The Andersons: Twenty years

Twenty years ago, my life almost ended, and then began anew. Twenty years ago, I lost my innocence and normalcy. It has been a long journey, and the journey still continues. 6 surgeries, 5 sets of leads, 4 defibrillators, 3 doctors, 2 diagnoses and 1 sudden cardiac arrest.

I could rehash the whole story, but you know, I don't think I will. I don't like being a heart patient, yet I also take great pride in it. I don't like having a defibrillator, yet I won't live without one. I sometimes feel scared, vulnerable and unsure when it comes to my heart, yet I also feel strong, confident and able to help others who are newly diagnosed.

Somedays I feel like a heart patient. I have palpitations, I won't climb the stairs if I don't absolutely have to, I need to nap partway through the day, my chest hurts, and so on and so forth. And other days, I feel normal. I have energy, I dance, I wakeboard, I feel strong and capable.

Life is funny. It contradicts itself in so many ways. August 6th has always been a weird day for my family. A day of thankfulness, reflection, sadness, and...I don't know what. This day definitely changed my family, and 20 years ago we wouldn't even have imagined the many ways it WOULD change it. We couldn't have imagined that my dad would have the same disease and device, but that we wouldn't know that for 18 years. That my second son would have the disease and my third son would have a variation of it. That I would even LIVE long enough to have three sons, much less carry them to term and deliver them without much issue.

My thoughts are scrambled tonight, so I'll let the pictures do the talking.

Here is one of my EKGs. Nice deep Q waves, eh?