Winded. Breathless.
For those who know me, I don’t sit still much. God may have put a little extra go, go, go in the pot when he was mixing me up. Growing up I was always involved in something. Gymnastics, soccer, competitive cheerleading, horseback riding, girl scouts… when I wasn’t at a practice, meet or game, you could find me crafting something. I like activity, I like being on the go, I like DOING.
Looking back at those games and meets, I’d often get winded. I hated running (yes, yes, I know — soccer = running), if I over-exerted or went too hard, I’d have to sit and take a break. I remember feeling like I was going to faint, I’d often forget things or blackout in classes. I assumed — oh you don’t work out, oh your blood sugar is low. It was never something serious. Those same symptoms continued as I became an adult, but again, it was always, you don’t work out regularly, oh your blood sugar, etc.
When I met my now husband, we would regularly work out together and go on walks, I don’t really remember a time when I felt winded or breathless until after we were blessed with our two little guys. My children managed to get the go-go gene from me (probably a little from Adam too) — and per my family tradition, the soccer ball came out early. There were numerous times I remember from when our oldest was about 2.5 years old where we would be outside playing, I would try to run or toss him around — and I’d end up having to sit down, or lay down so that I wouldn’t pass out. But hey, I was a new mom — again, no working out, I didn’t get much sleep, it was what it was.
In 2019 though, things started changing. I was anxious and would get winded going up steps. On the fourth of July, our neighborhood has an annual parade. All the kids decorate bikes, the fire department comes. It’s a great time. I was pulling the boys in the wagon during the parade and did ok — but thankfully I had Adam’s help. He left shortly after this was taken. I could barely make it up our hill to our home (we’re only the third house up)... even when I made them get out. It probably took me about 30 minutes to make it home. I was scared. Why couldn’t I breathe? What would happen if I fainted and our two boys were home with just me?
I started questioning if I was ok, so (you guessed it) — I brushed it off.
In September 2019, Adam and I took a trip to NYC. We had an incredible trip, we ate a lot of food, toured around, saw Wicked on Broadway and rode bikes through Manhattan. It was amazing, except… when it wasn’t. Adam is an avid exerciser and could take off on the bikes like no one’s business. I struggled to keep up and on one particularly steep hill, I became so frustrated, couldn’t catch my breath, felt like I was going to faint and threw the bike down in a tantrum. Adam came back to check on me — and now, looking back he remembers a blue tint to my lips.
Adam encouraged me to make an appointment with my doctor — he had just lost a friend to a heart condition and my family has a history of heart conditions. I didn’t rush to make one, I’m not sure if I was scared to see if there was something wrong, or brushed it off that I was young and decently healthy — and it was probably just anxiety.
In December, I finally made that appointment — but it wasn’t to talk about my heart. I was anxious and overwhelmed. My doctor diagnosed me with Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), wrote me up a script for Lexapro, set an appointment for two weeks later and encouraged me to take care of myself. I started taking yoga, hoping that would help with my anxiety and my fitness level. I held my own decently well in yoga, but I was a beginner and knew that some movements might be hard and I might get winded. That’s of course, exactly what happened. However, I felt like I was getting stronger, emotionally I felt better so things were on the right track, or so I thought.
Fast forward 3 months to March 2020 — I had been welcomed back to a company I previously worked for and was so, so glad to be back. However, one day, I started to feel like my chest was heavy. I’ve never had a panic attack, but assumed it was this and asked a good friend of mine to go for a walk with me. I probably just needed fresh air — I wasn’t stressed about anything so I wasn’t sure what was going on. I called my doctor, again, assumed anxiety and set up an appointment. They said it was probably a panic attack — but with my family heart history, I pushed with my questions, was I ok? Was my heart ok?
My doctor said I was probably fine but for my own peace of mind decided to run an EKG. I’ve never had one, it wasn’t a big deal and I wasn’t overly nervous. A quick 60-seconds later, I had some answers — well honestly looking back, it was probably more of an opening of pandora’s box. I had an irregular heart beat, no big deal, a lot of people have them but my doctor set me up for an echo and stress test a week later at our local hospital. In the meantime, we upped my anxiety meds, because, you know, this was no big deal.
As you can see, there was something going on. Something very, very wrong. I’ll share more about what exactly that was next time. Until then — listen to your body. If something is wrong, it probably is!
—Chels