Just Listen To Me.

Health diagnosis and women's care.

Recently I ended up in the ER for intense heart palpitations that resulted in my heart rate fluctuating from 200 bpms to 69 bpms. This ultimately led me to my diagnosis for a condition called postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome otherwise known as POTS. Here’s my story.

Three years ago I started having symptoms. Racing heart, the sensation of feeling as though my most vital internal organ was going to come out of my throat and land on the floor before me. I had a friend who was an EMT who told me to get it looked at immediately, to rule out any major underlying issues. I didn’t listen. It happened over and over again until I could no longer ignore the pulsing in my chest. I put my mom’s hand to my heart and asked her to feel for me. To understand what was going on, to somehow give me answers when I knew she didn’t have them. It got to a point then where it started getting serious. We booked an appointment for my 18 year old self to meet a cardiologist.

I was young and had no previous experience advocating for myself medically. It was scary to walk into a place where I didn’t feel normal, where I didn’t feel societally welcomed. What person my age was walking into this room and complaining of what I was? Why was I not normal? Why did this keep happening to me? I met the doctor and pleaded for anything she could do to help me. We went over my diet which consisted of one full meal a day that my mom made and inconsistent snacking that I felt was enough. She said that could be my problem. She asked me about my water intake and I said it was excellent for my age all things considered. She asked me about my exercise habits which there was none to speak of. She said that could be my problem. She asked me about any new supplements or medications, any changes to my caffeine intake or new foods I had tried. She asked me how much I had been sleeping I said maybe a range of 9-13 hours a night. She said that could be my problem. She asked how much stress I could be under, how much anxiety I have been experiencing lately. I’m not new to stress or anxiety, having been diagnosed when I was young. I expressed that I knew what my anxiety felt like, that I knew this wasn't a part of it. She said that could be my problem.

I left with a 2 week heart monitor after she heard something through the stethoscope that could be significant. I felt accomplished in ways because there was finally something happening, I felt out of control in other ways because that conversation wasn’t as productive as I had hoped. I spent the next couple of weeks taking walks with my mom outside, excessively sweating and with my heart rate through the roof when doing even mild physical exercises. I used to be an athlete. I used to run track, play soccer, play field hockey. I used to like doing cartwheels. I used to like racing my friends for fun with my lanky legs and all of the energy in the world. It’s hard to remember when that started to fade away from me. When I stopped feeling like the kid I was. Everyday I woke up it felt like a chore and I knew it wasn't depression anymore. My body couldn't keep up with my plans, it just wanted to go to bed. Walking from the bathroom to my bedroom or down the stairs was a task to be done. She found next to nothing on the monitor. I’ll let you guess why;

She didn’t know what she was looking for,

she didn’t know what she was dealing with.

So I lived with it over and over again. I moved across the country and attempted to leave it behind. Maybe if I didn’t think about it, it would just go away. Maybe I was doing something wrong this whole time. Maybe this was just something that couldn't be solved, a piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit anywhere. I was tired of being told I didn't have any options, that my body was healthy even though I never felt that way. I never wanted to talk about it, never wanted to be an inconvenience on that girl that everyone thought was just being lazy. I wanted to be motivated and able. I wanted to look like I was constantly put together and not falling apart. I would show up for work and be on my feet all day only to come home and feel like I was going to die from excursion. On my days off I would lay in bed and wonder when I was going to feel as if I was capable of doing the things I dreamed of.

Today I got my official diagnosis and this is only the beginning of the journey. I need to start to learn different ways to care for myself. Unlearn the tips and tricks others informed me I needed to do to be healthy. Most people shouldn’t up their salt intake, I need to. People tell me to work out, lift weights, go on runs. It’s not realistic for me anymore. Nothing is the same and I’m relieved. Relieved to have my answers and know what guidance I need to seek. Don’t ignore what your body tells you. Don’t ignore small things that feel big. And don’t be afraid to want your truth fiercely.