{Go Red For Womem} Celebrating 10 Years of Saving Lives

Posted on January 29, 2014 by NinjaInTheCity

I have always been involved with the American Heart Association. As a child I participated in jump rope for heart, learned CPR with my girl scout troop, and in college I volunteered with the Twin Ports Go Red Chapter. My family has been supporting the American Heart Association since the day a little girl named Emma came into our lives. Emma taught us that life is cruel and even thou we are small we must play the hand fate dealt us.

Emma was dealt a shitty hand right from the start. You see she came into this world with a broken heart. Emma was the fist infant in Minnesota to receive a heart transplant. With that transplant we were filled with hope for a brighter day. Emma was one hell of a fighter, she gave life her all until the last breath left her body on December 29th, 1995. Emma was 3 yeas old when she left this world. Her father was robbed of the chance to walk her down the isle, and her sisters were cheated out of a best friend. From that moment I was committed to the mission of saving lives.

Fast forward a few years I was away at college in the north woods of Wisconsin far away from my family. On February 8th 2002 I called home to speak to my father. Instead of a conversation, I found out that my father was fighting for his life. I hung up the phone, my knees hit the floor and I prayed to God to take me instead. My father gave it his all, he’s an angle with one wing in the fire and someone up there was looking out for him that day. The mayo clinic fixed his heart and he was able to see his daughter graduate from college, get married, and watched her find herself. Mostly he got to stand by his daughter’s side as she recovered from a stroke.

Emma and my father were to very good reasons to volunteer with the American Heart Association. Little did I know that at 26 I would become the very survivor I was advocating for. On October 22, 2009 my life changed forever. Five days before my 27th birthday I became a pulmonary embolism with infarction and stroke survivor. I have no side effects or disabilities from my stroke. I am one of the lucky ones. I received the life saving clot busters in the nick of time and excellent care. One thing is for certain I will never look at birth control the same way again.

I went on birth control to regulate my hormones in hopes that I would become pregnant. The doctor recommended the Nuva Ring and said I should use it for a year and then try to conceive. Sadly I was on it for less than a year. Instead of a child, I had the rug ripped out from under me. The Nuva Ring took the very thing I wanted out of the equation. I want more than anything to look into a child’s eyes and know that I brought them into this world. The odds are stacked against me and the risks are far to big. So I settled on the notion that I would never be a Mom.

I know the odds, yet I am not able to quiet the desire. I love being an Aunt, heck being an aunt has made my thirst for motherhood grow. I did a lot of soul searching and faced the sun. Then one day it hit me and I knew there was still an option. The Nuva Ring may have taken my ability to carry a child away, but it will (mark my word) never take away my option to adopt a child. An that is exactly why I am going Red this year.

Left: 2009 / Right 2013 Looking back and celebrating 4 years of Survival

I am going RED for all of the survivors who are now mothers and for all of our sisters who never got the chance to be called MOM. Because of donors like you women like me are getting the chance to be Moms. We are getting the chance to go to college, to fall in love, to get married, and to have families of our own. 10 years ago our futures looked bleak and now, now they are so bright it will set your heart on fire. Every day we are saving 330 women, every day 330 women are getting the chance to live. Young survivors are thriving, the old are spreading their wisdom, and together we are making a stand. A stand against the number one killer of women.

My dream is to one day put away my red dress and to live in a world free of stroke and heart disease. Mostly I want to look into my child’s eyes and love them with every inch of my surviving heart.

“What Will You Gain When You Throw OUT The SCALE?”

Posted on January 5, 2014 by NinjaInTheCity

Photo by Stephanie Ryan Photography

I always dread the end of the Christmas season and find myself counting down the days to wait for it, wait for it….. WEIGHTLOSS SEASON! Every January my TV is filled with commercials spouting “What will you gain when you lose” or meet the new you. There are commercials for every gosh darn weight loss pill, program, and so on. My favorite tagline from an ad is for Lipozine “Why does it work? It cost $300.00. That’s why it works!” Really a $300.00 bottle of pills is going to help me lose weight? I don’t think so. My biggest beef is with Kellogg’s Special K cereal. Their ads always start out empowering with statements such as “You are more than a number.” Then they quickly go down hill.

