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Classic symptoms: pain from my neck down my left arm, couldn't get a whole breath, dry cough, brain fog. The ER doctor said my blood tests were normal and my heart was like an 18 year old's. Sent me home with Tylenol and Tums. The next morning I couldn't get out of bed. My husband had to carry me to the car. Turns out I was having a widow maker heart attack — only 2% survive that one...
My doctor switched me to Effexor. After a month of side effects, he told me to just stop taking it and go back to my old meds. What followed was the worst experience of my life. Sweating through a shirt every 15 minutes, had to call my husband home to lock up the guns. Called my doctor — 'you're seeing a psychiatrist now, can't help.' Called my psychiatrist — 'I didn't prescribe it, can't help.' Nobody would help me...
Between my first and second heart surgery I could no longer walk 15 feet without excruciating pain. A statin allergy had been in my medical records for over 10 years. But they kept insisting I HAD to take them. They made me try 2 more statins just to 'prove' I was allergic. I spent 3 years needing a mobility cart just to get groceries...
I was diagnosed with atrial tachycardia and scheduled for an ablation. But one night, everything went black. No sound, no color, no thought. Then an explosion inside me — and everything came back. The next morning my heart didn't feel tired anymore. I told every nurse and doctor at the surgery appointment. Nobody believed me until the surgeon finally listened for 5 minutes. My heart was perfect...
After surviving back-to-back-to-back heart attacks — including a widow maker that only 2% survive — I didn't feel lucky. I felt guilty. Why me? Why did I get to live? I had to get therapy for surviving. Nobody tells you about that part. It's like anyone who survives something others don't — a shooting, a shipwreck, a crash. Your body lived but your mind needs time to catch up...
After years of being told to just diet and exercise, I took control of my own health journey. Down 130 pounds and off all my diabetes medication. Here's what I wish I'd known sooner...
By my third baby, I knew exactly what it felt like to have to push. But here's the thing — I never had normal labor pains. Not once. Every time I had a contraction, I had to pee. The nurse said I was only 3cm and had a LONG way to go. She took me to the bathroom and walked out. Then I started yelling ‘the baby is coming!’ She came back explaining that the baby can't be coming yet, put her hand down to check, and started screaming ‘GET BACK IN BED!’ A student doctor caught my daughter. I called it bladder labor — nobody in that hospital had ever heard of it...
My first appointment at Brigham & Women's in Boston gave me a due date of August 27. I moved back home to Wisconsin at 6 months pregnant and my new doctor said September 5. My daughter was born October 7 after being induced with Pitocin — and she was only 6 pounds 7 ounces. If she was really that late, she should have been much bigger. Something was seriously wrong with that estimate, and nobody caught it. Oh, and I was already delivering before my doctor got back in the room because they told me I was only 3cm and didn't believe I needed to push...
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