Never squander a second chance to start all over again
I was born with a bicuspid aortic valve. This particular heart valve is supposed to have three flaps, so it basically looks like a Mercedes-Benz logo.
My valve only had two flaps and looked like a little fish mouth (this is really how it is described). I was diagnosed at five years old and told that it wasn’t really going to be an issue.
I grew up aware that my heart looked and sounded a bit different. I had to be extra cautious when it came to sore throats and dental work, to avoid any infection that might affect my valve.
By the time I had my wisdom teeth removed at age 30, I’d been told that I didn’t need to worry about it at all.
On the 16th of January 2018, at about 9pm, while adjusting a pot plant in my dining room, I completely lost vision in my right eye.
Within minutes half of my vision returned, but it was as if a blind had been drawn across the top of my right eye. I was quite convinced that I was dehydrated or that I’d pinched a nerve in my neck.
My boyfriend didn’t want to hear my theories and told me “put on some pants, we’re going to the ER.”
I was crying and shaking so much, I could barely fill in the paperwork. I was given an anti-inflammatory injection and told to rest.
The next morning, I woke up with an extreme headache and the blackness in my vision had changed to a crackly grey.
A week later, after an MRI, CT scan, and ultrasound, I was diagnosed with a 5cm aneurysm on my aorta. An aneurysm is a bulge in a weak point in an artery.
Blood pools in the bulge and clots are formed. One of these clots found its way to my eye and that’s why I lost my vision.
I was very fortunate that the clot went to my eye and not my brain – which is a sobering thought.
In smaller arteries there is a high risk of the aneurysm bursting, but I was assured this wasn’t a concern in my case.
On the 6th of February 2018, exactly 3 weeks after the clot found its way to my eye, I had open heart surgery. I was 35 years old.
My aortic valve was replaced with a mechanical valve and the damaged part of my aorta was repaired with a synthetic graft. I was in hospital for 16 days all in all, mostly in ICU.
It might seem strange that I need to say this, but heart surgery is major. I was sedated until the following day, and only then was my breathing tube removed.
I had a catheter and numerous drips. I was on oxygen, and could not sit up on my own. It took a few days before I could walk a few steps on my own.
My vitals were being monitored constantly. I was drugged out of my mind and hallucinating rabbits.
The entire experience was painful and traumatic. I wish I could say that I turned my life around the moment I left the hospital.
Before my surgery I was healthy, my cholesterol was low, and my blood pressure was perfect. This fed into my feelings of “why me?”
For the next 10 months I coddled myself. I ate a lot of comfort food. I was afraid to put too much strain on my chest. Being on blood thinners made me afraid of mountain biking.
By the beginning of 2019 I was carrying more weight than was comfortable. My cholesterol was no longer “fine” and I was insulin resistant.
It was then that I realised I was squandering the second chance that I’d been given. Over the next year, with the help of a dietician and a lot of dog walking, I dropped 10 kg.
My cholesterol was back to healthy and I had reversed my insulin resistance. Lockdown threw me off my game for a few months, but I’m back to my pre-lockdown weight. I’ve decided to face my fears and have started proper fitness training.
Last week I cried as I tried to hold my body in the plank position for 30 seconds. It took weeks after my surgery to be able to support myself with my arms.
My mom took a photo of me smiling proudly as I did my first “press up” post-surgery. That image flooded my mind and the tears came.
(As a postscript, I did discover a few days later that I had injured my shoulder, and the stabbing pain was likely contributing to the tears!)
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