By Meghann Ackerman

It had taken me a few weeks of debating politeness versus curiosity to approach someone I barely knew and ask him about his medical history. But, I reasoned, in his introduction to the class I was coordinating he had mentioned having heart surgery—it wasn’t a secret. Still, I didn’t want to be rude.

I also knew that my motivation was selfish. I wasn’t particularly interested in his actual condition or surgical procedure; I just wanted reassurance that heart surgery was not the end of the world.

By Meghann Ackerman

Every month I tell myself that I’ll get my ACHA Blog post in early. But every month something seems to happen that has me writing up to the last minute. This month, it was a sick kitty.

While I was sitting in the vet’s office yesterday, I realized how much I know about other people’s (and cats’) health. I’ve gone with Victor to enough cardiologist appointments and ER trips that I can give you his medical history, allergies and find the list of his medications he keeps on his phone. If he was unable to answer a doctor or nurse, I could fill enough gaps to keep him safe. Ditto for our cats.

By Meghann Ackerman

It started shortly after Christmas—the pink and red boxes of chocolate popping up on store shelves, the emails for deals on romantic getaways, and the Groupons for couples massages. Yes, Valentine’s Day was less than two months away and it was time to buy hearts!

But I’m the type of girl who uses Halloween decorations for year-round decor, so long before I was hanging out in cardiology waiting rooms studying medical illustrations, I preferred the anatomical heart to the pop culture heart. It’s not all macabre, though. Giving your sweetie a card with an anatomical heart on it opens the possibility for cheesy cardiac lines, like...

By Meghann Ackerman

It must be the time of year. Santa, Jack Frost, Frosty... winter is full of mascots and spokespeople, which reminded me of an earlier blog about who should be the face of congenital heart defects. And, I think I’ve got a candidate.

The Grinch!

By Meghann Ackerman

Mid-November through the beginning of the new year is a time of decadence. Starting with the oversized bird, peaking with the spending on holiday gifts and ending with too many flutes of champagne, this is the time of year when we let moderation slip to the side and indulge some of our favorite vices.

During the rest of the year, we all still indulge from time to time and sometimes feel a pang of guilt for our unhealthy ways. But when it comes to having a congenital heart defect, where is the line between indulgence and leading a normal life?

By Meghann Ackerman

You know what’s cool? Science.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve come to realize how much science gives me without asking for anything in return. Despite barely understanding it, science keeps providing me with new ways to make my life easier, better and more fun.

I started thinking about my parasitic relationship with science last week when I got a new phone. When I got my first smartphone a couple of years ago it was cutting-edge technology. This new phone, though, is exponentially more advanced. Not only does it know when I’m looking at it, but it also gets philosophical when I ask it, “What’s the meaning of life?”

By Meghann Ackerman

There are some unintended health benefits to being married to a guy with a congenital heart defect. While trying to wean Victor off take-out Chinese and meat-only meals, I’ve started eating better. And, as an attempt to get us both exercising more, I’m learning how to roller skate.

Aggressive inline skating has been Victor’s exercise of choice since his teen years, but as the falls have started hurting more and other responsibilities take priority he’s gone to the skatepark less and less. My learning how to skate ensures Victor skates and doesn’t let one of his passions fall to the wayside. And, you know, also gets me up and active.

By Meghann Ackerman

Back in college, my best friend and I had a weekly overnight radio show. Around 4 a.m. the caffeine in our systems would hit a magical level and things would start to get weird. During those extended Velvet Underground tracks we had plenty of time to talk and, almost predictably, the subject that would come up was our funerals.

By Meghann Ackerman

If you spend much time on the internet, you’ve probably seen some version of the “I have no idea what I’m doing” meme, which usually pictures an animal in some type of human situation. When it came time to pick a new health insurance provider this summer I found myself feeling like a cat with a chemistry set or a dog behind the wheel.

By Meghann Ackerman

Chicks dig scars. Well, the chicks I roll with dig scars, anyway. When a person has scars you know that things have happened in his or her life, but usually not what happened. With Victor it was different.

Victor has a gnarly scar running down the center of his chest. You can’t miss it. I can’t remember asking about or him explaining the scar’s origin the first time I saw it, but a scar like that pretty much speaks for itself.