Ten years ago this month I had open heart surgery.  It’s so crazy to me, that I’ve had this blog for eight years, and that I’ve shared bits and pieces of my heart story here.  A few people expressed interest in the whole story, and an update, so I thought it was as good time for that.

When I was a little girl and I would be nervous or worked up, my heart literally would make noise outside of my chest.  It started around 12 and lessened as I got older, though I can remember dating JB just before all of this happened, and him being able to hear it.  They never really figured that part out, but I did go to specialists to figure it out.  One specialist thought I had LONG QT, which does not have a great prognosis.  Had my mother sick and worried for a very long year.  But then the more specialists we sought they believed I just had mitral valve prolapse.  I had to wear a (huge) heart monitor to school – so pretty much every jr. high school girls dream.  (; As if I wasn’t awkward enough! ha.  Anyway with the diagnosis of mitral valve prolapse, it wasn’t so scary, they said I may have complications later on but most people with this live their life with no problem.  There are symptoms to it that aren’t great, but this was very good news as opposed to the first diagnosis.  I definitely experienced those symptoms from then on out – anxiety, chest pain, an irregular heart beat, and still my loud heartbeat at times.

But life was “normal”.  I went to college, taught school, had just started dating JB, was so into health at that time, and in my second year of teaching.  Then I started feeling really sick.  It started in January, and I went to the doctor.  I had strep throat, got on antibiotics, and thought that was it.  But even after the treatment, I still wasn’t feeling myself.  The Strep had traveled to my heart and latched onto my mitral valve and started growing (but it would be a while until I knew this).  I had terrible headaches.  Before all of this I would rarely ever take an ibprofen, but then it started to be that I couldn’t not take it and function.  One day I had my first mini stroke … I was laying down and as I rose my vision left and I couldn’t walk.  That was scary to say the least.  My friends came and got me, and we went to an eye dr who was super kind with me, and said it could be a number of things.  Around this time I started getting intense night sweats, while also feeling freezing. I literally could not get warm.  So I came home to go to the doctors since we had more doctor connections at home.  I was here for a couple weeks and went to a few doctors where they couldn’t find anything.  It was bizarre, because there would be times where I would feel mostly fine during the day.  But then night would come, and I was literally sweating through sheets after sheets.  I had another mini stroke, and went into the emergency room.  I got a dr that told me I was fine, that “hospitals are for sick people”.  And I left feeling like I was losing my mind.

Then I had a terrible night and my parents and I were pretty desperate, and frustrated no one could figure it out.  I was really starting to feel so hopeless, and useless.  My family reached out to a family friend who was a GP.  He ordered an echo right away, and as soon as he read the results he called to say I needed to come to the hospital immediately to be admitted.  I learned I had endocarditis – which is an infection of the heart.  If you watch medical shows like House, Chicago Med, etc… they always have at least one episode with someone having endocarditis.  Sometimes these can be treated by antibiotics, and sometimes they can’t.  They ruled pretty quickly after transesophageal echo that I needed to have open heart surgery.  Strep had nearly ruined my valve, and their was a high risk of stroke, not just a mini stroke.  First I had to have a pic line put in, for daily IV antibiotics, to get the strep under control.  After two weeks of IV antibiotics I had open heart surgery.  I had chosen to have a pig valve vs a mechanical because they didn’t believe pregnancy would be possible at that time (it now is) with a mechanical valve.   A pig valve would mean I would have to have open heart surgery in the future as they don’t last.  They said there was a small chance that they would be able to implant a device, and salvage part of my valve.  Thankfully, that small chance happened for my case.  The following days of recovery were a blur.  It was awful having the chest tubes in.  But I was released after a few days to go home and recover.  I still had to go get IV antibiotics every day for the next month and a half.  About a month passed, and I still wasn’t recovering well.  I went into the hospital because I felt I could not breath.  My lungs had filled up with fluid almost completely, and because the blood had just sat there on them it had badly damaged them.  I got a code called on me as my oxygen level was dangerously low – that was intense!  I had the blood drained off of my lungs, and it was determined that I had to have another major surgery.  A thoracotomy.  It sounds innocent enough but it was five times more painful than heart surgery.  Though after recovery, I started to finally feel better.  I did my laps around my parents pool, felt stronger and stronger every day.  Mentally it was difficult.  I was 24, and my friends were living the life of a 24 year old.   They were (and are!) wonderful friends, truly, I could not have asked for more support from my friends.  But life goes on, and for me it didn’t feel quite like it was.  It was easy to give into self pity then.  I really didn’t know what was next for me.  Before all of this I had applied to a teach for america program but for New Orleans and had passed my initial interviews and was supposed to go on more there.  But toward the end of my recovery I went on a trip with my sister to decide if she wanted to go to Ole Miss.  I loved it there too.  I randomly looked at their grad programs, and the health promotion one stood out to me.  We were staying in a hotel, when I randomly emailed the head of that program at the time.  Telling her my story, and how I was interested in learning more.  This was literally June of that year.  She emailed me back telling me about a grad student position that fall in cardiac rehab that they had, with a full scholarship available in health promotion + stipend … and if my grades, GRE, letters of rec all checked out, it might be a good fit for me.  How random, right?  But I now know nothing is random with God.  I took my GRE, and in July I was awarded the scholarship.  I moved at the end of July to Oxford, MS to start my masters.  At the time though I mentally and physically wasn’t ready for it.  I had lost 20 pounds from the start of all of this to the end.  I just wasn’t strong mentally, emotionally, and physically.  I wasn’t over the beginning of that year.  But sometimes you just have to go for it, pull yourself up and do it.  even though my mind and body was not even close to 100%.  With my internship I worked with patients after they had open heart surgery or a heart event to get back in shape and improve their heart health.  I prepped patients for what to expect after their heart surgery, and showing them my fresh scar and telling them my story was good for both of us.  It was absolutely a time of healing and growth for me.

You may already know the rest of the story.  I got engaged, married, started this blog, moved to switzerland, moved back home,  completed my masters, started a career and ended a career, had two sweet baby boys … Life went on in a more beautiful way than I had the sense to imagine for myself.

I couldn’t be more thankful that today I’m doing well.  I do monitor it closely, and go to the cardiologist yearly- but I’m doing good- and my heart isn’t “loud” anymore!   God has given me back the years the locust took.  ten fold.  Knowing the severity of everything as time has gone on, particularly the mini strokes and how easily they could have been much worse, I know how much He protected me from that.  I’m pretty much just like you, but I have scars down my chest and along my back.  Something I’m proud of and serve as a reminder every day that My God is (infinitely) bigger than what was trying to hurt me.  And bigger than whatever hair brained “problem” I have going on at any given minute.

In every way I’m grateful for that time.  It gave me perspective.  It gave me courage.  It gave me a new path.

**ps:  jb was a LITERAL saint during the time.  thanks for seeing me at my absolute worst and still putting a ring on it*

*pps:  If you have any questions email me or comment below, I’m happy to answer*