As a society we have become so focused on the little box that sits on our bathroom floors. We let it guide our self-worth and our lifestyles. I can tell you that I too once lived a life powered by my bathroom scale and counted every God damn calorie that I shoved into my mouth. I ate rice cakes, 100 calorie packs, and many unappetizing low-calorie microwave meals. My life had become “Count, eat, sleep, gym, morning weigh in —– repeat 24/7 365. Then one day I ate a cupcake, I didn’t dare figure out the calorie count, and for once I was ok with it.

As I was learning to love my body, my bathroom scale began to gather dust. I stood one night and looked at myself in the mirror. As in really looked at myself, I saw my body from a grown up perspective. I was reminded that I get my facial features from my Aunt Cherie Leigh, I have her freckles, large forehead, and high cheek bones. I noticed that my collar-bone sticks out and that my boobs are still holding their own. My back fat, (yea, I’ve got it too!) curves, and dimpled backside no longer bothered me. Instead of flaws I saw strength.

For the first time in a long time, I smiled into the mirror. I am not a size 8 or even a 10, yet I am happy in my size 12/14 jeans. I no longer strive to be like the girls in the magazines. I want to be the best possible me. I need to take care of the body that God gave me. The flaws disappeared, instead I focused on the fact that my body survived a pulmonary embolism and carried a child for a short while. The scar on my lower abdomen is a reminder of my bladder reconstruction surgery and to have hope for a better day. The scars on my knee remind me to keep on walking until the road before me ends. My curly hair, I finally love it and no longer wish for straight hair.

My big flat feet proved to be the perfect canvas for a tattoo. Tattoos, I’ve got two! One on my foot of four bear paws to remind me that my son Alucious is always with me. I have a book-worm studying a law-book on my lower right back (Ha! You thought it was a tramp stamp!) it reminds me to never stop fighting for justice.

You see I no longer want to spend my life looking at a scale. Instead I want to celebrate all of the above things and live a life full of worth. A life filled with white frosted cupcakes, walks with my dog, and backyard BBQs. I don’t need to be a size 2 to be beautiful. At a size 12/14 I am the healthiest I have ever been in my life. I no longer need those 100 calorie packs, rice cakes, and crappy low-calorie microwaved meals to eat “healthy”. I learned how to eat healthy, as in real fresh from the farm foods. I cook more and actually get excited about eating. I have more will power than ever before, I can pass up the bakery, cookie, and snack isle in the grocery store. I am not missing out on the treats, instead I buy just one cookie or cupcake to satisfy my craving. That’s all I need.

I do not need a low number to tell me that I am empowering, joyful, healthy, beautiful, or sexy. I will never let the number on my bathroom scale define myself worth again. I just wish Special K cereal would changer their ads and make women feel empowered in their current state and not ask them “What will you gain when you lose?” Because really the true question is “What will you gain when you throw out the bathroom scale?”

{Hearts on 22} Celebrating My 4th Borrowed Year

Posted on October 22, 2013 by NinjaInTheCity

{Photo by Stephanie Ryan Photography}

There are moments were I feel like the little girl from Schindler’s list. You know the little girl in the one scene of the movie where everything is in black and white except for her red coat. Over the past four years I have heard more stories of pulmonary embolism loss than survival. I realize that only 1 out of 5 patients will survive a pulmonary embolism, yet it still moves me. Long ago I stopped asking God why he spared me and called another home in my place. At some point you stop wondering and start living. Living my life is the only way I know how to honor the four people who died so I could be the one who walked away. I vowed to make every year, month, week, day, hour, minute, and second of my life count, as I know I am living on borrowed time.

