Category Archives: Hearts on 22

{Survivorhood} Year Nine

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Nine.

I can still remember exactly what I was wearing on the day my world broke. Gray cardigan, white button down peasant top, jeans, and cranberry ballet flats. The shoes, I still have them. They are worn and raggedy, I just can’t let them go. Those shoes carried me in the ER and they walked me out days later. Those shoes are a symbol that I survived the worst day possible.

Every day I am reminded that four had to die so I could be the one out of five who walked away. I live each day for those who no longer can. I live each day for the women who lost their lives to the Nuvaring. Those women are my battle cry and I will not rest until there are none. Those women have given me more strength than I ever thought possible.

I survived because God, he wasn’t done with me. God knew my strength before I did. God gave me a second chance and I have cherished each day to the fullest. Fate, she’s a funny one and I know that everything I have lived through was apart of her plan. That this plan isn’t mine and only Fate knows where I am going. I cling to every drop of borrowed time and thank God for every day I rise. For I know this second life of mine is an incredible gift.

On October 22, 2009 I made a choice. A choice to not be a victim. A choice to thrive and live a life worth telling. I want a life filled with incredible experiences and stories that will keep me company when I’m old. I made a choice to stand up and be a voice against the darkness. A voice to bring awareness to a cause and educate those around me about the side effects of hormonal contraceptives. My voice will not be silenced until there are none. I have work to do and I will not rest until there are none. One day there will be none and on that day I will take off my white hat and rest.

This past year was filled with heartache and joy. I became a mama to my 3rd sleeping son. Emmett James left this world before his feet ever touched my hands. I am grateful for the experience and I am thankful to be his mom. When sadness fades to joy life begins. I got to watch Sophia and Jack turn one year older. There faces bring joy to the darkness of the night. I am grateful that I survived and get to hear their little voices say “Auntie! Auntie! Auntie!” They are my world and I am there’s.

I spent my weekends traveling form place to place with my dad at my side. No matter the destination he was game. We went to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula; Mackinac Island; The Badlands; Mount Rushmore; Crazy Horse; Wyoming; Jeffer’s Petroglyphs; Milwaukee; Racine; Hayward; Effigy Mounds National Monument; Crowing Wing State Park; Door County; Washington Island; and the North Shore. This summer we traveled more than most people do in a lifetime. Much wine and booze was bought and we have memories to last us until the end of time.

My dad isn’t the only one who got in on the road trip fun. I traded my dad in for Jay! We made our usual pilgrimage to WI Dells and we ventured west to South Dakota and Wyoming. This year was the year of travel and my heart is happy. I am the trip planner in our family. I plan and Jay just comes along for the ride. That is what I love about him, he’s up for anything as long as I’m involved.

My heart she is thankful. Thankful that I got a second chance at this thing called life. This second chance taught me to live in the moment. Fate has taught me to let the little things slide and stand up for the big things. I have more hope and faith than most people. For I’ve seen God work. Long ago I stopped asking “why me,” instead I stand up and ask “why not me.” I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason and God knows what he’s doing. Research, saved my life and it will continue to save the lives of others. We need to believe in research and fund research so that others can have my outcome. So that they too can have a chance at living in a beautiful disaster.

YEAR #9:

For the past nine years I’ve asked for motherhood. This year I am just asking to be HAPPY. Happy with myself. Happy with my work and life. I want to feel joy and give joy. I want to be that person whose happiness is addictive and strengthening. That beacon we flock to on a bad day and the one we laugh with on a good day. I simply want to be happy.

{Hearts on 22} National Stroke Awareness Month

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On October 22, 2009 I almost died five days before my 27th Birthday. I found myself in the ER unable to breath with unbearable chest pain. A CT scan revealed a clot the size of a ten cent gum ball lodged in the valve that connects my left lung to my heart. My oxygen level was below 50%, my heart was in sinus tachycardia and I was fighting for my life. To make matters worse my blood pressure kept rising and suddenly I lost my words, the staff sprung into action, TPA was administered and my life was saved. I had survived a massive pulmonary embolism with infection and a stroke due to the third generation progesterone in my birth control, the Nuvaring.

At 26 Stroke wasn’t on my radar and until that day I had no clue what a pulmonary embolism was. Strokes happened to old people not young professionals. That day taught me that strokes can happen at any age and your risk is higher if you are taking hormonal contraceptives. My OBGYN never once mentioned that my birth control could possibly kill me, she just wrote the script, shoved it in my hand and went on her merry way.

