How it All Began

So originally I was planning on fitting my entire story onto one blog post, but after some reconsideration (with the help of my best friend!) I realized how ridiculously hard/long it would be, so I've decided to split my story into my three stages after my diagnosis: middle school, high school, and now college. Right now I will mainly be trying to write out my timeline, and later I will be releasing more blog posts that addresses particular moments/thoughts in my life in more depth.

Well, I guess the best place to start is from the very beginning, so here it goes:

When I was a small child, I suffered from asthma until the age of 2. After that, life was perfectly fine (health-wise) and at the age of 8, while debating between tap dancing or swimming, I took up competitive swimming. It turns out, swimming was my element. I quickly rose up the ranks in the swimming world, making it to the top of my age group in the Pacific Region, with many thanks to my top-notch swim club, Santa Clara Swim Club. I was awarded "Outstanding Swimmer" for the 10-and-under girls category in the Pacific Region, and I even made it to "Western Zones" (an all-star swim meet that only swimmers who were chosen would be allowed to attend) twice, when I was 10 and 12. To put it in perspective--when I was 12, I competed against Missy Franklin (Olympic swimmer superstar, google her! And yes, she was already amazingly fast at such a young age) in a relay during Western Zones with me swimming for Pacific Coast and her for Colorado! Swimming was my life, and it was my dream to be an Olympian swimmer.

Unfortunately, it all came crashing down about six months after I turned 12. I started getting more and more tired during swim practice, and my performance at swim meets were extremely poor and disappointing. I would get out of breath after about two laps and it was a struggle everyday to swim. Sadly enough, I was known for being a complainer so every time I complained to my coach and parents, they all thought nothing of it. My parents finally took me to the doctor to see what was wrong with me, and we all accounted it as the return of my asthma, as wheezing was one of my symptoms. I was put on asthma medications and inhalers for a number of months, but nothing helped. Finally, after yet another doctor visit, my doctor referred me to a get a lung x-ray (for the presumed asthma) and in the x-ray results, it was noticed that my heart was enlarged! I was then referred to a cardiologist, and the appointment would be a two days after my 13th birthday--which was also a day after what I would not realize until later, my last swim meet.

Meeting with a cardiologist for the first time was a surreal experience. Looking back at it, I think I was relieved to finally find out what was wrong with me and what was making me so slow at swimming, yet I don't think I fully understood the repercussions of the diagnosis. I remember getting my first echocardiogram (which is similar to an ultrasound, except for the heart) that day, and the look of my cardiologist after analyzing the results was very unsettling. Although the memory is quite fuzzy in my mind, she essentially informed my family and I that I had dilated cardiomyopathy, and that my ejection fraction was so low my heart function was classified as "severe". Basically, my heart was doing so poorly that she was shocked that I wasn't currently hospitalized, and the only reason my symptoms were so minimal was because I was a swimmer. Of course, the first question I asked my cardiologist was: "Am I going to die?" and yes, you guessed it, the next: "Will I still be able to swim?" After a "No" to the first question (thank god), soon came the dreaded words, "I'm sorry, but until your heart condition improves, you will not be able to swim for an indefinite time."

I think the year following my diagnosis was not as bad as the second one. Honestly, I don't think I even cried (maybe not until high school, I would say). What really softened the blow was, as cheesy as it sounds--hope. Although my cardiologist told my family not to count on it, there was a possibility that my condition was acute and that after a year, I might be able to make a full recovery, considering my symptoms were already so minimal. I was then put on a number of medications, and was referred to a pediatric cardiologist at the Stanford Lucile Packard Children's Hospital, who took me under his care for the next 5 years until I went to college. Having the privilege to be under the care of one of the best cardiologists in the nation also definitely made me feel a little bit better about my situation and that "everything would be okay."

At school, things did not immediately change. I was in 8th grade back then, and I was immediately withdrawn from P.E. since I was not allowed to perform any physical activity. I only told my close friends (under my parent's directions, to have as little people know as possible) about my situation. I don't think anyone really understood the severity, including me, and in fact, my best friend just told me that she didn't even believe me back then when I told her ahaha. When I was seen not participating in P.E., all my classmates would ask me why and I would just tell them "I'm sick." However, swimming was another story-- I showed up the next day after my diagnosis to watch swim practice and to see my swimming friends, and I had to tell my coach that "I had heart disease and I couldn't swim anymore until I got better." I think in the first couple of months I was just grateful to finally get a break from swimming since I was doing so poorly anyways, but I really missed my swim friends (who were a second family to me) and swimming in general. I think I sometimes attended practice just to watch, but it just sucked so bad that I couldn't join them so eventually I stopped. I went from being one of the fastest swimmers in the nation to an insignificant spectator in the stands.

The rest of my last year in middle school went relatively fine; I think the main thing that was different was that I was taking daily medication for my heart disease. I barely showed any symptoms and I looked like a completely normal person on the outside. I would miss swimming and running (I used to be so fast!) but I always just told myself that "soon I'll get better and life will get back to normal". I had to see my cardiologist pretty frequently, but during the first 6 months after my diagnosis my heart function was slowly and surely improving.

Ok, that's all I have for now and I think that pretty much sums up the first stage of "my life with heart disease". Wow, this post has turned out to be longer than I intended! Anyways, I hope this was a cool way of seeing it from a patient's perspective and I do not in any way speak for anyone else, but this is the beginning stage of how I dealt/reacted after being diagnosed with what would become chronic illness. As I grew older my thoughts and feelings did change, and my next chapter will be about my life during high school (which is, unfortunately, also during the prime stage to be a stupid, rebellious teenager dealing with puberty).

Thanks for reading and feel free to message me for anything else you would like me to share!