Fifty-three years ago, in April 1972, I arrived at Sainte-Justine by ambulance, in an incubator, on my very first day of life — turning blue and critically ill.
The next day, I had a cardiac catheterization. On day three, my first open-heart surgery. A second at age 6. A third at 19, when I received a mechanical aortic valve. It was life-changing — blood and oxygen could finally flow freely.
My parents supported me every step of the way.
I pursued university studies and have been teaching mathematics at the college level for 28 years. I am married. I am now on my second pacemaker, as repeated surgeries and high pressure eventually affected my heart’s electrical system.
But I am fully alive. I am aging, yes — but alive and happy.
To all the parents of heart warriors: their lives will be beautiful. Do not be afraid.