I could have spent the past almost nine years in hiding. As in not telling a soul I had a stroke because well on the outside I look perfectly normal. I was lucky, I got the clot busters in time and I walked away unscathed. Many of my survivor counterparts are not so lucky, they have physical and mental impairments. Impairments that could have been prevented if they had received treatment in time. This haunts me, some days I wonder why I was the lucky one and on other days I say “why not me!?”

This life I lead is borrowed. I wish I could say it was perfect, but it’s not. I am living a perfectly imperfect life. This second chance is mine and mine alone to live. I made the choice to live my Stroke out loud. My story and willingness to fight this battle has landed me on billboards, fashion shows, tv commercials, news paper articles, magazine articles, and in DC. Oh the places your stroke will take you. Even I have to pause for a moment and think “holy shit AJ you’ve like made a difference!” A difference I have made, because what happened to me is 100% preventable.

That’s right what happened to me was 100% preventable. I had gone to the doctor a week prior with symptoms of a blood clot in my leg. The doctor told me to “drink more water and walk more.” One week later to the day I found myself in the ER fighting for my life. If only my doctor had listened to me. All the doctor had to do was order a d-dimer test. If that test had been ordered the doctor would have caught the blood clot before it found its way to my lung and brain. It’s been almost nine years and that still gets me the most, that this, pulmonary embolism and stroke of mine was 100% preventable.

{Infertile Me} “IVF Got This”

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A couple days ago I stood in front of the fridge looking for available magnets to pin up Christmas cards. I knew on the side four magnets held our “operation embryo” calendar. September is when we started this journey. It seems like a life time ago where we spent part of our mornings carefully mixing injections and trying to find the least bruised spot on my belly. Five times. For a week I was getting five different shots a day. Three in the morning and two at night. Every prick was in hope that my follicles were growing strong eggs that would turn into our embryos.

IVF is not for everyone. It’s overwhelming and there are to many variables to count. It’s stressful. It’s painful. It’s emotional and though the bruises will fade your body will never really be the same. Fear sits with hope as you struggle to come to terms with all available outcomes. I was afraid that I wouldn’t get any or many eggs. They don’t really tell you how many eggs you have while you are stiming. They just cheerfully say “everything looks good.” I told myself “if we get five eggs I will be happy.” Anything more than five would just be a blessing.

Fifteen follicles lead to eight mature eggs. Eight. We got eight, eight incredible and non-edible eggs. Seven of the eight fertilized and three of the seven made it to blast. We have three embryos waiting for us and my heart is full. The big three leads to a new set of fears. What if they don’t take? How many should we put back? Oh god what if we put two in and get four? These questions seep in at night and I am reminded to follow my heart. Because of my age and the fact I am only doing this once we are transferring two back to me.

Two. December wasn’t meant to be our month. My anatomy proved to challenging for a proper transfer so our embryos were lulled back into a frozen state. It should be noted that the doctor almost put the big two in the wrong place. Thank God the embryologist checked the catheter and saw that we had hitch hikers. Otherwise the big two wouldn’t have had a proper chance at taking hold and growing into our baby(ies). That part scared me and the clinic has reassured me over and over again the big two are frozen with their sibling, embryo #3. No one was lost, my embryos are safe and sound.

January. January is a month of what could have been. Baby E was due in January, a winter baby you were meant to be. But Baby E was never meant to be ours and we are left with a lifetime of wonder. As the snow softly falls and temperatures drop I will be prepping my body for the big two. The big two who will lead to our take home baby(ies).

If you would have asked me three years ago “AJ would you do IVF?” I would have most likely said no. I didn’t think I was strong enough to go through it nor did I think I truly deserved a real chance at motherhood. Some days survivor’s guilt gets the better of me. Both of my children were unplanned, yet they were very much wanted. Our road to parenthood compared to others is very short. Some women try for years and spend thousands of dollars trying for a baby with no luck. Those women are the true warriors for they never give up instead they search for the next thing that will increase their chances at motherhood.

IVF, its a game really. IVF is about stacking the deck and letting God take care of the rest. Our deck is stacked. I grow a beautiful lining, my hormone levels are on point and our embryos are both 5ABs, which translate to “science did everything it could and now it’s up to fate.” Fate and I have a love hate relationship. Without her I am nothing and with her I am everything. She has left me broken, yet she healed me within the same breath. I pray with all of my heart that Fate evens the score, that some how some way the universe will let us be parents to a take home baby(ies).