I have crisscrossed this country, speaking in church basements, town halls, elementary school classrooms, and college campuses educating women on the side effects of birth control. Educating women on heart health, blood clots, and mostly empowering them to be their own health care advocate. They listen wide-eyed as I tell my tale and go over the symptoms/warning signs. Only to find tears in their eyes as they realize that I almost died five days before my 27th birthday.

That out of anything I say is what sticks with people, the fact that I almost died five days before my 27th birthday. I can still see my Mam’s face as she walked into my room, her fear was so thick you could have cut it with a knife, her eyes filled with tears as she whispered “It should be my laying in that bed, you are to damn young for this.” She took my hand, rubbed my head, and promised me that we were going to beat this. She allowed me to cry for one minute and then I had to put my big girl pants on and fight. I had IVs coming from all directions, wires and leads tapped to every limb, in that moment my future looked bleak, yet I knew that this would pass, and that I would bounce back.

I’ve wasted enough precious time thinking about what I can’t have or do. Its taken a while but I have come t terms with the notion that I will never carry a child of my own, that I will not run a marathon, or climb a mountain. Instead I now focus on what I can do, I can adopt a child, walk a 5K really fast with my sister, and I will settle for the top of a hill any day. Most of all I can use my story to help educate my girlfriends and strangers about the deadly side effects of birth control. I can share my story with my Legislators, Congressmen, and Representatives, to strengthen the fact that we need more research on Heart Disease and Stroke in women.

My pulmonary embolism was the ER staffs main concern and my slight stroke was just a bonus. They both wreaked havoc on my body, yet I am still standing. When I look in the mirror I no longer see flaws, instead I see a body that’s been through hell and back. I see a body that survived a pulmonary embolism with infarction and a stroke, I have no doubt that it will carry me through a lot more. I have come to terms with the fact that I will never have my pre-PE/Stroke body back. I am just happy to be standing.

I am haunted by a comment my Mama made, she said “if my daughter didn’t get to the hospital when she did, I would have been picking out her urn instead of her 27th Halloween themed birthday cake.” That comment humbles me and reminds me how close I cam to death that day. My heart goes out to the families who have had to bury a loved one who died unexpectedly from a pulmonary embolism. That’s the thing, they are silent, and one never knows that they have a blood clot in their lungs until its to late. Most don’t even know why their child suddenly dropped dead, that is until the autopsy results confirm that they died of a blood clot in their lungs. I think about the women who never got to hold their niece, about the fathers who never got to walk their daughters down the isle, and about the women who were called home all to soon.

I live each day of my life for all of the women who died and for all of my survivor sisters still fighting the good fight. I will stand with my survivor sisters as we continue our wrongful injury/product liability suit against the makers of the Nuva Ring. One day justice will prevail, the souls of the lost will rest, and the broken will heal.

THANK YOU: A day doesn’t go by where I do not think about my care team at Woodwinds Health campus. Because of the ER staffs quick thinking and action I am alive today. I am alive because the doctor stopped what he was doing to ask me “by chance do you use birth control?” Extra test were ordered, a CT scan was given, and with in 30 minutes the clot was found. It was found because of that one little question and I am forever in debt to him. My stroke was stopped in its tracks because of the thrombolytics I received and for that I am forever grateful. I wouldn’t be alive today if it were not for the Doctors and nurses of Woodwinds, for they put this broken girl back together again and sent her back out into the world.

Because No Woman Deserves to Fight ALONE!

To Learn more about Pulmonary embolism and blood clots please visit the following:
Resources from the Mayo Clinic:
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/pulmonary-embolism/DS00429
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/blood-clots/MY00109
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/deep-vein-thrombosis/DS01005
The National Blood Clot Alliance – Stop The Clot: http://www.stoptheclot.org/

To Learn more about Stroke and Heart Disease please visit the following:
Resources from the Mayo Clinic: http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/stroke/DS00150
The American Heart Association: http://www.heart.org/HEARTORG/
The American Stroke Association: http://www.strokeassociation.org/STROKEORG/
Power To End Stroke: http://powertoendstroke.org/
Go Red for Women: https://www.goredforwomen.org/
Please Join me in making a difference by joining “You’re The Cure”: http://yourethecure.org/aha/advocacy/default.aspx

