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…
Blooming Hope – a Column by Anna Jeter
“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…
When I was 6 years old, I was entered into a clinical trial for Tracleer (bosentan). At the time, the pulmonary hypertension (PH) community was pushing to have this drug approved for pediatric use, which made me an ideal candidate. Twenty years later, this drug is a…
In the spring of 1999, at the age of 3, I developed a hoarse voice. My mother thought that maybe I had a cold, so she brought me to my pediatrician for a checkup, expecting a prescription for antibiotics at most. This was the first of many misunderstandings about my…
Nothing makes me crankier than walking into the ER any time after 9 p.m. Lying on a stretcher that feels more like cardboard than a mattress, with fluorescent lights burning a headache into my temples, will have me missing my bed at home in an instant. It’s an experience I’ve…
I take note of several things as I walk the familiar route through the three different hospital wards on my floor. Pushing an IV pole, my eyes scan my surroundings as Taylor Swift sings loudly in my oversized headphones — the universal alert that says, “Please don’t talk to me.”…
“And if the oral antibiotic doesn’t work, they did mention they might want to do an IV antibiotic with a PICC line. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” My mom reluctantly tacked this onto the end of our discussion. She had been summarizing a conversation…
Four weeks before I entered my freshman year of college, I was being evaluated for a heart-lung transplant due to pulmonary hypertension (PH). Little did I know that I would spend the next four years managing these very separate journeys alongside each other. During this time, I think…