IVF got this! Faith, Science, and love will get me through the next phase. Our turn, our rainbow, our take home baby(ies) is just one embryo transfer away and Fate will lead us every step of the way.

{Hearts On 22} Rally For Research

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Somewhere in this country a woman is experiencing the worst day of her life. She is in pain, she is scared, and she will never be the same. In the coming days, weeks, and months she will learn that her birth control was the cause of her worst day. That her birth control caused her stroke or heart attack or blood clot or pulmonary embolism. She knows it was her birth control because she survived. Many families never learn why their wife, mother, daughter, sister or friend suddenly died. They live their lives only knowing that she is simply gone.

Gone. If it were not for my fast acting care team, I would be resting in a little urn on a shelf. My mom literally came this close (shows fingers) to picking out my urn instead of my 27th Halloween themed birthday cake. I was lucky, I was the 1 out of 5 who survived a massive pulmonary embolism with infarction that lead to a stroke. Because of research I saw my 27th themed Halloween birthday cake, it had a jack o lantern on it and it was perfect. I survived my worst day possible.

I was weak, I felt cheated, and I was angry that my life was gone. I had to learn how to live in a new normal of Lovenox injections, INR draws, warfarin sodium, to many pills to count, doctors appointments and CT scans. I wasn't living the life of a 27 year old, I was living the life of someone much much older. Yet it was my life to live and I had one choice: "survive or give in." I chose to survive.

Survival is not perfect. This second chance I live is pretty fucking messy and hella awesome at the same time. I put on a red dress and never looked back. The American Heart Association gave me a platform to share my story, they put the voice back into the survivor and Now my story is saving lives. I meet women who come up to me and say I heard your story and I decided to talk to my doctor about my risks and what birth control is safe for me. That right there makes my little heart sing. I can't go back and change my story, but I can share mine to change someone else's story.

We know that my massive pulmonary embolism with infraction and stroke were caused by my hormonal contraceptive, but we don't know why. At the time I was healthy, I did not smoke, I wasn't over the age of 35, I wasn't over weight, yet it happened. Further testing showed that I was negative for Factor V along with a whole host of other genetic conditions that lead to clothing. I was genetically perfect, yet some how some way it happened to me.

If scientist can figure out why it happened to someone it shouldn't statistically happen to, we can stop it from happening in other women. In order to find that why, we need funds for research. The government is the largest financial contributor for medical research and if those funds get scraped my why goes out the window. The ability to save thousands upon thousands of lives goes up in smoke. You and I we can make a difference, reach out to your congressman & women and tell them that you support the funding of medical research. Come to the MN capital on Saturday @ 1:00PM central time and stand with us as we rally for medical research. Bring a poster, yell at the top of your lungs and make a difference, help us secure our healthy tomorrows.

Mostly let's face it, without research we are dead in the water, our doctors are only as good as the researchers who stand behind them and without them we have nothing.

{Go Red} A Chance at Motherhood is Why I Go Red 

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Looking up at my children. The blue balloon is in honor of Lucia and the purple balloon is for Baby E. My babies they will always be

I am the mother of two babies. My babies do not walk this earth, instead they paint the colors of the sunrise. Lucia would be 7 years old and Baby E would have just turned one. I would have my hands full. My arms are not filled with children, instead they are filled with hope. When you are the mother of angles a part of your broken heart lies in heaven. It’s a hard job and it’s one you don’t get to choose, it chooses you instead. 

I didn’t choose to have a pulmonary embolism or a stroke, it chose me and I’ve never looked back. 6 months after it chose me I found out I was pregnant. Like really pregnant, whoops “I was pregnant and I didn’t know it.” I lovingly called the baby little bear. It was a boy, a boy who died quietly in my womb. He was safe, he was loved, he will always be my first. Lucia, my baby you will always be. 

After a baby dies you have this strong desire to get pregnant again. To rewrite history and prove to yourself that you can carry a baby to term. To prove that God found you worthy of motherhood. But what happens when you are told “it’s not wise for someone with your history to get pregnant……” You get angry, you cry, and then you slowly come to terms with it. You pray that science will catch up with you and that this cruel joke will be over and you will have your rainbow.