{Summer 2013} The Color Run

Posted on August 4, 2013 by NinjaInTheCity

Before

The Color run is touted to be the “Happiest 5K On The Planet.” It been a while since I’ve attempted a 5K, because of my damaged lung I am no longer able to run. Lucky for me my sister can’t run, well she can run, its just she kicks herself in the ass when she run. (Its a pretty funny sight) My sister had an extra race packet sitting on her kitchen table, when I inquired about it she proceeded to talk me into doing said run with her.

What can I say I was tired and just fresh from reading Sophia her bedtime stories, so I said yes. I said yes to this crazy run that took place at the state fair grounds. Our start time was at 8:30 and I was told to be there by 7:30am. Turns out I am early where ever I go, so I had to wait for the slow people that took forever and a day to get to the fair grounds. (A little planning goes a long way folks) Plus if you are meeting me for the first time you should be early, otherwise I will think you are a poor planner for the rest of my life.

Headed to the finish line!

Anyways everyone finally arrived and we joined the starting line. My sisters friends took off running while we power walked our way into the crowd. It wasn’t long before we met our first dose of color, we held our breath and let our selves get sprayed with blue, followed by orange, yellow and lastly pink. With the finish line in sight we trudged on and as we crossed the line I ripped open my color packet and threw a bunch of pink in my sister’s face. It was glorious and for once in her life, she didn’t yell at me, success!

After

{Charlie} Death Is The Only Guarantee In Life

Posted on June 8, 2013 by NinjaInTheCity

This morning while sipping my coffee I glanced at my iPhone and saw that today was June 8th. It took a few moments before I realized that I had let Charlie’s birthday pass me by without a tear. On Sunday June 2nd, Charlie would have been 42. I still find myself looking up and asking “Why?” Why, did you have to leave the stage in the middle of your song.” Did God know something that we didn’t, did he need an angel with one wing in the fire. My Mother tells me that our fate is determined before we are even born. Some of us grow old and weary, others die before their time. Then there are those who knock on deaths door and walk away to live another day. Fate is written in the stars, only God knows what’s ahead and we must keep on fighting the good fight until our names are called.

Death, is the only guarantee in life, everything else is up in the air. It’s simple really we start dying the moment we are born. We spend our lives climbing the mountain and searching the every day for salvation. Church teaches us that there is a here after and that if we live a Christian life we can walk through the gates of heaven. I believe that a life without sin is a life wasted. Those who never sin, are like dreamers without dreams. Heaven knows that I’m not perfect, like Charlie I too have raised a little cain and I plan on raising a whole lot more before they lay my body down. When someone has lived a good life Indian people will say “He lived a good fight.” Each day is a struggle and each of us must find the strength to see it through.

No one said life would be easy nor will it ever be perfect. The moment you think fate has smiled on you God will pitch a curve ball and throw a wrench into your plans. I have seen more balls and wrenches than I care to count. I have fallen in love only to fall out, I carried a child that God called home before he set foot on this earth, and I fell in love with a man that died before I could even say I do. For some reason I was allowed to walk away from deaths door only to find myself taking a seat at a friends funeral. Honestly I have been to more funerals than I have weddings and baptisms. It seems that I keep on fighting the war while my friends lose the battle. This leaves me mystified. One day I am certain it will all make sense.

Sixteen months ago I felt like my life had ended, my heart was broken, and I was tired. I was tired of saying goodbye and watching my dreams crash upon the shores. Everyone else’s boat was reaching the safety of the harbor, while my dingy kept crashing into the sandbar. I wanted the safety of the harbor. I wanted to feel the comfort of the navigational beacons as I sailed through the channel. Safe harbor is what I wanted, but the sandbar is what I needed. The sandbar taught me to breath and to let go. I faced the horizon and swam towards the shore. My memories are what carried me, I said goodbye to the land of what if and hello to the land of the living.

