Anna is an artist and writer based in Minnesota. Diagnosed with pulmonary hypertension at the age of 4, she fought for 19 years before receiving a lifesaving heart-lung transplant in 2018. Despite complications following transplant, she was discharged back home eight months later. Anna now manages life with a tracheostomy and relies on supplemental oxygen, but her life remains full of hope and wonder, which she strives to share through her writing. In addition to her role as a columnist for Pulmonary Hypertension News, Anna works as a photo editor, a photographer, and also runs her own art business.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…
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.”…
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