What did I write about last time? Yeah, life goes on. It's hard to believe it's already October 2018. It still seems as if yesterday I was in the drive-thru at the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf near my old house, marveling at the fact that one of the baristas was changing out the regular drink menu for the holiday drink menu. Mmmm...peppermint mocha! (Now that Mike and I moved in August into our own home and have a mortgage payment, I finally have my own home-brewing coffee pot and I actually bought International Delight's Peppermint Mocha coffee creamer last weekend because I'd had enough Pumpkin Spice. Yum!). But yeah, about that. As I was sitting in the drive-thru on October 31, my first full day on medical leave as I anticipated surgery, I was thinking about how funny life is. How only a little over a year earlier I'd had my second valve surgery, that I was in heart failure at that moment, and that it was getting close to 2018. Here I am today, on my niece's 27th birthday (it seems like yesterday I was a junior in high school and she was born; now I'm teaching juniors!), marveling at the fact that it's almost 2019. Where does the time go? Facebook likes to remind us of "what happened on this day" every day. Yes, Facebook, thank you for reminding me that my mom died eleven years ago, but I digress. What just popped up in Memories the other day was a post of mine from 2016 when I'd given a presentation at Edwards Lifesciences. The photo below is of Mike Mussallem, the CEO of Edwards, presenting me with a framed photo of my heart valve team. Also below in italics is what I posted on Facebook the next day, still in awe, appreciation, and also disbelief that it took 41 years for me to be officially diagnosed with a perinatal stroke. Today is my four-month new valversary! ️️️️ Long post ahead... For years I struggled with accepting myself. While I never really thought much of being a heart patient--only when I saw my pediatric cardiologist for annual check-ups--I was ashamed of my right-sided weakness because I didn't know how to explain it. Kids can be cruel and growing up I was called names and bullied for my disability. A teacher in junior high even failed me on an oral test because of my speech impediment. [Side note: This is why I never give less than a D on my students' presentations.] However, in the last ten years, ever since I had to confront heart disease head on, I have learned to accept myself. Learning more about the physical aspects that make me, me and getting involved with the American Heart Association have helped me share my story, advocate, and meet others like me. I belong to a special "club." I AM A SURVIVOR. Two weeks ago, I finally had an answer as to what caused my right hemiparesis. I think deep down I'd always known the answer, but having an MRI, meeting with a neurologist, and finding out that I had a stroke in the birth canal, added more to my story. I even cried when I got home because I finally had an answer. Connecting with the President of the International Alliance for Pediatric Stroke helped fill in information that had been missing for 41 years. Last night, I had the true honor of sharing my story at the Edwards Lifesciences Champions for Life Employee Recognition Dinner. I was honored to meet the CEO as well as the Executive Leadership Team, and meet a man after the ceremony who told me that my next valve surgery will indeed be a TMVR (Transcatheter Mitral Valve Replacement). I had never been so proud to be the person I am today. The CEO presented me with a framed photo of the team in Singapore that made my valve. Awesome! I may still have a ways to go in finally loving who I am, but I am proud to be not only a heart disease, but also a stroke survivor. *** I remember how honored I felt to have had the opportunity to share my story. Out of all the thousands of patients who'd had bovine pericardial valves implanted in them, I was chosen to speak at the event. But life is funny. You think your life is heading straight down this path, and everything is normal--maybe finally, for once--and right with the world, and then God steers you in a whole new direction! I had no idea, other than being aware of the shortness of breath and easy fatigue (which I had ascribed to being healing effects), that my valve was already failing. That thirteen months from that presentation at Edwards Lifesciences, I'd be having my valve replaced again. For a split-second I wondered why God would allow me to go through yet another valve surgery. But I knew why, deep down. It was another chapter in my Valve Story. I could almost sense the Lord touching me on my shoulder and saying, "Trust Me. I got this. I know what I'm doing." I could share my story with others as I'm doing today as I sit here at my computer writing this blog post. I've had a valve repair, a tissue replacement, and a mechanical replacement: I bellied up to the Heart Valve Buffet. I can speak on what it's like to have had all three types. But after this surgery, as I touched on earlier, there was crushing post-op depression. It's interesting to see how far we've come in the last twenty years with self-acceptance when it comes to our bodies (as I was going through old teen magazines from the 90s as I was packing and getting ready to move, every article that dealt with weight was that a weight problem was indeed a problem--something to be ashamed of and fix with exercise and diet and clothes that hid your size), but when it comes to mental health, depression is still seen by many as a character flaw. And as a Christian who's depressed? Girl, you're not trusting in Jesus enough! I feel so much better than I did last December, or February, or April, or even July. I remember telling my therapist after I'd been taking Celexa for a few weeks and it was already starting to make me feel as if I'd come back into myself again: "The meds are great! I feel like they're a conduit for feeling Jesus's peace!" And I was feeling great. I felt joy. I wasn't worried (so much). I'd taken an "It is what it is" approach and learned to just let things be. I've been off the meds since August, and other than normal up-and-down feelings, I can happily say that depression has no hold on me. At the same time, I know what to look out for and what to do if I start to feel bad again. And since I've been more openly discussing post-op depression with others who have gotten the Heart Valve Surgery T-Shirt, so to speak, I've realized a couple things. 1) Post-op depression happens to a lot of us; and 2) Post-op depression is barely recognized. I recently typed in loosely, "post-cardiac surgery depression" and Google returns a few broad things. There are a couple medical journals that touch on depression in heart attack survivors, but many results barely bat an eye at post-cardiac surgery depression itself. Most that do attribute depression to being older when surgery is performed. There are 20-year-olds who are depressed after heart surgery, yo! The thing that really irks me, though, is when people tell others, "You should be so grateful to be alive! Cheer up!" Like, I would if I could. I was--and am--grateful to be alive. I know that I could have died in surgery, especially from the complication the night of. And maybe that's why the depression got a stranglehold on me--two open-heart surgeries within twelve hours of each other. Maybe deep inside my subconscious, I was more scared and worried than I thought and it festered and burst into all-out depression when it did. And as much as I love my cardiologist, I wanted to punch him in the face when he told me dismissively, "Just move on, Debra, you're fine." Dude. I. Was. Depressed. I could barely get myself to do anything. Many days, especially after Mike's FMLA was over, I'd stay in my PJs all day and watch crime shows on the ID GO app on our iPad. It took me a long time to come back in to myself. I honestly wasn't sure I'd even be able to go back to work. But things improved, and I went back to work, and now the first quarter of the school year is almost over! Where does the time go? Time is a funny thing. Soon I will be celebrating my first new valversary! But more importantly in this messy blog post today, I want to ask: Why aren't we (patients, family members, doctors, etc.) fully recognizing and addressing post-cardiac surgery depression? |