Five years after my stroke my rainbow came. Again doctors said “you will be high risk. We need to watch you closely, blah, blah, and blah.” We got excited, that excitement just like before dwindled when an empty sac appeared. Our baby, my rainbow was not meant to be mine. Baby E wasn’t meant to be ours. My rainbow slipped through my fingers and renewed my desire for motherhood. Baby E, my baby you will always be. 

Babies are always at the back of my mind. I have names picked out and plans laid out. Jay and I tried for a year with no luck. Who knew a rainbow was so hard to catch. So I started down the path of fertility screening. I am now on a first name basis with the ultrasound wand, needles, and x-ray machine. I am fertile like myrtle who lives down the lane, yet my body can’t get intune. They say the nuvaring is most likely to blame, but we will never know for sure. In the past I was told “fertility meds are not for you.” Which makes sense since it’s recommended that I never use birthcontrol again. Hello blood clot creating hormones! Until now……….Science! 

Science! Finally caught up with me. Medical research is a beautiful thing and now I can has a baby too! In October we tried a combo of Femera and Ovidrel with no luck. In February we are going to the next level, Femera and ovidrel with IUI. I can has an IUI too! Motherhood was a thing I could never touch, it eluded me and now I have her in my crosshairs. Because of medical research it’s within my reach.

My pregnancy (when it happens) will be different too. Back in the day doctors believed in large doses and starting lovenox early. Today we will still be starting as soon as I get a plus sign, but the dose will grow along with my pregnancy. We will start with a shit ton of monitoring and a small dose of lovenox until we build up to the higher dose when I am 7 months along (that’s if my body needs it). There is still a chance that our baby could be born lovenox dependent and that I could have a clot, but for me the risk is worth the reward. 

Because of research and medical technology I will be able to have a healthy pregnancy too. Not all survivors get a chance at motherhood. In a lot of cases the risk is far greater than the reward. My heart breaks for them. I know the ache they feel and I know what it’s like to look up and wonder “why me?” All it takes is one look at a baby bump to make you feel less than. The baby isle and shower invites are a reminder of your inability to have children. They are a reminder of what was taken from you. We did not choose this road, the road chose us and we have to walk it until our time runs out. 

I once belonged to that club, then I got lucky. Science and technology caught up with me. Because of research Femera was found to aide in ovulation by decreasing the estrogen levels without increasing progesterone. The Progesterone in the nuvaring is what caused my blood clot. The likelihood of a blood clot event on Femera is low and I don’t know about you but, I like low. I am a survivor, a survivor who is standing on the cusp of motherhood. 

In my heart I know that this time I will bring a baby home. Heaven has two pieces of my heart and it’s time for a third to live on this earth. One thing I am certain about is that the doctors will learn from my fertility treatments and pregnancy and that information will help other women like me bring home a healthy baby. That right there makes all of this worth it. 

I go Red for the survivors who will never get to be mothers. 

{Lucia & Baby E} Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month 

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October is many things. For me it’s my birthday month and more importantly it’s where my second story began. I get lost in the details, counting days, writing posts, and reflecting on the year before me. No one ever said survivorhood would be easy. No one ever said “not all babies get to come home.” 

That is something we keep from little girls. We never tell them that not all babies come home and that not all women get to be mommies. That some women have to fight harder for motherhood than others. We keep the darkness out of their eyes and fill them with hope, hope that one day they will hold a baby of their own. 

For me I wish someone had told me “not all babies come home.” That would have prepared me for the worst. We know it’s possible, but our hearts never wonder to that place of “what if.” Instead we live in the land of preparation and anticipation. You get so wrapped up in that land, that when you hear six little words they cut through you like a knife. No woman wants to hear “I’m sorry there is no heart beat.” Those words are a sentence to a life time of wonder and what ifs.

You are left wondering “could I have done it differently?” Followed by why me. You struggle with your faith and become jealous of the swelling bumps around you. Yet somewhere along the way you realize “you never get over the death of a child, you just learn how to live with it.” It’s been six years since I’ve said goodbye to Lucia and I can tell you that a day does not go by where I do not think of him. The same goes for Baby E. A piece of me will always be in heaven and I have to live the best possible life, because they never got a chance to live theirs.

After you lose a child life goes on. People will tell you “oh you will have another one.” Those words are spoken easier than done. No one ever tells you that “some women struggle.” I fall into the category. I am struggling to catch my rainbow. In the quiet of the night I pray that my turn will come. Fertility clinics are expensive, yet our reward will be worth it. I have faith that my third time and Jay’s second will be the one that sticks. I want so very much to bring a baby home, to hold them, and love on them for the rest of their lives. 

