It is 6 years since I had open heart surgery for severe aortic valve stenosis. It came after two years of trying to get answers for the symptoms I’d been experiencing. In the end I gave up with my GP and went to a clinic in Harley Street where I received the devastating diagnosis. Eight weeks later I had the surgery in the NHS. There then followed a period of cardiac rehabilitation and a normal, active life. Since then I’ve done a tough mudder, ran a half marathon and climbed numerous mountains. I have kept myself fit and healthy. The memory of waking up in intensive care connected to numerous machines has faded over time.

But a few weeks ago the symptoms of a failing heart returned. I’ve gone from climbing Snowdon in July to getting out of breath climbing a flight of stairs. The palpitations have increased and a dark cloud has descended.

I’ve also lost a lot of weight. I had been working hard to lose my lockdown fat. But in a controlled way, aiming for 1kg per month. And then out of nowhere I lost 4kg in four weeks. I’ve always envied anyone that needs to put on weight but I’m currently not enjoying eating as if it is Christmas but it not translating onto the scales.

I’m not as strong. Earlier in the year I deadlifted 115kg. Today 80kg is challenging.

I’m angry. I have done my upmost to stay fit and healthy. I’ve kept my body weight in a normal range, I’ve exercised, I don’t smoke or take drugs and my alcohol consumption could be described as pathetic. But, of course, there are no guarantees. I suspected that my psoriatic arthritis had yet again attacked my heart valves. A mechanical aortic valve should last a lifetime but not if it becomes calcified.

It is very difficult to find joy in anything when ill health threatens your future. I find it hard to visualise a life where I have to be mindful of physical limitations. The life I want to lead requires a strong heart.

And I’m back to the overwhelming challenge of being noticed by the NHS. When I reflect back 6 years nothing much happened until my admission through A&E. Back then an ‘urgent’ referral was 12 weeks. In our COVID world it is now much longer.

I’m hugely grateful to the NHS. It saved my life. The care I received was excellent. But we must be mindful that it is free at the point of use which is very different from free at the point of need. People die on waiting lists. I can’t wait months to find out what is going wrong with me. I need to know now. So I booked a echocardiogram and a private consultation with a cardiologist.

On Saturday I went for the echocardiogram. I was really apprehensive as I feared the worse. I visualised returning home knowing that I was back on the open heart surgery pathway. But it was all normal. No leaking valve. No calcification. My heart was functioning as it should. I was initially delighted but if my heart is working well something else must be causing the breathlessness, palpitations and weigh loss. As you can imagine I googled like mad but the usual suspects (overactive thyroid, diabetes, anaemia) didn’t match my symptoms.

I then had a private consultation with a very reputable cardiologist best known for resuscitating footballer Fabrice Muamba when he suffered a cardiac arrest during a FA Cup quarter-final. He confirmed that my heart was sounding good. Next step is a range of eye watering expensive blood tests. But if I get an answer it is money well spent.

Becoming ill again has made me reflect on the time I’ve wasted over the last 6 years. Whilst I’ve done a fair amount there is still a lot I want to tick off my 70 for 70. I want to run a marathon but I’ve been holding out for a London Marathon place. I should have lowered my aspirations.

My life feels as if it is currently on hold. There is very little joy to be had whilst this dark cloud hovers over me. Fingers crossed that answers are just around the corner.