First, thank you—whether you found this page because you’ve read Misdiagnosed for Miles, you’re curious about my journey, or you just stumbled across it—I’m so glad you’re here.
This blog is an extension of the story I told in my book, and as I sit here reflecting, I can’t believe it’s been nearly a year and a half since my successful adrenalectomy—the second of two major surgeries that defined my 2023.
If you haven’t read the book, here’s the short version: I spent over 17 years battling brutal symptoms—chronic headaches, crisis-level high blood pressure, heart palpitations, extreme edema (among other issues)—and no one could figure out why. I saw countless doctors over the years, and while some ran tests and genuinely tried to help, they were focused on the wrong things. I was misdiagnosed (or brushed off in some cases) over and over again.
In 2023, I was finally diagnosed with primary hyperaldosteronism, a rare condition caused by an adrenal tumor that throws your entire system out of whack. I had surgery to remove the tumor in October—and everything changed.
So, for those of you who’ve read Misdiagnosed for Miles, you’ll understand the magnitude of what I’m about to say. And for those who haven’t: just know that this isn’t just a comeback. It’s a new life.
Here’s an update:
I haven’t taken a single blood pressure med since October 17, 2023.
I haven’t had a single headache. Not one. I haven’t even thought about buying a bottle of Excedrin—and there are no painkiller meds in my house.
It still feels surreal. To wake up and feel normal—no pounding head, no swollen legs or feet, no “headache eyes”—it’s a freedom I honestly thought I’d never have again.
Of course, there’s a mix of joy and sadness. I lost so many years to a misdiagnosed medical nightmare. That grief is real. But I can’t waste time looking back. Now it’s all about what’s next.
I’m 50 ½. And I’m going to race again.
In 2024, I laced up for the first time in years. I wanted to see where my body was at, so I signed up for a few 5Ks:
In August, I went to a 5K trail run at Nashoba Mountain with my former college roommate. Took a lot of guts, but I completed the run in one piece. The middle mile was a climb—literally and figuratively. My time? 24:36. Legitimately 7 minutes slower than my younger self. But I was pleased to have completed it.
In October, I ran my hometown Pumpkin Festival 5K, hoping to beat my Nashoba time. I finished in 23:50. Progress. I even went to the track a couple of times after that to work on my “speed.” Some 200-meter repeats never killed anyone, right?
I entered a 5K turkey trot the day after Thanksgiving and thought it would be awesome to see 22:00 on the clock. I finished in 21:58! That one felt like a real turning point. Strong, steady, grateful. Perspective is everything.
During all this, Misdiagnosed for Miles was released on Amazon—and I was overwhelmed by the response. From being featured on the Primary Aldosteronism Foundation website and in an article in New England Runner magazine, to receiving messages from readers sharing their own battles—it was powerful and humbling.
This winter, I logged treadmill miles. Not flashy. Not fast. But consistent. Now, spring is here. I’m excited to get outside, run a little faster, a little farther, and try to race a little at some point. I’m rebuilding—and I think I’m ready.
My goals now are grounded and clear:
Run healthy. Run smart.
This year, I’d like to be competitive in the 50+ age group.
Thanks for being here. Whether you’ve read the book, lived through your own medical maze, or just love running stories—I appreciate you. And if you know someone who might need to hear this, Misdiagnosed for Miles is available on Amazon, Audible, and Apple Books.
The next chapter starts now.
Leave a Reply