For my heart knows what it’s like to let go and she is ready, she is ready for a baby that can stay. 

{Hearts on 22} I’ve Got Weight to Lose and a World to Gain 

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What can I say, I am a Minnesota girl through and through. I have a deep deep love for all things tasty. Chocolate isn’t my cup of tea, it helps that I am allergic to it, but girl I can get down with a slice of lemon cake or an apple pie. Preferably pie, I’m not a big cake fan, but if cake is in the room chances are it will find its way into my belly. 

Bacon it doesn’t stand a chance! I am in LOVE with bacon. It was a big deal when I said to Jay “I love you more than bacon!” When I am not with bacon, I am with cheese. Wisconsin’s greatest gift to the human race was CHEESE!!! Fresh cheese is the best cheese, it’s even better when battered and fried, cheese curds are literally a girls best friend. Who needs dimonds when you have cheese curds! 

We need to get real! I mean like really real here folks, thou my love for bacon and cheese is strong, it is starting to show on my ass, my thighs, and every where else it can accumulate. I am starting to feel it in my knees and I have to squeeze myself into my pants. I like wearing pants that don’t squeeze my innards and allow me to eat food while they are buttoned and or snapped up. I also like shirts that leave a little wiggle room. My dresses are more forgiving thou they to are getting a little tight around the ass region. 

Guys and Gals, shopping isn’t AJ’s thing! Yes I am female and yes I just admitted that shopping isn’t my thing. Sorry boys I know I am a catch for that very reason, but I am already happily taken. Anyhoo back to the wardrobe, something has to give I love my current clothes and I want them to love me back. So this only means one thing, “AJ needs to make a life change.” As in clean up her eating and get her ass moving like a boss. 

I should know a thing or two about weight loss and healthy living. My first job out of college was with Jenny Craig as a Program Director, I sold the program and counseled clients along their journey. It was fun, but if you know me and you know me well I HATE prepackaged microwave meals! Like hate them, they never look like the picture on the box, they are loaded with salt, and not to mention the chemicals in the plastic tray that leak into your food during the heating processes. Yes, I know I’ve put way to much thought into that. Anyways I did not want a plan that requires me to live out of my microwave or drink shakes. I wanted something that would fit into my life and not fit my life into a diet.

Enter advice from the world’s greatest best friend Sherri, she said why not try “weight watchers!” Hmmm I instantly pictured little old ladies in swim caps doing water  aerobics while counting points. Then there is Oprah, she’s always yelling “I LOVE BREAD” and urging us to give weight watchers a try. I did some research and took Sherri’s advice, I signed myself right on up for the program. $20.00 a month isn’t so bad plus there is a handy dandy ap that synchs with my Fitbit. Bonus Jay is also going to be working the WW plan too. It’s nice to have your BFF and life partner on board, otherwise this journey would be boring.

The Weight Watchers app is pretty simple to use and was easy to setup. My goal is to lose 34 pounds by my 34th birthday. Which is 10/27/2016, I figure slow and steady will win this race. Best part is I do not have to deprive myself of anything. I still get to have my beloved bacon and cheese. Everything has a point value, foods higher in sugar/saturated fat and sodium have higher point values. Which helps steer you towards healthier choices that will eventually result in drops on the scale.

The Weight Watchers Beyond the Scale program also focuses on activity and non-scale victories. I love that my Fitbit synchs with the weight watchers app. I earn extra points to use during the week based on my activity level. AJ don’t run unless she is being chased but these shoes were made for walking and that’s just what they’ll do. Non-scale victories can be as small as turning down Deseret or as big as finally fitting in an airplane seat. You choose your own victories and celebrate all of your success that happens off the scale.

I have been working the program since April 2 and I can honestly say I don’t feel deprived or hungry. I am less bloated and have more energy. Thou I still need naps, naps are my jam man. Cullen is tired, tired because his legs are short and we have been going for longer walks. He really likes naps too! Below is my before photo and hopefully my after will look drastically different. I don’t want to be a skinny mini, I want to be a size healthy and feel comfortable in my own skin. Because Beauty knows no number. 

Before!!!!