There are moments where I look back and wonder if Charlie knew that he was going to die before his time. He lived his life outside of the lines and loved with all of his heart. He would tell me “AJ, God is the only thing standing between us and the sandman, only he knows if we will rise in the morning light.” I thank God for each day I wake to face the sun. With each new day comes promise, a chance to write a new page, and to raise a little cain. Life is best lived outside of the lines. I rather party with the riffraff than waltz with the straight and narrow. I rather hold the hand of a sinner than the hand of a man who never dared to live. I am in no hurry and the cold ground will have to wait another day to claim this sinners heart. For I’ve greeted the sun and I’ve got a little more cain to raise.

{Hearts on 22} Heart On The Hill, Washington D.C.

Posted on April 26, 2013 by NinjaInTheCity

Washington, D.C., April 9, 2013 – More than 300 American Heart Association volunteers came to Washington, D.C. today to urge Congress to restore federal funding for the National Institutes of Health (NIH) and to support a Million Hearts campaign to attack the growing problem of high blood pressure – public health enemy No. 2 behind tobacco.

Heart disease and stroke survivors, researchers, and healthcare professionals from around the country met with their congressional representatives and asked them to allocate $32 billion for the NIH for 2014, to restore funding cut by the sequester and get NIH back on track.

The association volunteers also joined forces with representatives from more than 200 other non-profit organizations in a “Rally for Medical Research” on April 8, where they called on Congress to make research funding a national priority.

The March 1 sequester slashed nearly $1.5 billion, or 5 percent, of the NIH budget. A cut of this magnitude will reduce the number of planned research grants by about 2,300, cost more than 20,000 jobs nationwide and shrink new economic activity by nearly $3 billion. A typical NIH grant supports about seven full-time or part-time jobs, most of them high-tech. Every dollar that the NIH distributes through grants returns more than $2 in goods and services annually to a local community.

“If the NIH cuts remain in place, they will damage our fragile economy and threaten our nation’s position as the global leader in medical research,” said American Heart Association President Donna Arnett, Ph.D., MSPH. “More importantly, medical research is vital to discovering new treatments and even cures for generations to come. We must not give up the fight to increase federal support for the NIH.”

Advocates also asked Congress to fund a $35 million Million Hearts Initiative to tackle one of the nation’s most significant public health problems, high blood pressure. More than one in three adults in the United States have high blood pressure, but less than half have their condition under control. High blood pressure is one of the leading risk factors for heart attack or stroke.

MN Delegation: (from left to right) Mark Olson, Vicki Rivkin, Robert “Bobby Z” Rivkin, Dr. John Wheeler, AmandaJean B.

Information provided by the Amercan Heart Association

Life Is A Beautiful Disaster, Not A Perfect Plan

Posted on April 15, 2013 by NinjaInTheCity

I find comfort in a delicately plotted plan. In college I made vision boards that plotted my success from point A to Z. I had a grand plan of attending law school and becoming a kick ass attorney. Plans of traveling the world, building a Frank Lloyd Wright inspired home, and when I felt I was successful I would adopt a child. A child that I would raise alone. I never planned on falling in love or getting married. It was going to be me against the world and if love happened, it happened. I wasn’t going to count my eggs before they hatched, instead I plotted them neatly in my head. I was focused, I had vision, and nothing could veer me from my future.

Nothing that is until a dark-haired brown-eyed boy walked across the parking lot of my dorm and swept me off my feet. In him I found comfort like I had never felt before. I would do anything for him and his son. We date long distance, he didn’t come to my graduation nor did he seem to care that I got my degree. I talked about going away for law school. He told me “I won’t wait for you to finish.” With those words spoken, I put hat dream a side and moved in, by Thanks Giving we were engaged. He told me “when one dream ends, another begins.” Over the next 3 years that became my motto. I set out on creating a new plan, a plan that never quieted my desire for more. I loved Nylan with all of my heart, being a mom was one of my greatest joys, I gave everything I had to my husband, and kept our home polished. Yet, something was missing, it never felt right, and I wanted something more. Durring my marriage I never put myself first. My dreams and desires were not worth keeping, they sank slowly to the bottom as my husband whispered “this is your dream now.”

