Pat
Dear Mom and Dad,
 I
want to thank you for my life. You had a rough time getting me
started in this world. They said I had congenital heart disease and
that I might die. I can't imagine what that must have been like for
you...your beautiful baby girl being sick from the first moments of
life. I know you breathed every breath with me and worried about
everything else -- you still do.
You protected me but you let me grow too. How awful it would have
been to grow up so sheltered I couldn't swing on a swing or ride a
bike. Some would say that you "spoiled" me. I know my sister does.
She felt so left out because she didn't have to take medicines. I so
clearly remember seeing her climbing up to the kitchen cabinet "so
she could take medicine like Patti does." She took baby aspirin - a
lot of baby aspirin. She was 3 and I was 5 years old at the time.
Thank God that it wasn't Digoxin - she probably would have died.
Do you remember those visits to the cardiologist when I was
little? They were always special. I would wear a pretty party dress.
Do you remember that HUGE heart on his desk? I could open the doors
and look inside. I knew circulation of blood through the heart
better at age 6 than some med students do now. Even the parade of
residents with stethoscopes in handwas fun. I would point to where
they could hear the murmur the best.
Thank you for teaching me what I needed to know about my heart. I
was still pretty young when I knew what my murmur should sound like.
You didn't assume that the information would be to difficult for me
to understand and found a way to explain it. And now, because I'm
one of the oldest cardiac "kids," I frequently teach other people
who don't know about CHD. You anticipated the information that I
needed to understand. From you I learned about the term used to
describe my heart "defects," what those terms mean, what my surgery
was for and that I need to take antibiotics prior to dental
procedures and other surgeries.
Thank you for treating me like I was special and not "different."
You have told me that my scar doesn't bother you. I feel like it has
always been a part of me, I would feel strange without it. I
remember that when I had my high school graduation pictures taken
the photographer asked me if I wanted him to "touch that up." I
said, "you mean like you do for ZITS! Absolutely not, that's why I
'm here!" You never made me feel that the scar made me ugly or that
I should cover it up.
Now that I'm a Neonatal Intensive Care Nurse, I all too
frequently meet parents that are in the same position you were 35
years ago. They are worried and don't know what the future will
bring. I know that this feeling never goes away. Parents frequently
say how brave their children are. Well, I believe that it is their
parents, our parents, who know what can be lost and still let go so
that they can once again hug their children tight. You're never too
old for a hug.
I Love You with All My Heart,
Pat
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