My story begins with an ending…. April 1989… I was 16 when my mother was at the age of  39 years he passed away due to a Dilated Cardiomyopathy, of which, at that moment, I had only a minimal knowledge.

In any case, inexorable, pain "becomes aware" with the passing of time and with it also the ability of each of us to pigeonhole and order the components of one's life, among other things also the idea that you could be, perhaps one day, at risk of "heart disease due to hereditary factors".

On a systematic annual basis, I underwent checks by my trusted cardiologist who remained the same as my mother was treating. He was an important figure in my life, he had experienced the wear and tear of my mother's illness and the doctor / patient relationship that united us, which I do not dare to describe as familiar, was however and certainly particular, of someone who seems to have known you forever and who every year awaits you providential for cardiological control.

At each of his annual checkups there was a kind of benevolent and positive persistence in looking for some alteration on the horizon, a benevolent and positive interest in obstinately verifying all the values, parameters and indications that could arouse interest, a benevolent and positive expectation that like a sort of genetic clock at 39/40 years old began to make you feel the first signs of how nature and the good Lord had created you.

And it all began, a small ECG alteration, stress test, dynamic ECG, coronary arteries, magnetic resonances, genetic investigations that identify a particular gene, potentially malignant arrhythmias that require the implantation of a subcutaneous defibrillator that interrupts them when they suddenly appear. And then, and on and on without missing anything, all calmly and slowly over ten years with a single and constant evaluation of the initial Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy then quickly transformed into Dilated. The only common denominator is the gradual loss of function of my heart muscle.

Meanwhile, life continued, I was already a father, I continued my business as an entrepreneur in the second generation of a small family business, I separated, I changed my home and obviously I complicated my life but without losing my innate unconsciousness in facing life. knows me defines me as an egoist in relationships and feelings but in reality I believe that it is the bill to pay for those who try to be well and in balance with themselves.

The idea I have of my sick heart is strange, I come to consider it as a last physical bond with my Mother, it embitters me very much but paradoxically it gives me strength and energy in trying to "bite" tomorrow.

For some months the word "transplant" has been echoing in my head more and more redundant. I am aware that it is my only expectation and / or indication for a tomorrow which, even if full of uncertainty, fears and complications, is still something to count on and hope for.