At 26 I became a survivor and little by little I started putting myself first. I was determined and created a new plan. A plan that would never ring true. I found out I was pregnant in the spring of 2010, I was filled with joy and began to plan for this new life. I spent hours debating paint colors and nursery themes. I read pregnancy books and looked into pregnancy yoga. I was happy. Happy because 6 months earlier I was on the brink of death and here I was six months later carrying a baby. This was my calm after the storm. It was decided that I would have a c-section and that I would take blood thinners during the pregnancy. I didn’t have a say in this and I wasn’t looking forward to twice daily injections for 9 months. However I knew that in the end the reward would be worth it. All of my planning went out the window the day I found out my son no longer had a heart beat. I was devastated and overwhelmed. This was never part of the plan. At that point in my life I knew something had to change. I had to find my way and figure out who I was. I only knew AmandaJean the college student and AmanadaJean the wife. I no longer knew who I was or what I wanted. The death of my son was the turning point in my beautifully broken plan.

Divorce, I never planned on it, yet it became a part of my history. I realize now that my PE and the death of my son were to prepare me for the hardest journey I’d ever take, the journey to find myself. The day I left my ex husband was the day I decided to live an uncharted life. I was terrified of failing, mostly I was terrified that I wouldn’t find myself. Terrified of falling down and that when I did no one would be there to help me up. I trip a lot and lord knows I’ve had my share of face plants. Since my divorce I have fallen more times that I can count. The City of Minneapolis is littered with potholes.

In January I unexpectedly found myself unemployed and without a plan. I was terrified I had never been unemployed in my life and I felt like a failure. I started to question my skills. Tears were heard in my voice and friends, they rushed to my side. Attorneys I had worked for in the past reminded me of how my work helped them and why I love my line of work. Lucky for me I was not unemployed for long. Within a week I was hired on as a temporary editor at a publishing company in the cities. That job ended in early April and I am not worried.

A few years ago I would have been a tearful puddle on my couch and desperately grabbing at tiny shreds of a plan. That was then and this is now, now I find joy in living an uncharted life. I can take this time to find the job I really want and take some time to just be me. Nothing in this life is set in stone. Each day we are above ground is a mystery and filled with wonderous exceptions. I’ve learned that a life lived on a vision board, is not a life lived at all. I have come to believe that fate loves to mess with a perfect plan. Maybe its fates way of giving us a slap in the face and saying “hey, while your planning you are missing out on the good stuff. You my dear are missing out on your own life. So stop the planning, throw the vision board out and just go with the flow and expect a few pot holes along the way.” That is exactly what I am doing. I am finding comfort in the beauty and meaning in the potholes.

{Heart Month} To Survive or To Just Deal With It

Posted on February 7, 2013 by NinjaInTheCity

“Heaven knows that I ain’t perfect I’ve raised a little cain and I plan to raise a whole lot more.”

October 22, 2009 I was taught a tough lesson. Fate taught me that you can either face a problem head on or you can just deal with it. The difference between surviving and dealing is strength. It takes strength to fight back. I could have taken the woe is me route, but that’s not my style. I took the fight tooth and nail route. Survival was my only goal and I dealt with my PE and stroke head on with all cylinders burning. Failing meant life or death. I chose to live that day. I chose to not only survive but to thrive. If I had chosen to deal instead of survive my story might be different.

