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Showing posts with label long-term survivor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label long-term survivor. Show all posts

Friday, March 6, 2015

A PH Story Continued

Part 2 by Eye Shaa Malik


My story continues...

I normally visit my doc once in two weeks for regular checkup but my last worst hospitalization was on 6 April 2014. It left a mark on my mind and it brings tears in my eyes when I recall that day. I've got severe heart arrest at 3 am I was at hostel nobody was there to take me to hospital I was extremely breathless with hell pain in my heart. I was brought to heart center at 8 am next morning (that added to the severity of stretch of heart hole's muscles with insufficient O2 supply) by my roomie, I am thankful to God and then to her for saving my life. I was swooned afterwards and undergoing various treatments like O2, nebulization and injections repeatedly...

I don't know what happened then & when I revived my senses I found myself half-dead still ongoing spate of treatments. My family arrived near 4 pm I evoked my will-power and didn't heed to anyone , my doc said you are not in condition to go ,I insisted but I got breathless again and was brought to another hospital the same evening .... It was a severe jerk that I wasn't able to get up for approx. a 'month' but thanks to some good medical attention & I took my rehab seriously, brought myself to the level of fitness... It was spring and undoubtedly in these 12 years this "Crop-cutting" season aggravates my symptoms. During this turmoil I've written a poem "My scattered breath" that justify how my condition fully cox when you can't breathe nothing else matters!
              
            “My Scattered Breath"

        Night prevails to bring some rest...
        Even the birds flew to their nest...
       To sleep soundly is my quest...
       But being valetudinarian I am arrest...
       Spring's brutal to me ever, yet!
       Can't blame the crops that harvest...
       Once again I'll have to pass it like a test...
        Cox having "PH" is not a jest...
         Lots of fears, if it’s last spring lest!
          Dear lord! Waiting for you to manifest...
          The eternal heal that reveal the zest!


 My focus is to keep myself psychologically healthy. My parents have always told me that you are "RARE" not "SPECIAL" so my "expectation level" for care and affection from others is very low .......I cordially thanks my caregivers and try to return something to them (that can be a smile :)). I think when we are ill we can waste too much energy being mad or being glad about how people are caring for us, when we should be really there caring for others, our illness doesn't exempt from reaching out in fact, I think we are more accountable because we can understand journey better than those who have not yet taken it. I feel like now that I have PH I am aware of every my single breath to thank.  Never in my entire life anyone sympathized me because I never painted a sorry picture of mine and I feel that’s my success . Everyone and I mean each and everyone says this " You don't look like a patient " until unless I tell them that there is something wrong inside , my nails and lips give them a ill bit of clue rarely but I often hide it with some lip and nail colors..
                                                 

One thing for newly diagnosed patients with PH or any other chronic disease... Look! You are a higher, plight till last breathe, yes you are bearing up, but who isn't? In one way or other everyone is the part of any struggle. Never ever give up & keep marching forward. Everyone has to go one day, take your medication & rehab-process seriously, smile for your love ones and get out of dismal outlook and prove the world that you are a "WARRIOR”. Once you adopt things turn easy for you, HAVE A COMPLETE FAITH IN GOD. Keep your mind spiritually positive & patiently wait HE is the best healer, you all definitely be rewarded for this pain. He is aware of your struggle and the midnight sky and the silent stars have been witness of your devotion to freedom and of your heroism.

Friday, February 27, 2015

A PH Story

Part I


By Eye Shaa Malik


Everyone has a story.  Here's mine...

How long you have been with PH? What medication are you on?

It’s been more than a decade, approx. 12 years, I am 21 and I was diagnosed with ''severe'' pulmonary hypertension in June 2003 due to large VSD (ventricular septum defect) with bidirectional shunt after angiography. Prior to that I have had a "small" congenital VSD (a small hole in heart) but when I was 3 it was “filled” naturally, and I was alright without “surgery”. I lived a healthy life until I was 9.

I found myself breathless, exhausted and fatigued even after little exertion. We thought it was asthma and went to many physicians and ENT specialists. Finally a doctor noticed my hands were blue and questioned if I had any heart problems in past. He suggested going back to my cardiologist as he thought there might be something wrong with my heart.

My cardiologist asked for an immediate angiography after which there was a meeting of various cardiologist and my family.  They (doctors) predicted my longevity to be 2.5 years.  The repeated what was written on my reports, '' ITS TOO LATE, NO ELEMENT OF RECOVERY COULD BE FOUND.'' This very line literally reshaped the perception of my entire life.
                            
