A Milestone of Hope: Patient Celebrates Graduation at Packard Children’s as He Waits for a Heart Transplant

For 20-year-old Spencer Rollins, graduation day looked different than he and his parents had imagined. Instead of walking across a traditional school stage, he celebrated inside Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital Stanford, surrounded by his family, teachers, and the health care team that has supported him through more than 220 days in the hospital as he waits for a heart transplant.

For Spencer, that makes the milestone even more meaningful. “It is special to me that people see what I’m going through,” he said. “I don’t know anyone else who’s graduated from the hospital, so that’s very special.”

The individual graduation ceremony hosted for a patient marks a first in the children’s hospital’s 35-year history as well. Packard Children’s, which opened in 1991, honored Spencer as he received a Certificate of Completion from Compass Charter School, a California hybrid program that supported his education alongside the Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital School Program.

Spencer was born with hypoplastic left heart syndrome, a complex congenital heart condition. His medical journey began almost immediately, according to his parents, Andy and Katie Rollins. “He was born undiagnosed; then we rushed him back to the hospital during his first night at home when he became extremely lethargic,” said Andy. “He was transferred and flown out of state for his first critical surgery.”

Over the years, Spencer has undergone six heart surgeries and multiple interventions. During one surgery, he suffered a massive stroke that left him blind, paralyzed, and unable to eat or speak. His recovery was long and difficult, but his parents describe him as consistently happy, composed, and determined.

“We didn’t think two decades was possible and definitely didn’t envision that he’d graduate from high school,” said Andy.

Because of his health, Spencer’s education has often taken place at home, online, or in medical settings. At Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital Stanford, the hospital school became an important part of his routine and independence.

“I really liked having school here in the hospital,” said Spencer. “I couldn’t always attend public school because of my health, and sometimes having school at home and online was lonely and boring. But here I can leave my room and go to school.”

His school day had to be built around his hospital life: morning labs, weigh-ins, breakfast, vitals, and medications. At the hospital school, he studied math while continuing online coursework in subjects including speech and social studies. History is his favorite subject.

Spencer credits his teachers and care teams for helping him reach graduation day. “Everyone here at Lucile Packard has helped me become healthy enough to graduate,” he said.

For Andy and Katie, the ceremony was more than an academic milestone.

“When he was a baby, his graduation would’ve been too unthinkable and overwhelming to even dare to wish for it,” said Andy. “Our horizon for him wasn’t years. It was measured by days and weeks, or sometimes even less. Our reminder for each other was ‘baby steps.’”

The Rollins describe the hospital staff as an extension of their family, especially Spencer’s care team during this long admission. “Watching the hospital staff create this private ceremony will be a lifelong memory for us,” said Andy. “They care for him 24 hours of every day with the same consistent, selfless, and focused love. They are all amazing to us.”

As Spencer waits for a new heart, graduation offers hope for what comes next. “I was able to still graduate even though I didn’t think I could, since I was in the hospital,” Spencer said. “I am confident that I will continue to grow and get stronger.”

When thinking about the future, Spencer imagines going home, spending time with family and friends, playing soccer, visiting Lake Tahoe, breathing easier, and learning to work on cars.

“I want to leave here,” he said, “but the only way out is to go through.”

When he was asked what part of the ceremony mattered most—the cap and gown, the music, the diploma moment, or the cheering staff—his answer was simple: “The people.”

“People are all that matters,” said Katie. “Ceremonies and celebrations are about human beings. Hospitals and schools are for people.” And years from now, Spencer already knows what he’ll remember: “I’ll tell my cousins that for now, I’m the only one that graduated from Stanford Medicine Children’s Health.”