You can follow along on my journey as I will be sharing the tips and the tricks that I learn along the way. Besides we both know I am going to also be sharing my success and the down right funny moments of this process too! It will be fun so put on your walking shoes and come along with me! 

{Go Red For Women} “I Lived” is why I Go Red 

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“I Lived” is why I Go Red. Survivorhood is a beautiful disaster. There is no guidebook or follow the dots for survivorhood, each woman has to lay the bricks for her second chance. There are moments where I wish someone would hand me a guidebook and to show me “this is how you do it.” But then I think to myself, “on October 22, 2009 you were given a blank book and only you know how to write your second story.” 

 Make a difference. Amongst all of the fear and unknown I stopped to ask “how many other women has this happened too?” In one moment of disaster my passion was born. I wanted to make sure that no other woman endured my fate, I wanted to make a difference and raise awareness about the side affects of hormonal contraceptives. 

1 out of 3 women will die from heart disease and stroke. 1 out of 5 people will survive a pulmonary embolism. Those odds are not in our favor. So many women have no idea that their birth control puts them at a higher risk for blood clots, stroke, and heart attack. When we look at these odds one most stop and ask “are they preventable?” The answer is simply, yes they are. 

Education starts with you and me, together we can help medical professionals learn the signs and symptoms of blood clots. They do not live in our bodies, we do and we know our hearts like no buddy else does. It still bothers me to this day, that it could have all been prevented. I could have skipped the pain and avoided the aftermath. That if my doctor had listened to my symptoms, she could have ordered the d-dimer test and the clot would have been stopped before it hit my lungs and eventually my brain. I have to live the rest of my life knowing that this didn’t have to happen. 

But it did. A beautiful disaster the ignited my passion and gave me purpose. I got a second chance to live this life. I am blessed, I am amazed, and sometimes I feel like I am living someone else’s dream. It’s mine, every pothole, pitstop, and curveball are mine. In the moments of disaster I found myself. I found the strength to continue dancing on the good days and laughing on the bad. I cherish each moment, for I know I am living on borrowed time. I’ve stolen almost seven years from the sandman and I pray that I will steal a few dozen more. 

From billboards, to bus stop posters, to PSAs and beyond. Six years ago I had no idea that my story would have so much value and impact on the people around me. State lobby days allow me to make a difference and national lobby days allow me to take a stand. With tears in my eyes I stood on the U.S. Capital Steps right next to Nancy Pelosi, giving a speech on the impact and importance of the Affordable Care Act. You’re the Cure has given me a platform to make a difference and for that I am forever grateful. 

  

Time. Be it given or borrowed I do not take it for granted. I survived the worst day possible. I lived. I’ve squished a lot of life into the past 6 years. I got a divorce, adopted a dog, found a job that I love, mostly amongst it all I found myself.  I became a mom, Lucia and baby E rest in God’s heavenly arms. I spent time with my father, wine tasting and thrift stores are our jam. My mama and I spent time in the dells, shopping and lunching. Those two, they are my rock. 

Our family grew, I watched my sister become a mom, Sophia and I are bonded for life. I got to paint Sophia’s toes and take her to her first movie, Charlie Brown of course. As I was letting go of Baby E, I again watched my sister welcome her second child. Jack doesn’t know it yet, but he is one lucky little dude, aunties like me are hard to come by. Sophia and Jack are spoiled, I treasure each moment and love them beyond measure. Their Auntie, I will always be. 

Love slowly seeped in. Fate brought me my best friend, my confidant, dinasour loving, dirty joke telling soulmate. In Jay I found home, in me he found the woman he will soon call his wife. We were so close to parenthood, but Baby E was never meant to be ours. Jay. and I have hope that our rainbow Is just around the corner. 

Who knows maybe if the stars align this time next year “motherhood” will be my why. I would love that “why” very much. 

But for now: “I Lived” is Why I Go Red

 

{Go Red for Women} Being an Auntie Is Why 

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 One out of three women will die of heart disease. One out of five women will be impacted by heart disease in their lifetimes. If you ask me one, is one woman to many. Many believe that heart disease and stroke only affect the elderly, sadly this isn’t the case. The thing about Storkes is this: “they are a thing, they have no idea how old you are, or the color of your skin or your weight, they strike when you least expect it.” Stroke is not an elderly thing, it’s an every woman thing and they are 80% preventable. 

