April was young when she developed heart disease. “I was 42. It was the last thing I expected,” she tells me. “When my physician gave me the diagnosis, I was in shock. Sure, my diet wasn’t perfect. I smoked a bit, a habit I’d never been able to break. I always planned to exercise but it never quite seemed to work out between work and raising kids and trying to enjoy those rare moments of alone time with my husband. But heart disease wasn’t even on my mind.”
For April, the news wasn’t just unexpected; it was devastating. “I was consumed by guilt and by fear of death. Any time I felt any twinge in my chest I was convinced this was it.” Her doctor, however, was far more optimistic. With the right medications and lifestyle changes, he believed that April would be able to successfully manage her condition and minimize risk of major adverse events. “I wrote down every single thing he told me and went home and planned to do it all. I was going to exercise, I was going to eat a perfect diet, I wasn’t going to smoke ever again.”
“But I couldn’t do it,” she says. “I took sick leave from work, determined to get myself together, but I could barely get out of bed, nevermind walking the 10,000 steps a day and doing the yoga and preparing the healthy meals I had envisioned. And the idea of giving up smoking at that time seemed crazy. In fact, I wanted to smoke more than ever.”
When April went back to her doctor, she was sure he was going to admonish her for her lack of adherence to his instructions. But he didn’t. “Instead of telling me to just power through and do the diet, do the exercise, quit the smoking, he told me I needed treatment for depression. And the goal of the treatment wasn’t just to allow me to make the lifestyle changes he suggested; the danger now wasn’t simply me not eating enough vegetables or not going for a run. The depression itself—not just its behavioral symptoms—was putting me at new risk.”



