Sports and CVD Part 1: The Downside
In my experience, exercise and CVD are a balance that is sometimes difficult to maintain. Exercise is essential to support cardiovascular health, yet it is made all the more necessary, yet all the more difficult due to the presence of cardiovascular disease.
Therefore, in my experience of the illness and the treatments which were conducted to treat it, there is a growing fear of particular sports and exercise as a whole. While I have critical congenital cardiovascular disease, and therefore, have had to deal with it since birth, I was allowed to participate in active sports such as skiing until the age of seven. I loved flying down the mountain and being active only to reach the end of the slope and go inside for a cup of hot chocolate just as the afternoon snowstorm blew in. What’s more is that I could do that even with a pacemaker. However, after adding mechanical heart valves to the growing armory of devices in my chest, I could no longer participate in that sport. This was not due to the valves but to the blood-thinners and the increased likelihood of injury.
So, in the winter, instead of skiing, I took up cross-country skiing and snowshoeing, which aesthetically put me in the same beautiful snowy environment I loved, but it was so much effort with so little emotional/adrenaline-based payoff that I lost interest as a kid. Furthermore, two sprained ankles for reasons of not raising my foot high enough or falling to the side for no good reason rather than having a far better story that skiing down the slopes could provide, which my skiing family memory routinely provides, ultimately made me feel like I was honestly held back from participating in sports due to my illness.
In the summer, I went swimming and horse riding (without my doctor’s permission) when I could. Bikeriding was optional, but it also was another one of those sports that could potentially cause undue injury, and after getting multiple deep blue bruises on my legs, I found it best to take a break and never went back to it.
Yet, by the time I was allowed to go skiing again, at age 18, when no one could legally tell me ‘no.’ I went back to the slopes. At first, I was understandably nervous. However, after a few turns and swerves, I regained my old rhythm from decades ago. The faster I went, the more the old smile returned. However, suddenly, someone started yelling behind me, and my elder sibling (a master skier by that point) crashed into me. The assumption was that I would crash even though I had everything under control. Unfortunately, I realized that the fear of injury had impacted not only my view of the world and sports but also my family’s, for it was more important to be vigilant of what could potentially hurt me than what actually was hurting me. It was the most well-meaning reason, to preserve my health and my wife, but such actions and the assumption behind it damaged my confidence and faith in the soul of the sport and in myself more than I realized at the time.
It is not just you who your illness impacts, but your friends and family as well. So sometimes this can manifest in overprotectiveness from them, which, for better or for worse, can be transplanted onto you. As a result of this, my confidence shattered all over again. I rarely hit the slopes anymore because being around people who mean well, but look out for the worst, is not a healthy way to deal with a sport you love.
Someday, I hope to ski again and to regain the courage it gave me all those years ago. But first, I will need to deal with the fear the CVD and its treatments instilled in me in the most well-meaning way, as I balance my need for exercise with what makes me happy, even in sports.
That was why, in college, I joined the fencing team. This worked perfectly as the inevitable bruises were earned, and I felt I was accomplishing something. I had a group of friends, and it was a grand time. However, when it came to competing, the contestants were required to wear an electric vest that would beep whenever the sword tip touched it. This made recording weapon strikes easier than just by eyesight and touch alone. However, this vest would potentially compromise the functioning of my pacemaker and, therefore, could compromise my heart.
I stopped fencing as a sport and, just like in the other sports, I had to watch the others move on while I had to stay behind because of my need to maintain my cardiovascular health, which was compromised by the very devices that kept me alive.
Now, as an adult, I walk multiple miles several times a week as often as I can.
I do not mean to be the bearer of bad news nor to discourage anyone from putting their health first, but to not acknowledge the potential downsides or the experiences of someone like me who has dealt with this illness since birth, I believe, would be shortsighted.
While yes, CVD and the devices that came from it have held me back over the years, arguably my own fear, instilled by the fear of others, also had a part to play, it did not stop me from participating in sports entirely. I just had to pivot to find something that I could do safely and with adherence to the needs of my condition.
Yes, I did have to stop participating in these sports I loved. I lost friend groups along the way and had to watch them continue, leaving me behind as a natural consequence of their ability and my inability. However, I took part in the first place. That is what should be remembered. You don’t know you can or can’t do something until you try, even if you have a heart condition.
Who can relate?
#CVD #sports #skiing #family #courage #fear #sacrifice #heartdisease