My stroke was the direct result of a hormonal contraceptive. I had gone to my annual exam and displayed all the signs and symptoms of a blood clot and my doctor ignored me…….. Yes you read that right, she ignored the signs and told me to drink some water and walk more. Her medical advice seemed half hearted and rushed. Something in my gut told me to get a second opinion, I never sought that second opinion, instead one week to the day I drove myself to the ER. 

I drove myself through rush hour traffic to the ER and that is where my second story began. I was fighting for every breath I could muster and fading fast. The CT scan revealed a clot the size of a 10cent gumball blocking the main valve that connects the left lung to my heart. Blood was barely getting past the clot, my heart was in sinus tachycardia, and my blood pressure was rising, all ingredients for a perfect storm. A storm that lead me to have a stroke right in the ER, clot busters were given to me and blood thinners were started, and I walked out of the hospital four days later.

I survived the unthinkable, only 1 out of 5 survive a pulmonary embolism and walking away unscathed from a stroke is a miracle in itself. What hurts the most is that all of this could have been prevented, there was no need for me to die almost five days before my 27th birthday. My pulmonary embolism and stroke were 100% preventable. All the doctor had to do that day was listen to me, a simple test called d-dimer could have identified the clot before it reached my lungs and my stroke would never have happened. Yet, I wouldn’t trade this experience for the world, in a moment of disaster my purpose was born.

I fight for all of the women who were asked to leave the table. For those women who never got a chance to say I do. For those women who never got to watch their children grow up. For those women who never got to become mothers and for the survivors who will never hold a baby of their own. For those who never got to hold their nieces and nephews. 

Thousands of women’s lives are being cut to short. Thousands of children are being cheated out of there mothers, aunties and grandmas. Not to mention think of all the men who never got a chance to meet their soulmate. We can change this! You and I can change this, by simply going Red. When we go Red we raise awareness of heart disease and stroke in women. When we go red we raise funds for life saving research. Mostly when we go red we save lives. Life is why and no woman deserves to fight alone.

If you need proof that “Go Red” matters, look at Sophia and Jack, they will tell you “it matters.” My family will tell you “it matters!” My story could have ended diffrently, Sharon would have picked out an urn instead of a 27th themed Halloween birthday cake for her daughter. Jammie’s children would be learning about their auntie through photographs and stories. Because of the American Heart Association’s life saving mission I got that 27th themed birthday cake and I get to be Super Auntie! 

So yes Go Red does matter and it does make a difference! Please join us and go red for the women in your lives on Friday February 5, 2016. 

Being an Auntie is Why I Go Red 

{Go Red For Women} I can have bad days too!? 

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  There is no perfect survival story and there is no guidebook called “how to live your second chance.” Life is messy, it’s a beautiful disaster. Some survivors chose to curl up in a ball and wish the world away. Others are filled with anger and they become bitter with age. Some simply give up before they give them selves a chance to rise. Then there are the ones like me, a special breed who doesn’t deal with the mental/ emotional aspect of what happened, yet they want to change the world. 

When you survive the doctors do a really good job at taking care of your body. Your mind and soul are left with you to repair, as they do not have time for that. They simply cannot mend what they cannot see. 

Trauma leaves scars behind. Pulmonary Embolisims and Strokes take pieces of your soul and if you survive they leave you with survivors guilt. I’ve spent more days than I can count wondering why me and why not her? Why am I allowed to take a seat at the table while so many women are asked to leave? Fate she amazes me, maybe she saw something in me that I didn’t see in myself. Maybe she knew that I would grow in a moment of darkness. 

I never looked at my PE and stroke as a tramatic event, for me it was a horrible event that I wanted to stuff in my pocket. I wanted to get back to normal as soon as possible, it never crossed my mind that I needed to deal with the mental and emotional side of survivorhood. In my eyes I was doing a really good job at running from my emotions and memories. My back pocket held my PE, the Stroke, Lucia, Divorce, and Charlie. As long as they stayed in my back pocket I was safe. I believed whole heartedly in the old adage “out of sight, out of mind.” 

A soul can only carry so much disaster before its seems break. My seems burst long ago, I was living on patches, throwing myself into my work and crying my tears into the muppet like dogs fur. When I turned 32, I knew something had to give, I thought “therapy is only for the crazies and for those who can’t get their fucking little ducks in a row.” My ducks were lined up in size order, my exterior was iron clad, and crazy, ha I probably am but hey that’s ok who isn’t a little off these days.

