by E K Stapleton

Created on: October 12, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

After my fifty two year old grandmother succumbed to a short, but ferociously fought battle with heart disease, her cardiologist recommended my mother and us kids undergo some screening tests. At the time I was six, and really thought nothing of it. All tests were clear, but he suggested we be tested annually for several more years. The results were always the same, until I was twelve. That's when all those previous tests had no relevance, as this was the one with the greatest impact. Grandma's condition was genetic, and I had inherited it (but hey, I also inherited her plentiful endowment in the bust department).

Even at twelve I really didn't comprehend the severity of the diagnosis. Let's face it, at that age we're all invincible and nothing bad comes our way, it's just not the way the world works. In a perfect world this would be true, but the reality was, I was suffering from sub-aortic valvular stenosis. Simply put, for some unknown reason my valve continues to become narrow, kind of like an old pipe with years worth of grime and build up inside, restricting adequate blood flow to allow my heart to function properly.

The cardiologist had a barrage of information for my mom and I, regarding medication, strenuous exercise, surgery, diet and routine testing. Changes had to be made, but I've never been one to back down from a challenge. I had always competed in cross country running, but I now became easily winded, exhausted and flushed, meaning I had to give it up. This gave me more time to focus on soccer and competitive swimming. I learned not to dwell on what I couldn't do and be grateful for what I could still do.

At an age when I hadn't yet even considered having children, the doctor suggested I shouldn't. He feared the stress of carrying a baby and giving birth would be more than my heart could handle. As it turns out, not having a child was more than my heart could handle. I'm no fool, I immersed myself in months of research and consulted with numerous specialists, before deciding motherhood was possible. At the age of twenty six I gave birth to the most beautiful, perfect baby boy, and lived to tell about it. I knew that was it for me though. I couldn't repeatedly tempt fate, and I had already gotten more than I could ever hope for.

The testing continues on a routine basis, to monitor the progression of the stenosis. It's become common place, when I have an echocardiogram, which bounces sound waves off the walls of your heart, for the technician to inform

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