It was halfway through the second period, and I was chasing my first basket of the season. I’d just won the tip and already racked up two assists when the beating of my heart sped up faster than it should, even for the excitement of the game. This had happened before, so I quickly ran off the court to calm down. My coaches kept me out of the game for the rest of the half. After it faded, they put me back in the game in the 3rd, and that’s when disaster struck. I could feel my heart beating quickly and furiously in my neck, head, and chest, like the pounding of wild horses. I was forced to leave the game for a second time, hoping it would fade again, but the pounding persisted. Ten minutes passed, then thirty; it wouldn’t relent. After forty-five minutes of rest, my heart was still beating at 210 bpm and EMS was called.

That was my first basketball game of the season, the first time I’d played on a team since before the pandemic. I was so excited to play my favorite sport with all my friends. Unfortunately, whenever I exercised intensely, pushing myself to my limits, my heart rate remained too high for too long. My doctors weren’t concerned at first, but I knew that I had to be careful when playing sports. Unfortunately, the intensity of my activity triggered another episode, worse than any before, and it was terrifying. The next day, doctors confirmed I had a condition that affects the electrical pathways in my heart called Supraventricular Tachycardia, and it could be dangerous if I had another episode. My only option was to stop all exercise until a procedure could be done to fix it; in other words, I was banned from playing for the entire basketball season.

Every day waiting for the procedure felt like months. I had to decline challenges on the courts, remind myself not to play football after lunch, and sit on the sidelines during gym, watching everyone else have fun. My own heart made me an outcast, and I felt like it had turned on me. Soon, the people around me helped me realize that my time on the sidelines could be used to try new activities. My art teacher, Ms. Dowling, suggested that I spend my PE class in the art room, giving me extra time to do something that I really enjoyed. My English teacher, Mr. Wieland, thought that I might enjoy theater tech, and I was given the opportunity to learn all about the theatrical sound system and participate in the school musical, which I loved. Instead of feeling disappointed about what I was missing, I started to look forward to the new activities that I now had time to try. Before I knew it, my procedure to eliminate the condition was successfully completed, and I was cleared to play sports soon after. 

Losing the ability to play sports for the season was heartbreaking, but now I know how lucky I am to be able to do these things that so many people can’t. As I watched my first shot in months hit the net and fall through, I felt the healthy thumping of my heartbeat in my chest. I was elated that life felt normal again, and I was grateful for all the new perspective that my situation had given to me. As I dribble my way through life, I now take all my shots with the thought that each one is a gift and shouldn’t be taken for granted.