By Ashley Nuxoll
I was born with a congenital heart defect called bicuspid aortic stenosis. My parents names are Terri and Cliff all they knew was that they were getting a beautiful, healthy baby girl. Only to find out a couple of days later that their baby had a heart murmur that was found in the aortic valve.
My parents were devastated, scared and worried about the unknown; I mean what parent wouldnt would be? Through infancy and early childhood I didnt really know what was wrong with me. I dont think I even knew I had a heart condition. As a baby I had a heart catheterization, and every six months I was going to see my cardiologist in Spokane, Washington, three hours from my home.
As I grew up, I would attempt to play everything from kickball to tetherball to tag. I would also run as required in gym class. Occasionally I would go on archery hikes with my parents. After awhile my parents and I started noticing that I was having a hard time catching my breath and keeping up with my fellow classmates and friends. I didnt know why this was happening, and I was frustrated.
Everything started making sense on one summer day when my mom and I sat down on the couch to have a long discussion. I was about 10 years old at this point. I dont remember many details of the conversation other than my mom telling me I needed to have surgery. One thing I do remember is her telling me about all the surgical instruments the doctors were going to use on me.
At that point I was freaking out, and I remember I ran to my neighbors house balling my eyes out. I may be over exaggerating about what happened since I was only 10 and that was over 15 years ago. I couldnt imagine how my parents felt having to tell me I needed heart surgery. Thats scary for anyone.
With all of this being said, at only 10 years old I had open-heart surgery. They did what was called the Ross procedure. Since my aortic valve was severely narrowed, they took that out and put my healthy pulmonary valve in its place. Then to take my pulmonary valves place I received a human donor valve.
I know my parents originally had the option for different valves I could receive mechanical, pig valve or human valve. They had to do a lot of research to see what would be the best option for a 10-year-old girl. I mean, this was back in 2002. Technology wasnt as advanced as it is now. I do have to say I have been very happy with the result.
At the time I lived in a small town called Cottonwood, Idaho. My surgery was over three hours away. My mom, dad and I drove up the day before since the procedure was at 7 in the morning. I remember going to an IHOP the night before to eat dinner. I had a sandwich with this unique sauce on it, and I was so sick from it that night at the hotel. The throwing up would not stop, and we were worried my surgery would be canceled the next morning. Fortunately when we all woke up the sickness stopped and we were able to walk into the hospital bright and early.
I remember walking into the hospital doors with sweaty, clammy hands, not sure what was going to happen. The hospital had its distinct smell of disinfectant and freshly cleaned carpet. The nurses and staff were all very nice to me. They got me to my room and in my gown.
Of course they made me pee in a cup to make sure I wasnt pregnant. Once they had the IV connected and everything hooked up we had a doctor come into the room to tell us that my surgery was postponed because of an emergency case that had to be done first.
The minutes seemed like seconds, hours seemed like minutes, and before I knew it the clock struck 11 a.m. and the surgeon came in and said they were ready for me. Chills came over me instantly. All I remember at that point was going into an elevator with my mom, dad and some nurses pushing my bed.
Right before we got off I thought I heard my dad laughing, but once we all got out of the elevator I noticed his face was bright red with his hand over his face crying. That was the first time I have ever seen my dad cry. I didnt know how to react at that point. I turned over to my mom instantly and saw her eyes tear up. I asked her what was wrong, and she said everything was OK, which of course I didnt believe.
I started crying, and she told me she loved me and everything was going to be OK. Then my dad came over and told me he loved me and gave me a kiss on the forehead. The nurse came over and told me she was putting something in my IV to make me sleepy. Five minutes later my eyelids were getting heavy. I took one last look around and saw the big, open operation room on the other side of the glass and that was it, complete darkness took over.
Six-and-a-half hours later, I woke up. I saw lights and heard beeping on the monitors, tubes coming out of every direction imaginable. The room was dark; the only light came from the hall with my door open. I could feel that my throat was dry.
The first thing I said was, Where are you, Mom? No one answered for a few minutes, then a nurse came in and told me where I was and what was going on. She gave me a small cup of ice chips and my mom instantly came in.
My mom and dad told me those six-plus hours were the longest hours of their lives. They were pacing back and forth to the cafeteria from the waiting room. It was too hard seeing patients family members come and go in the waiting room. They also observed a couple with a young son my age who was having the same procedure being told that his kidneys were failing.
I couldnt imagine what was going through their heads. Just imagine the idea of giving your 10-year-old child to a complete stranger to fix their broken heart? Would you give them the chance of a second life knowing that their life could end right there and then? Never seeing them again?
This is a small glimpse of the childhood of someone with my condition. Today I am 26 years old. Still with the same valve, no other surgeries since then. I am one person in 110 who is diagnosed with a congenital heart condition. I will need to have another surgery in my life again, probably more than one.
As I live my adult years, I still go to my annual cardiologist appointments to have my echocardiogram and my EKG. I have completed the Warrior Dash within the last year. I have three tattoos; I have experienced love and lost it all in a matter of two years; and I was finally able to give back and donate blood for the first time.
This year I am starting a nursing program and hope to make something of myself. My condition and my experience as a patient makes me want to care for others, especially children. I hope to one day get married and have kids of my own.
I dont know whats in store for me the next five or even 10 years. However, I know I have beat all odds lasting this far on just one surgery. I am a very lucky individual, but when it is time for me to have another surgery, I know I will overcome it like I did this last one.
I am a warrior; I am proud of what I have become; I am proud to show off my scar and tell my story to others. I only hope to inspire people like myself to stay positive and move forward in their lives.
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