Entering February with an Open Heart
For being the shortest month of them all, there sure are a lot of important things going on in February. Among them, we have Black History Month, Valentine’s Day, and Heart Month. In the middle of the winter blues, we have dedicated a month to love, taking care of ourselves, and taking care of our neighbours. I truly think these things are what life is all about.
For me, February can also be somewhat stressful. Not just because I’m knee deep in snow and restless for summer, but because, as a heart transplant recipient, sometimes I feel pressure to be part of the Heart Month conversation.
I consider myself to be someone who has experienced a good amount of medical trauma and sometimes I have a hard time talking about it. As I’ve mentioned before, sometimes I just want to hide and be normal. With the type of medical experience I’ve had, I can pretend it never happened. It doesn’t show on the outside. Escape is easy. But when is easy ever really the right thing to do?
At the end of January, I had this incredible opportunity to stand up in front of a group of people and share some of my experience as a heart transplant recipient. I was scared but I knew I had to do it. I had to go up and speak to the people who saved me, and in doing so, helped shape who I am today. The time had finally come for me to look right into their faces and say thank you.
That experience changed my life.
I had thought about what to say for months, no, years. I had always wondered what I would say to them if I had the chance. This felt like the opportunity of a lifetime and it came at an important milestone for both of us. While the Heart Institute celebrates 50 years, I am commemorating 25 years as a heart transplant recipient and 25 years as a patient of theirs. That’s how I started my speech. That was maybe the easiest part.
I then went on to tell the truth. I find it important to not hide our hurt or our pain. So, I let them know that even though I’m all grown up and even though I’ve been doing this for a very long time, for most of my life even, I find it very difficult to go there.
The thing is, heart disease found me. It found a healthy 13-year-old girl who danced three times a week, played soccer in the summer, loved gym class more than any other, tried out for the school soccer team, and feels the safest while in the water. It found the kid who was the top of her class, the kid who ate well, didn’t have too much stress, had big hopes and dreams, and a supportive solid home life. I was in no way the best candidate for heart disease.
My heart disease even tricked the doctors. They thought I had pneumonia. That’s how fast and sudden it was. An x-ray revealed it was more than that and within days I woke up at the Heart Institute on a LVAD. I didn’t know where I was or what happened. Everything changed.
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The Heart Institute is where I lost my heart. It’s where everything I knew changed. It is home to the hardest thing I have ever endured. It is where I became a lifelong patient. It’s where I felt real pain for the very first time. For the longest time, I couldn’t even call it by name, I simply called it “that place” and the people closest to me understood what that meant.
Everything I thought I was, shifted. The person I was going to be evaporated into thin air. It felt like my identity had been taken from me. It was hard to believe that it wasn’t that place that did this to me. But it wasn’t. It was heart disease. That is what is truly to blame.
The Heart Institute never took anything from me. It felt like it. I even told them that. It felt like the place where my heart broke. That’s just not the truth. The Heart Institute gave me something no one else could; my life.
I never had the opportunity to fight off heart disease. It came out of nowhere and nearly killed me. When the Heart Institute got to me, I was barely alive. Despite the odds my parents had been given, they brought me back. It took a new heart and the gift of life to do it; my own heart didn’t survive. If I had the opportunity to fight, I would have done whatever it takes to win.
I know what I’m saying might seem very scary. Honestly, it is. It’s terrifying to have your life change. It’s terrifying to learn that you may be at risk. It’s hard to make changes and it’s hard to try to fight for your health. I promise it’s ok to be scared.
Heart disease took a lot. But it will never take who I am. It will never steal my identity from me. It can’t. It’s powerful but not that powerful. But we can’t fight it alone.
The most important thing I’ve learned in the past 25 years is to trust the people who are there to help you. We have this incredible Heart Institute here in Canada. Their mission is to take care of people like me and they do it every day.
Heart health doesn’t have to be stressful. Neither does Heart Month. February should be a time for love and celebration. If you have any concern, get it checked out. Let the experts take care of you. It’s worth it.
When presenting my speech in January, I realized something that I didn’t really understand before: that my story matters. In fact, it’s important. So is yours. Our experiences help people, probably more than we will ever know.
That’s why I’m choosing not to hide this February. If you have a story, I hope you’ll share it. I would love to hear it. ❤
Originally published at https://lifeafterahearttransplant.substack.com.