I went to every possible place where the best doctors were available, but because there were and are no medications approved for children, I have been continually referred.  I have undergone various treatments, trials & experiments. Finally they found a medication regimen that worked, I was put on tracleer (Boonton), sildenafil (penegra), warfarin and lesoride (my current treatment, as well). While they said I would never survive without oxygen, I only use it at night.


My life was forever changed after diagnosis.  Since that day, I have always been treated as "Regina" by my loved ones, nobody ever dared to scold me. My parents and siblings were always gentle with me. I used to tell my friends I had asthma, as  I thought it would make sense to them.  I actually thought PH was another name for ''Heart asthma.'' However, my cardiologist scolded me and said, "If you knew the severity of what you have you would never call it asthma again! I can expect only an illiterate person to compare it to asthma."

What are you able to do that doctors said you couldn't? 

For the first five years, I was completely unaware of the fact that I had PH and that the doctors had thought I wouldn't live longer than 5 years. My doctors asked me to quit my studies after 11th grade.  I was doing pre-medical which they thought was too demanding and stressful. I argued and promised them I would avoid stress and I somehow passed it with A+. I was a good student and never ever thought, "Oh! I'm chronically ill.  I am about to die, why am I studying?"

However, I fell more severely ill and this time as the hole in my heart enlarged, it was decided my pre-med studies were a no-go. It was suggested I choose an easier course of study to have less impact on my health. I used to think about it for the days and nights and cry the whole night because I felt I wanted to do so much, to be so infused with all the energy to put into my work, but I was not able to, and that was really frustrating....

I had nothing else to do and an empty mind is a devils workshop. Pessimism started creeping up on me, and it felt there was no way to cast off melancholy. But, my parents helped me to choose a course of study, honors in English literature & linguistics. There have been many days of exacerbation, but I think to "give up" is accepting your defeat and that being a PHighter or warrior you are not supposed to give up.

They told me to avoid stairs and sports, I was actually supposed to limit my activities that demands more physical exertion... but, I am good at aerobics (an amazing choreographer, or so everyone says). My cardiologist says it’s not good for me, but whenever I listen to my favorite music I cannot help it, I consider it my exciting pulmonary rehab.


I am studying at a place far away far from home and living in hostel.  I have to do everything on my own and that's a big deal for me. I am able to do everything, but I need  "little breaks,” my friends call it "pause time". I think PH doesn't hinder you from living a normal life, we may just need to do it a little more "carefully." 

What is your dating life or marriage like with PH/Oxygen?

I was in 11th grade when I was being told by my doctor that "you are not supposed to get married." It was a great shock for me, I have never  considered myself as a patient, so I argued with my doctor and asked why.  He said "You cannot take care of yourself,  how can you manage a home of your own?”

After 2 years my cardiologist said the same thing but in a condescending way, he remarked "NO ONE ACCEPT AN OPEN HEART WITH OPEN HEART " ... a brutal statement indeed.  It served as an eye-opener for me, I couldn't argue this time because everything was so clear, tears blurred my vision because the initial acceptance of some facts is really a hard pill to swallow but once you make up your mind everything becomes easy.

It still resonates in my mind and hits me hard emotionally, but I am not convinced by this idea. My parents wanted to me to grow-up an independent and brave girl. People will definitely not be calling me a "Spinster." 

I am not saying a PHighter should or shouldn't get married, I am just trying to say this world is so cruel and being patient there is a possibility that you can be rejected or considered as a big "responsibility,” by a potential partner. Nearly all of the PH patients I know do marry, have kids (biological or adopted) and are living their lives happily because they are lucky ones to get their "rainbow" after the hurricane. But not everyone is lucky enough, I am an eternal optimist, I do believe in soul-mate theory.

But my focus and priority is my health so my ''BIG DAY'' would be the day I’ll get perfectly alright, yes that miracle day! I have seen many people posting in PH groups they are so anxious, perplexed & concerned about it (finding a partner), I would say "HAVE A FIRM FAITH" stay "STRONG" , KEEP YOUR SPIRITS HIGH , if luck favors you ! Great! If it doesn't that's not end of life...

One thing that my mother says when pessimism lapses on me "DON'T WORRY WHO KNOWS WHERE THE WIND MAY BLOW FOR MY GIRL."

Hardest part of life with PH?

The hardest part was the "acceptance" that I have a chronically terminal illness and I've a short time to live and being a kid this acceptance-phase prolonged  ... my doctor told me that only "will power '' will keep me alive. I've conceded to PH and every reality related to it with dignity....

Another hard part was when I couldn't study what I wanted to or I grew up dreaming of, because a person with right heart failure was not eligible.