Research, I checked the health partners sight to see what my plan covered,Watercourse is where I landed. Turns out they were right around the corner from my apartment, I had driven by their office for years. I slowly dialed there number, a nice lady answered, she asked if I had a couple minutes, I said yes. I unfolded the items hidden in my back pocket, she repeatedly said “you poor thing,” and promised to match me with a therapist. I was sceptical and hesitant, a few days later they called, her name was Emily. My first appointment was scheduled. I was ashamed to tell my friends “hey I’m gonna go see a therapist so I can learn how to deal with my shit.” 

Walking into Watercourse I was in denial and skeptical about therapy. Mostly I was afraid she would tell me “you are insane, here is the name of a psychiatrist.” No one wants to be told they are crazy. Emily didn’t tell me I was crazy, instead she asked me question after question and with each answer the items in my back pocket unfolded into the room. She started to build a picture of my past and my survival mechanism “put it in a box and deal with it another day.” 

Bottling up emotions is not the answer. Eventually the top is going to fly off and you will end up in a puddle of tears on your appartment floor. Trust me I know about this kind of thing. Emily understood the road I was walking on and through guided conversation we traced each step. We discussed how I don’t always have to be perfect, she told me “it’s ok for you to have bad days too.” Emily was the first person in 6 years to tell me that it is ok to have bad days or off days or any kind of day I want. Everyone else acted like I shouldn’t complain or have a bad day, instead I should be grateful that I am alive. 

I am grateful to be alive, I know that a few minutes could have given me a different ending. I am a stubborn survivor, help is something I rarely ask for. In my mind asking for help is a weakness and shows your flaws. Emily made me realize that we all need a little help and that people want to be needed. I am so used to being the helper that I put my own needs aside. I do everything on my own, including driving myself to the ER, because I don’t want to inconvenience anyone or ruin their day. Which I wouldn’t recommend you do, ask for help, don’t be like me. Then again I have turned a new leaf and have learned its ok to ask for help. Jay can attest to this as he has taken me to the ER about 3 times now and carries heavy things for me. I am still not great at it, but I am learning that it’s ok to not always be the helper. 

I’ve been seeing Emily for over a year now and she has helped me immensely. Not only have we delt with survivorhood but we delt with Lucia too. Everyone says “oh you will have more children,” without knowing those words cut through me like a knife. A grieving mother doesn’t want those words, she wants her children. When a plus sign showed up in May I was terrified and did not want to get to attached to the contents of my uterus. She let me know that these feelings were perfectly ok and that with time they will fade. That I didn’t have to be afraid of an ultrasound machine and that I have a right to demand that we handle this pregnancy my way. 

That + sign slowly turned into an empty sac, I was crushed. I felt defeated that my rainbow eluded me. Emily helped me deal with my emotions and fears when it was determined that a D&C was the best course of action. Without her help I probably would never have gone through with it. We talked about the procedure and that it was ok for me to speak up if I didn’t like something or if something felt off, after all it is my uterus. I did my research and found a doctor who understood what I had gone through and he promised he would take every precaution he could to protect my uterus. He did just that and he said “I have no doubt that you will carry a baby.” Those are the only words I needed to hear, that I can have babies too.

A perfect storm, the past 6 almost 7 years has been waves of disaster. Between each wave I found calm and enjoyed the beauty in the silence before the next one came crashing down on me. I was sailing in a beautiful disaster. My boat on the outside her haul was perfect, but on the inside my engine was slowing burning out. Therapy helped me really examin each wave, to realize that there was nothing I could have done to avoid them and we cannot simply see in to the future. If I did manage to avoid each wave my life would be drastically different and I wouldn’t be me. 

The biggest lesson I learned is this: it’s ok to seek out a therapist. Sometimes one goes through so much that she needs another soul to help her deal with it. I had no idea where this therapy journey would take me, I just went in with a semi closed mind and came out stronger than ever. The doctors they fixed my heart and lungs, but Emily she mended the one thing they couldn’t fix, she mended my soul. 

We are all in this together. 

Mental health is often overlooked when it comes to heart and stroke patients. So many doctors only concentrate on the physical and leave their patients to struggle through the why mes, the what ifs, and other questions that plague survivorhood. The thing is we do not have to go it alone talk to your doctor, let then know about your struggles. Because one’s mental health plays a huge part in their  recovery. If your mind is not in the game, then your heart surely won’t follow. 

To learn more about  Watercourse please visit: Watercourse Counseling