Heart Warrior: Begins.

My name is Paul, and I am a Heart Warrior. 

This is the name that many Congenital Heart Disease Patients label themselves. We even sometimes name our hearts. Mine, well mine is called….

Iron heart. (Why? A story for another time)...

I was born with Transposition of the Great Arteries, Pulmonary Stenosis and Multiple VSD’s. In short, my ticker is damaged, and I am wired like my Dad's old Ford Cortina. Also, I’m kinda not supposed to be here. I really should be dead. When I was born my parents were advised that I wouldn’t survive the year. I was baptised in my front room, and went back and forth to Guys Hospital for check ups and so on and so forth. I survived the year, and with several operations over the years, here I am today: 34 years old, with an astounding future wife, two children and a job for the ambulance service. 

One of the scariest things about having CHD is the unknown. As a lot of us weren’t meant to get to adulthood, nobody really knows just how far we can go. I’ve been told that it is highly unlikely I will be around for grandchildren, with my current Ford Cortina hot wired heart. That information is based on the current condition of my left ventricle. Obviously this doesn’t take into account any future breakthroughs in cardiology or a transplant. 

I hope to see my boys as adults, that is my aim and my quest. Anyway… enough of the morbid stuff.

The idea of this blog, is for me to share stories of living with CHD, how I cope with parenthood, funny stories, films, and all that jazz. I want this to be a positive experience. I want people to read, watch, listen and smile and laugh. Even in some of my darkest and difficult times, there has always be a bright spark or a shooting star that has helped me cling onto hope. Just like the time when my Dr’s decided for me to have an MRI, whilst chemically inducing my heart to race, and when they put the needle in my groin I flinched, giggled, and what seemed like in slow motion. My penis... sorta... kinda... well... actually did... wave at the entire team of Dr’s behind the glass. 

Or like today, when I took my son Teddy down to Lancing seafront. We counted the kites, and the stones on the beach (we got to 20). I was having a few palpitations and was about to go sit in the car for a rest when a dog ran up to Teddy. I said to Teddy, ‘Look Ted, it's a Dog!’ Teddy gave the dog a big cuddle, turned around and said, ‘No Daddy. It's a Wet Dog’. You probably had to be there to feel the full extent of the hilarity, but hey. I was nearly pissing myself. 

Until next time...