My story began in January 2010, while sitting at a traffic light returning to the office. I was working as a home health physical therapist. I began having chest pain out of nowhere. I got to my office and my boss, an RN, asked me if I was OK. I told her about the chest pain. By then it was starting to progress down my left arm. She took my blood pressure, normally 98/68. It was 140/90. She called my husband and told him to meet me at the ER. I drove myself there. They ran the normal tests and diagnosed me with costochondritis. Pain meds made the symptoms go away. The pain came back six times in the next 6 months. I asked for a cardiologist referral, but was denied, due to my age (39), lack of family history, and being in shape.

My first episode caught me completely off guard on a Sunday morning in 2014. I was an active, healthy 35-year-old mother of 3. It felt like what I imagined having a heart attack would feel like. After a minute or two it stopped as suddenly as it had started and I got out of bed to start my day, I had experienced palpitations before and brushed it off as a once off.

I had about 8 more episodes before lunch time and made a deal with myself that if it continued, I would call an ambulance. I was a busy mum and didn’t want to be ‘dramatic’! It resolved by 2 p.m.

I consider myself one of the lucky ones.

I was a runner, triathlete, skier, scuba diver, etc. before my problems got severe enough to seek medical help.

Most doctors took my health decline seriously from the start.

Later, it was not uncommon for doctors who were unaware of my athletic endeavours to assume my subsequent lack of fitness was the cause of my condition rather than the result.