I like you, have my good and bad days. On bad days I ask myself “Are you having a stroke? No? Then this is not the worst day of your life.” Those words give me perspective, if I am not lying in ICU fighting for my life, than hell I am doing all right. My now former coworker once asked me “Do you ever have a bad day? You are always so positive and cheery?” Truth: I rarely have a bad day. Each day I wake up and grudgingly turn my alarm off is a blessing. Each day that I am standing above ground is a gift. I am living on borrowed time and I am not going to waste it on petty small things. This is my third chance at life and I’ll be damned if I spend it crabby. The fore mentioned is the difference between dealing and surviving. People who deal don’t realize how precious time is and they spend their days wasting away. Survivors thrive because they live each day like its their last and live until their heart bursts wide open. An that is why I never had a bad day. I can’t change the past and my future is best left up to fate.

I have to believe that my stroke and PE are part of some grand plan. I am a firm believer that the good Lord never gives us more than we can handle. I’ll never know why it happened or what my life would be like without it. There are days I wish for my pre PE and stroke life back. Then I think about all of the things I have done, places I’ve traveled, and all of the people I have met. Without the PE my story would be different. My PE and Stroke gave me the strength I needed to mourn the death of my son and it was the final whisper that got me to walk out of my loveless marriage. It allowed me to realize that I had the strength to handle anything and as long as I believed in myself I could never go wrong.

PE and Stroke will not define me. They are only a part of my story and they will not control my life. As a thriving survivor I can rewrite the story and bring a new definition of PE & Stroke survivor to the world. I can bust down stereotypes and help people realize that they affect more than just the elderly. I can stand up and fight for all of those who lost their lives so I could live mine.

Through out February there will be Heart events around the twin cities. When you see a young woman sitting at the American Heart Association table or someone with Survivor on their name tag ask her “What’s your story.” Do this and you will be pleasantly surprised by her fighting spirit and her desire to prevent other women from experiencing her fate. That is the difference between a dealer and a survivor. A dealer curls up and hides in hopes that tomorrow will be normal. A survivor stands up because she knows “No woman deserves to fight alone.”

{Hearts on 22} ~ National Wear RED Day

Posted on January 29, 2013 by NinjaInTheCity

Friday February 1st, 2013 is National wear Red Day.

For the past ten years I donned red on National Wear Red Day. I wore it in honor of my cousin Emma and for my Father. I wore red as a reminder that heart disease knows no age nor gender. Red was my color and I wore it proudly. To me I was making a difference by sharing my Father’s and Emma’s heart stories. To me I was giving back for the second chance that my Father was granted.

My Father’s name is Gregory James. He is the son of an Irish woman and a Ojibway Indian. He is one of 13 children who grew up on a farm outside of Lake City Minnesota. His childhood was far from perfect, his Father was always to drunk to care and well his Mama, they only love he knew was the back of her hand. If you ask him about his childhood he will tell you “I survived by staying one step ahead of my Ma.” He never sugar-coated his life for my sister and I. You see my father was diagnosed with ADHD in the late 50’s. My Daddy was considered a throw away and no one ever thought he’d amount too much.

With only a 10th grade education he set out to conquer the world. He got a job in Minneapolis, lived in the YMCA, and learned that life was tough. Somewhere between Minneapolis and meeting my Mama he earned the nick name “Animal.” I’ve heard stories, but my Father has yet to deny or confirm the tales. Since he was barely making it in the City he returned to the tiny river town. As fate would have it he would fancy a female dump truck driver named Sharon. My grandfather played match maker and before long they were married.

My father is a laborer. He knows nothing but factories and nursery fields.Yet he was gentil and kind. Always lending an ear, a helping hand and playing with my sister and I. My Father was sort of like a stay at home Dad. Often my Mama would work double shifts which left my Dad with two tired and hungry daughters. Our dinners consisted of steak, baked potatoes, and watered down Koolaide. He would also get us up and ready for school in the morning.

Fast forward about 18 years. My father was the proudest man in town. One daughter had just finished college and the other was just starting. This is when the bottom fell out. I knew the day my parents dropped me off at college that it would most likely be the last day I saw him alive. He had fallen on ill-health and with no insurance he did not go to a doctor. One can tell when the soul is slipping away. On February 8th my father was admitted to the hospital, in March 2002 he was taken to St. Mary’s hospital in Rochester by ambulance. He arrived barely clinging to life. This, this killed me because I was away at college. My Father aways told us “When all else fails pray.” I just fell to my knees and prayed. I asked God to take me instead to give my father one more chance at life. The odds were not in our favor. However each day he got better and better. We soon learned that he had suffered Ventricular fibrillation which lead to cardiogenic shock.

