Today is my three month anniversary of having open heart surgery. I was told at the start of this experience that I would  never forget the date of my surgery and I have certainly come across a number of zipper club members who ‘celebrate’ the date that gave them a second chance.

So three months in and I am feeling good. The pain that four weeks ago I thought would never go has disappeared. The only twinge I get is when I take my dog, Oscar, for a walk. He has never been sympathetic to my cracked sternum. It is going to take a year or two for my slightly enlarged heart to realise that the obstruction has gone so it doesn’t have to thump so forcefully. And I am coming to terms with having to take warfarin for the rest of my life. No more Sunday’s with my head down the toilet. Tragic.

As the memory of being in ITU starts to fade I can reflect more objectively on what has happened to me. From finding out that I had a serious heart condition, the fear I felt as I was being wheeled down to theatre and the challenge of recovery. To where I am now. Writing this blog in my running gear. Once it is posted I am out of here.

What is hard for me to reconcile is how I managed to ignore a serious health problem for years. By the time I was diagnosed I was at serious risk of sudden death. Of course I knew something wasn’t right. I had been to the GP twice with my symptoms. He didn’t think anything was wrong, but I was living with the symptoms and most of the time I chose to ignore them. I never thought for one moment that I had anything seriously wrong with me. Why was that? Why did I think that I couldn’t be ill?

When I did find out I had a serious heart condition I was devastated. The world became a cold, dark place. For a week at least until a friend pulled me back into the light. The same friend also told me that there would be a silver lining to the surgery that I was going to have. It was difficult to imagine at that time what it could be but I found it. And at the risk of getting sentimental and gooey it is the love and support I have received from friends and family. It is commonly stated that at times of need you find out who your friends are. I have been so lucky. From the friend that pulled me back into the light, the friend that got my hospital appointment brought forward, my work colleagues that sent me in a huge bag of hospital goodies, the friend that walked miles with me, the sister-in-law who took me to hospital appointments, the numerous messages of support that kept me going in hospital, the visits during my recovery and the flowers, so many flowers. It has been a revelation. I feel so fortunate.

 But back to my initial diagnosis. I suppose I will never know why I chose to ignore my symptoms until it was nearly too late. But once I was diagnosed I spent time preparing myself for the surgery. My bag was packed. Very useful as I ended up as an emergency admission. No chance of my husband arriving at the hospital with a couple of pairs of grey knickers but no contact lens holder. And mentally I reconciled myself to having the surgery. What I shouldn’t have worried about is the waking up in ITU with a tube down my throat. The thought terrified me but the reality was very different. I had nothing to worry about. In fact apart from a blip on day three my hospital stay was great. I was even starting to like hospital food by the time I was discharged.

The hardest part has been recovery. It often felt it was three steps forward and two back and on one occasion it was four back but that was my own fault. My heart condition was years in the making why did I think that a few weeks would see it off? But I am here now. 2016 is just around the corner. In January I return to training. Oh how I have missed those burpees! 

I got through it.