I've had my days when I was really down and losing hope, but this was a greatest "learning-journey”. That pain must have taught me about the life, people & myself. It’s been a massive learning curve, so much about everything .I've experienced good things and bad things myself and that has taught me that the world is not all flowery, everybody doesn't want good for you ,friendship's changing equations, dynamics .I've also started to " grow-up" after fiercely resisting for many years.

Besides PH I have vigorously swollen "tonsils” for approx. 14 years and it hurts, in extreme condition it becomes red  ... My ENT specialist says I have needed surgery for the past 13 years, but due to anesthesia risk, they call me a HIGH RISK PATIENT and no one is ready to take that risk. That's why I am desperately waiting for a “miracle", seemingly all doors are closed for me but I have a blind faith in God that he’ll open all the doors at right time.

So, this was some of my story. In nutshell, I think my disease has helped me focus on what's important and let go of little things. I've made peace with the fact that there is a possibility I’ll die young, but HOPE is everything. Even healthy people aren't promised tomorrow. Respect the fact that you're a PHighter, it demands bravery as each day is fight and adventure,  pain demands to be felt, life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in rain so be thankful for what you have and you'll end up having more.

I literally count my own blessing and think that if the pain is so damn bigger, reward would be colossal. 

Stay tune for Part II of "A PH Story"

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Looking Back and Moving PHorward: PHighting to Breathe for 10 years: Part 2

On Sept. 6, 2013, I officially achieved "Long-term Survivor" status. To mark the anniversary, I decided to retrace my steps through my old college campus where I was "knocking on death's door." Now that I am "better than ever before," I wanted it to sink in just how far I have come. What follows is part 2 of my commemorative trip down memory lane. To read part 1, see yesterday’s entry.

9/6/13
From here, I go to the art building where I "inexplicably lost consciousness." This eighth passing out episode is where the "official" diagnosed PH journey begins. I keep realizing I never counted those years pre-diagnosis until this anniversary ...

I DID IT!!


The hill that was almost literally the death of me was barely an issue. Campus is quiet; no one else is around. Total "de-ja-vu" feeling – remembering how I was walking right along the concrete columns, how I grabbed onto every other one, then every one to support myself. I was SO out of breath. Then it all happened so fast: unbelievable burning in my chest, black spots, couldn't hear my friend Cassandra finish her sentence. Then, the world went black.
 

By the way, I'm writing this part while sitting on a bench right where I passed out.

Cassandra must have called 911. When I woke up, I was on my back surrounded by medics. I remember being lifted into the back of the ambulance but being so out of it. By the time we got to the E.R., I felt fine. Yet again, I was frustrated and scared, but physically, I felt fine. I let them do blood work but refused any more tests. I had them all done before, and they always came back normal. I couldn't stand to hear another, "I don't know what's wrong with you."
 

This all happened the Thursday before Labor Day. The local cardiologist did a T.E.E. (Transesophogeal Echocardiogram) on Friday. The following Tuesday, we were at an out-of-state PH center where a right-heart catheterization was scheduled for the following week. In the meantime, they sent me home on continuous oxygen.
 

After the cath, I passed out on my way to the bathroom. As I regained consciousness, I was being wheeled into the I.C.U. where I stayed for about a week. And we were off and running. (Wow, poor choice of words, but walking at all sure felt like running.)
 

A lot more is coming to the surface, but it’s almost time for me to take Tyvaso. I need to start walking back to my car. I feel physically really good. I'm glad I did this. Sitting in the spot where I nearly died, feeling calm and conscious. My breathing is fine, and it's beginning to register just how far I've come.
 

Tore out a journal page, wrote a note and left it on the bench. I wanted a symbolic way of acknowledging the fact that I almost died in this spot.

The note said:
"Pulmonary hypertension – A rare, progressively debilitating lung disease that causes right-sided heart failure. Arteries in the lungs are constricted, making it increasingly difficult for the heart to pump blood to the lungs. The whole body is oxygen deprived. You are CONSTANTLY short of breath. A handful of medications can slow the progression, but today there is no cure. At some point, lung transplant may be an option for some patients.

I passed out – right here – seven years ago. A few days later, I found out I had had PH for the past three years and was now ‘knocking on death's door.’ I was 19 years old. Today, I am officially considered a long-term survivor. Please go to www.PHAssociation.org.”

By walking away, I was symbolically leaving the past behind. And if anyone does find it, it's a little bit of PH awareness, too. I felt very "light" walking away from that spot, very free. Classes started letting out, but I didn't turn around to see if anyone found my note. I got what I came for.

