It starts here..

Well...technically it started 15 years ago when my dad was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy. One night at work he hurt his back and was sent to the ER by his boss to get checked out. A "routine" ER visit turned into a diagnosis that would change my family's life.

What is cardiomyopathy? According to Web MD:

"Disease of the myocardium. As a disease classification, the term is used in several different senses, but is limited by the World Health Organization to: “Primary disease process of heart muscle in absence of a known underlying etiology” when referring to idiopathic cardiomyopathy."

My dad started seeing cardiologists and going on different medications. As a young girl, I knew things were serious but I didn't really know how serious they really were. I knew he had a heart condition, but our lifestyle at home didn't change too much. My dad always took care of himself, he ate healthy, he worked out, and he took more vitamins and supplements than I thought even existed.

I can remember back to two different moments where I realized that although cardiomyopathy was a "heart condition" it wasn't JUST a heart condition.

The first time was when I was about 19 years old. I started seeing a new family physician and had to give all my medical history as well as my family's medical history. The Dr. reviewed everything I had filled out and when she got to my dad she asked me if my dad was still living. It was that moment where it hit me. Whether or not my Dr. was referring to the cardiomyopathy, I don't know. But she didn't ask this question about anyone else. Maybe I was growing up and realizing that parent's aren't immune from death.

The second time was 6 years ago. We went on a family outing that involved a lot of walking. My dad started slowing down, he had to sit down and rest a few times. The entire night I worried about him. Seeing my strong, very able dad struggle to walk a few miles concerned me. For the first time in my 22 years of life, my dad looked fragile.

Fast forward 1 year, my dad got a pacemaker/defibrillator device implanted. My dad retired, and for awhile things almost seemed "normal." Routine cardiologist visits. Medication adjustments. Things seemed ok.

Our world dramatically turned upside down June of this year. The one call I always dreaded receiving finally came. My mom called to tell me that dad's defibrillator went off and she had to call an ambulance. Since then there's been more ER visits than I can count, many cardiologist appointments, numerous medical tests, some "information" only appointments, and lots of tears.

We know that medication can only sustain his heart for so long. The next step is an LVAD "bridge to transplant". And the final step, a heart transplant.

I want to blog our journey as therapy, and I'm also looking for support. Over the months I've searched the internet for some kind of support, guidance, reassurance that what I feel is normal. Every time I've looked, I come up empty handed. I hope that one day- someone who needs the support I need right now finds this, and doesn't feel so alone. For the privacy of my family, I won't be using names or specific locations. But I urge you to contact me if you have any questions.