My Father had survived. At 50 he became a survivor and we were blessed with his life. The past eleven years have not been easy. As a family we have had our ups and downs. My Father is not the same man I grew up with. His memory has faded, he is no longer able to work, and a good day is when he does not repeat himself 300 times. Those days are hard to come by,yet we don’t complain. Each day we have him around is a blessing. His first granddaughter turned one on the 27th and he was so proud. Seeing them together makes my heart happy. Yet, I am reminded that there are thousands of Granddaughters who never got to meet their Grandpas. An that breaks my heart.

What breaks my heart even more is knowing that there are children who never got the chance to meet their Aunt. Heat Disease, Strokes, and Heart Attacks are robbing children of their Aunties. To me my Stroke is nothing compared to my Father’s courageous battle against Heart disease. Because of my Father my life was saved. If I had never volunteered with the heart association I would not have been aware of the symptoms of a stroke. Through my dedication to my Father my life was saved. We are living proof that research can and does save lives.

My Sister, My Mama, and I urge you to wear Red this Friday in honor of someone you love. Sophia would also like you to wear Red because she loves her Grandpa and Auntie very much. If that is not reason enough please wear red in honor of My Father’s niece Emma. Wear red in her memory and for the tomorrows she never got to see.

{Hearts} On 22 ~ Christmas Edition

Posted on December 21, 2012 by NinjaInTheCity

My Dad just celebrated his 61st Birthday and his tenth borrowed year on this earth. On February 8, 2002, my Dad died. He went into congestive heart failure. His heart was just fluttering and they did everything they could to bring him back to us. The man we got back wasn’t the man who raised me. He had aged and his mind wasn’t the same. Since I was at college when all of this went down, he didn’t remember who I was. He would call me by my Mother’s and Sister’s names. I had decided to call him Pete, Pete stuck. My dad aka Pete, knows who I am now and his memory thou sketchy at times, has returned.

In January I got to watch Pete meet his first granddaughter. Tears filled his eyes as he touched Sophia’s tiny hand. My heart melted into the NICU floor as I listened to him whisper “You are a fighter, welcome to the world little one”. In that moment I thought of all the Fathers who never got to meet their granddaughters, instead they watch them grow from heaven. Sophia is one lucky little lady, she is born into a family of fighters and survivors. She proved her worth during her fist weeks of life as she fought of Strep B, like a ninja.

This December we will celebrate with Sophia and our hearts we will be with all of those who are missing a love one. Our family knows first hand what its like to say goodbye to a little girl. Our Hearts are with My Uncle Jeffrey and his children. It will be 16 years on December 29th, since Emma left this world. Emma will always be in our hearts, she is the reason we started advocating for the American Heart Association. Because of her, our lives were saved. Every life lost is not a waste. Every life lost becomes a learning Moment for Doctors and from that life they learn how to treat the next patient. It is my family’s hope that one day there will no longer be a need for research. Why, because we dream of a day where there is a cure. Where families will not have to go through what we did.

It is my dream that one day Sophia will not have to worry about her birth control ending or harming her life. That she will grow up in a world where heart disease is a distant memory. Until that day comes we will teach her how lucky she is. Because not many little girls have a Grandfather and Auntie who beat the widow maker. Not many little girls can say “My Grandpa is a congestive heart failure survivor and my Auntie is a stroke survivor.” She is lucky because many little girls stand by the grave side confused and wondering what happened. Instead our Sophia will one day pound the halls of congress advocating for heart health and a cure, because she comes from a family of survivors.

Have Bear Will Travel

She had to break, so I could shine

Category Archives: Blood Clot