Turning 30 has me reflecting on the precarious nature of life

In my early 20s, I had the opportunity to participate in an interactive photo shoot. The photographer asked her subjects questions about our lives and then captured our emotional responses. There was much laughter and thoughtfulness among our group.

During my portion of the session, the photographer asked, “Where do you see yourself 10 years from now?” Abruptly, I broke into tears.

I’m not sure when in my life I fully understood my terminal diagnosis of pulmonary hypertension (PH). It was probably sometime in middle school. I know for sure that the night before my 15th birthday was the first time my mother verbally acknowledged it. But it seems like the weight of that reality was with me from early on, almost as if it were part of my DNA.

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As a child, I struggled to think about my future. I could never picture myself more than a few weeks down the road. Every experience felt fragile. By college, I had the invasive and recurring thought that any holiday or birthday might be my last.

So at 23, there I sat, being asked where I saw myself in 10 years. As tears flooded my eyes, the photographer asked what had prompted my emotional response, which had surprised her. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but the truth was that I believed I’d be dead in 10 years.

Anna Jeter, center, celebrates her 30th birthday with siblings Maggie, far left, and Wyatt, second from right, and parents Laurie and Mark. (Courtesy of Anna Jeter)

This interaction occurred right before I had a heart and lung transplant. In some ways, things have become even more precarious since then. While I no longer have the same prognosis, I still have a similar terminal mindset. Transplanted organs, especially lungs, don’t last forever, and it seems like sooner rather than later I’ll be facing the same problems I did before. More than anything, it feels like my circumstances have conditioned me to view my life in a limited context, regardless of my health status.

This manner of thinking isn’t ideal, of course, but it comes with some benefits. The greatest one is that I can appreciate the especially good days when they happen.

After a frustrating couple of months in which my health prevented me from attending meaningful events, one important thing finally came to fruition. On June 8, I celebrated my 30th birthday with over 40 of my closest friends and family members. It was an incredible way to commemorate my life thus far and express my gratitude to the wonderful people who have supported me along the way.

My feelings about turning 30 are complex. They include grief, gratitude, wonder, and numerous questions about why my life turned out this way. It’s almost overwhelming to start a decade I never expected to see. In some ways, it feels like a marker for a new point in my life, challenging me to create goals that I’ve avoided in the past.

Ultimately, I know it’s a miracle for me to still be alive 26 years after my diagnosis. For that reason, I’m happy to celebrate.

Note: Pulmonary Hypertension News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Pulmonary Hypertension News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to pulmonary hypertension.