Three years ago, I could not take more than 10 to 15 steps without having to rest. I could not talk a whole sentence without gasping for air.
Three years ago, I thought that I might have only 5 to 7 years left of my life before my heart failed.
Three years ago, I got stem cells in Tijuana Mexico.
I remember walking – attempting to walk – through downtown San Diego the day before and I was so exhausted. Just walking around the block tired me out so much that I had to rest. I was scared. Hopeful. Out of options. Willing to try anything that could possibly help me. I had nothing else to lose.
My hubs and my awesome in-laws took the journey with me and we made the best of our time together. Not knowing what to expect, but praying for a miracle, we did it. The doctor’s sister picked us up and we traveled down to Mexico. I got a high dose of vitamin C and some other vitamins, while the stem cells defrosted at room temperature. Then they were injected into my arm. The whole process maybe took about a half of a day.
Then we drove back to San Diego, and she dropped off my father-in-law, and I back at the hotel…and then we prayed. I remember waking up every day wondering if I would feel better, breathe better… Nope, not yet.
I continued to nurture myself, remain positive, and keep myself busy with little chores around the house, while I waited for what seem like an eternity. Every day was like Groundhog Day to me.
Until one day, I walked up the stairs, and I noticed that I wasn’t out of breath. I remember I was home alone. My eyes darted back and forth, kind of like… Is it really happening? It was. So what did I do? I went back downstairs and put my workout clothes on and jumped on my peloton… something I thought that I would have to sell. You know, just to see. Then I rode for 15 minutes. I cried. Could this really be? The next day, I walked on my treadmill. Cried some more…and wrote on the mirror in the gym….
“One step, one breath at a time. You can do this.” It’s still there now.
The stem cells, along with God, save my life.
Michael and I were talking this morning about all of this, and he still tells me that the best day of his life was not the day that we were married, but the day that I got my heart cath a few months later.
The doctor said I didn’t have pulmonary hypertension, and that my blood pressure between my heart and lungs was now at “athlete level.”
Looks like I’ll be sticking around for longer than 5 to 7 years now… God willing.
As I write this, I am filled with gratitude and a tear in my eye. I have been given a second chance… well, actually, now a third chance… at living and I am forever grateful.
If you have a questions for me about stem cells, feel free to reach out.
Over the past few years, I have sent many people down to the same place that I went with miraculous results.