
Could you also tutor my son, Mrs. Maggie? One day, a concerned and sincere neighbor asked, “He’s having trouble in his science classes.”
The chance to increase my impact and assist additional youngsters touched my heart, so I said, “Of course, I’d be happy to help.”
My little house quickly became into a hive of activity, laughing and learning, full with young minds ready to succeed. I had restored my identity as a respected teacher who was improving the lives of others; I was no longer just the lonely grandma who had trouble at the grocery store.
John gave him a ring one evening to see how his daughters were doing. His voice was full of thanks as he replied, “Maggie, I can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing for Sarah and Emily.”
John, it’s a pleasure for me. I responded, thinking back on how much my life had changed since our accidental meeting at the grocery. “They’re wonderful girls, and I’m so glad I can help,” I said.
I gazed about my bustling home, which was suddenly full of pupils and the hum of learning, as I hung up the phone. I accepted that I had been given another chance at life and resolved to seize any moment I had to mentor and uplift others.
One day, full of pride and confidence, I made the decision to go back to the same store where it all started. I was curious to observe the cashier’s reaction when I bought another bun.
It was the same cashier I had seen earlier, as I walked up to the counter. I made sure to stay a little while longer, seeming to look in my handbag for cash once again. But the cashier’s demeanor was noticeably different this time.
“Ma’am, take your time. Is there anything more I can do to assist you? In sharp contrast to our last conversation, she asked in a courteous, calm tone.
“No, thank you,” I answered, giving her the cash for the bun while feeling both happy and thoughtful about the harsh truth that appearances frequently lead to judgment.
I thought about the important lesson I had learned as I left the store: the power of compassion and understanding to change not just individual lives but entire communities. I made the decision to keep imparting these ideals to my kids in the hopes of encouraging them to see past appearances and recognize the complexity of each person’s unique story.
I had find my passion and purpose through this journey, which was started by a small act of kindness and an unanticipated change in my life. I was dedicated to promoting compassion and empathy as a teacher once more, making sure that every student I came into contact with learnt to place more emphasis on a person’s inner qualities than on their external looks.
This metamorphosis involved more than just going back to work; it involved resurrecting a crucial aspect of myself that had been neglected. It served as a reminder that you can always make a difference in both your own and other people’s lives.
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