The first indication that there may be something wrong with my heart came while hosting a dinner party in 2002.
While laughing heartily at a fantastic joke (remind me to tell you it later), I was overcome with a sharp pain in the center of my chest. As I gasped for breath, the party quickly switched into emergency mode.
Luckily, one of our dinner guests was a registered nurse. He helped me to slow my breathing and gather my wits about me.
The pain quickly subsided and I was able to breath normally again.
“What was that?!!?” I asked half-laughing as I took a sip of wine.
“Oh, I’m sure its nothing. You just got too excited”, said my darling husband.
It would be a five long years before we both knew exactly how wrong he was.
How long have you waited for a correct diagnosis?
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