I can already hear that nagging, anxious voice saying, "Someday, you'll be back at that point. The disease WILL progress, eventually." But even if just for tonight, can that voice PLEASE be silenced? Let me just relax, physically and emotionally. 


I'm hoping that having officially reached this milestone, I will be able to keep "getting to know myself" beyond just "the girl with PH." I hope it will get easier as time goes on, provided I remain stable like I am now, to emotionally deal with, accept and move on from everything I have been through. I've been in "strictly survival mode" for so long. I'm only just beginning the emotional healing process.


The past 10 years have been one hell of a ride in every way imaginable, and then some. I still can't believe this: I AM a "Long-term Survivor." 


I am a PHighter.
I am a Survivor.
I am PHenomenal.


We ALL are.


PHenomenal Hope. PHenomenal Courage. Every breath. Every day.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Looking Back and Moving PHorward: PHighting to Breathe for 10 years: Part 1

It started out slowly, getting out of breath going upstairs or running laps in gym class. They said I had asthma. A year later, I began passing out. They said I had epilepsy even though my "unexplainable losses of consciousness" didn't fit the definition of a seizure. Eventually, I was gasping for air walking from one room to the other. After three years, I was finally correctly diagnosed with PH. I was 19 at the time and was "knocking on death's door."

That was seven years ago. I went from "don't get your hopes up" to embracing my "new normal." Three years later, the disease progressed. In just five months' time, "stable" was replaced with "heart failure" and "borderline kidney failure." Then, after transplant evaluations, I improved to "better than ever." Of the 12 drugs currently on the market, I've been on seven.

On Sept. 6, 2013, I officially achieved "Long-term Survivor" status. I decided to revisit the college campus where I was "knocking on death's door." I wanted to retrace my steps – and the many stopping points along the way – from the psychology building up to my dorm. Everyone else's five-minute walk became my 45+ minute ordeal. I also planned to walk from my dorm to the art building where I passed out for the eighth time. This was finally the turning point that brought us to the PH diagnosis. Now that I am "better than ever before," I wanted it to sink in just how far I have come. I was also hoping to quiet the lingering fear that this stable and, dare I say it, good "breath of fresh air" is all just a temporary, albeit wonderful, dream. It worked.

What follows is part one of the journal entry I wrote as I walked that day:


9/6/13

Long-term survivor TODAY. Weather is perfect.
In the bottom floor lounge of the psychology building writing this. The elevator was my first rest stop. Most days I was able to at least make it that far, still feeling okay. Well, here we go …
My second stop: right outside the front doors. I'm actually SHOCKED right now how short that distance felt. My next stop, a tree in the parking lot across the street, doesn't seem far at all.

I remember leaning on this tree GASPING for air. If I thought about it, I had my phone out ahead of time so that every time I had to stop, I could pretend to be texting. This tree isn't even half way yet, and many times I would be ready to cry already. I did notice a gradual incline as I crossed the street this time.

Crossing the parking lot, which is slightly uphill, was definitely my farthest distance between stopping. It took me under two minutes to reach the big rock across the lot. Felt my heart working a little faster, but I was only S.O.B. for a few seconds. This is the halfway mark. Again, I would be GASPING for air at this point. Still being told I had only "minor" health issues. Looking at these distances now, seven years later, its like, "WOW." They seem so short. It’s hard to believe. This reaction is exactly what I was hoping for. Next, I go around the cafeteria to a picnic table alongside the building. From this point on, it’s all steeply uphill …

The picnic table was gone. I just kept walking. Definitely more of a workout this time. The hill got really steep. Some steps, too. Sitting in front of the dorm now, just long enough to write these few lines, and my heart rate and breathing are already coming back to normal. By this point, I would have been BEYOND EXHAUSTED. My roommate, Kelly, said I was "the soundest sleeper she ever knew." I never realized how completely exhausted I always was by the time I got back to the dorm room.

I can't tell you how many times I felt myself starting to pass out on the way to the English building (uphill from the dorm, a lot of steps into the building). I would tell myself, "Just make it inside. Don't pass out now on the street. More people will see you in the building." We still had no idea why I was "inexplicably losing consciousness." That class is all a blur. I was too worried about staying conscious to care about Shakespeare.

So much is going through my mind. Above all else is the realization that my main thought right now is not: "OH MY GOD, I CAN'T BREATHE!" Or how badly my chest burned with every inhale, like my insides were being torn apart. Or how dizzy I was. Every step, every breath felt like it would be my last.


Check out tomorrow’s blog post to see how my journal entry concludes.