This column describes the author’s own experiences with some prescription and over-the-counter drugs. Not everyone will have the same response to treatment. Consult your doctor before starting or stopping a therapy. When I was in college, I always had a Ricola cough drop on hand. They littered my…
When I was 3 years old, my family temporarily moved to Michigan because of my dad’s work. A year later, while we were still there, I was diagnosed with pulmonary hypertension (PH). It was overwhelming to receive such life-changing news at a time when we were removed from family,…
The years since my heart-lung transplant due to pulmonary hypertension have passed with fluctuating clarity. Some seasons have been rapid or insignificant, blurring one into another. Others remain in my mind, fixed in sharp definition — as if a part of me is still arrested in those moments.
One of the first things my parents were told when I received a pulmonary hypertension (PH) diagnosis at the age of 4 was that I wouldn’t be able to have children. My mom thought this was an absurd topic to bring up, given that the same doctors didn’t…
When I was in elementary school, my mom had two hopes for my growth trajectory. She wanted me to be able to fit into a size 6 shoe, and she hoped I would reach 5 feet tall. I’m happy to report I surpassed both goals once my growth spurt hit…
When I was in the fourth grade, our entire town lost power for two or three days. This event coincided with both the last day of school and my birthday. It was so much fun, I thought at the time. The ultimate adventure. My best friend slept over two nights…
My sister and I have been listening to Taylor Swift together for years. On the whole, we’re two very different people who used to struggle to find common ground, so it’s pretty special that Swift’s music is one of the few things we’ve been able to agree on, time and…
“Mom? My heart rate is really slow.” I remember this moment clearly. In a time of poor health due to my pulmonary hypertension, there was a day when my heart, which was typically pounding, slowed to a quiet crawl. We were scheduled for a routine checkup the…
I take note of my slight breathlessness and increased heart rate as I dab some blush on my cheeks. I inhale a few deep breaths before standing up to put on my dress. I sit again to put on my shoes and then check the time. After another few deep…
In my childhood home, we didn’t have a coat closet. Or, to be more specific, we did have a coat closet, but the space was overtaken by a higher priority. Instead of holding winter jackets, it was packed full of medical supplies. A tower of mismatched storage bins and cardboard…
Every few months, a viral video circulates. It features a father who has a chance to listen to his son’s heart, now living in a stranger’s chest. Or a daughter who valiantly offers a kidney to her ailing father. Or maybe the story of a long-term transplant survivor who is…
In the wake of a recent hospitalization, my life has quickly become dominated by new medications and treatment regimens. In addition to my physical recovery, which includes a focus on eating, hydration, and movement, I’m now filling the rest of my time with additional therapies, including vest and nebulizer…
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