My story after a stroke and heart transplant
By Maureen Hennessy Pekosh
I was more worried about my daughter’s health as a Type 1 diabetic than my own. She had a history of seizures from low blood sugar. I awoke nightly to check on her and was often at school to assist when she was dangerously low. I was fairly active, though sleep-deprived. I ignored the warning signs when my activity level was impossible to maintain, assuming it was because I was hitting the big 5-0. I quit playing tennis and took frequent breaks when exercising. But when I couldn’t keep up on a walk with my kids, my family’s alarm got me to a doctor. Eventually, I was diagnosed with heart failure. I didn’t understand how I could be alive if my heart was failing.
My cardiologist assured me that with the right medicines, I could lead a fairly normal life. I shared that I was losing my peripheral vision, getting tingling in my fingers and toes, that I had an autoimmune blood-clotting disorder and used to take a baby aspirin daily. He said not to worry. My heart was just too weak to pump blood to my extremities. Days later, I felt faint in the shower and my left hand suddenly froze on the top of my head. Luckily, my daughter heard me fall and got help.
I woke up in the middle of the night staring at an unfamiliar ceiling with my hands tied to the bed and a tube down my throat. Confused, I tried to get anyone’s attention. Why all this for fainting in the shower? I was told I had a stroke. Another condition I didn’t understand because I never thought it would happen to me. I was told that since I had been successfully treated with tPA, I should again be able to lead a fairly normal life.
My life has been anything but normal. Five hundred ninety-seven after my stroke, I received a heart transplant. I was a rule follower who did her research and had a great group of family and friends to support me. My team believed I could pave the way for stroke survivors to receive transplants. Unbeknownst to me, I did.
About a month after my stroke, I began walking like Igor and couldn’t lift my left arm. After my transplant, I learned there were two areas of damage in my brain. I went to rehab but was told too much time had passed, and I would never walk unassisted. I enrolled in a local study, where I regained the ability to flex my ankle and bend my knee. After continued rehab, I walk independently, though not quickly, and am still balance-challenged. A year after transplant, I was told I have chronic rejection, a buildup of plaque in four of my arteries. The extra meds I take have caused kidney failure.
I appreciate things I used to take for granted. I don’t like being called a miracle. I am determined, inquisitive and stubborn. I want to define my future and then do everything in my power to make it happen. I help other women living with heart disease by running a local support group. I tell them no matter what you are facing, you are stronger than you know and capable of more than anyone else believes.
For more information on this topic, visit www.heart.org.
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