I am a Fighter - Living and Training with POTS

For years, I’ve been fighting my own body. Exhausted before my day even began. Dizzy when I least expected it. Short of breath without explanation. My heart racing while I was just standing still. My blood pressure rising without warning.

And nobody knew why.

Searching for answers

Everything was tested. Everything was examined. But nothing really gave answers. Maybe it was lactose intolerance — so I followed every rule. It improved a little. We thought: we found it. But then the symptoms came back. Maybe gluten. Again, strict diet. Again, hope. Again… disappointment.

I was even admitted to the hospital for a while. More tests. More waiting. Still no clear explanation.Imagine being young, wanting to train, wanting to live fully —and constantly feeling like your own body is working against you.

The missing piece

At the end of last year, another blood test showed my iron levels were far below normal. That finally opened a door. After discussing everything with my sport doctor, the puzzle pieces came together. I am diagnosed with POTS — Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, a form of dysautonomia.After COVID — before it was even officially known in the Netherlands — my body never fully recovered.

There is no simple medication to fix this. No quick solution. This is something I will have to learn to live with. And that realization hits hard.

What POTS means for me

POTS affects the autonomic nervous system — the system that controls things you don’t consciously think about: heart rate, blood pressure, circulation. When I stand up, my heart rate shoots up. Blood pools in my legs. I feel dizzy. Sometimes nauseous. Sometimes like I might faint. Training is not as simple anymore. Especially not when my home pool is warm. Heat makes everything worse. My heart rate rises faster. I get lightheaded. My body struggles to regulate itself. I now wear compression socks to prevent blood and fluids from pooling in my legs.I monitor hydration carefully. I work closely with my sport doctor, dietitian and specialists to figure out my limits.

My training will change. My discipline won’t.

The questions that keep me awake

Since the diagnosis, so many questions fill my mind:

·       How do I divide my limited energy over a day? I’m in my exam year. I train 6–7 times a week. I have school, recovery, life.

·       How do I prevent symptoms when standing or getting up?

·       How do I build a meaningful life despite limitations — especially when I’m only 16 and feel like my whole life is still ahead of me?

·       Can I study? Work? Plan a future the way I imagined?

·       How do I explain this invisible illness to friends, family, teachers and coaches?

·       How do I process the grief of losing my old “healthy” body?

·       How do I deal with misunderstanding or hurtful reactions?

These are not small questions. They are heavy ones. Because chronic illness isn’t just physical. It’s mental. Emotional. Social. It forces you to grow up fast.

Grieving — but not giving up

There is a part of this journey that feels like grief. Grief for the body I had. Grief for the simplicity of just training without thinking. Grief for the carefree energy I used to have. And sometimes, giving up whispers softly in the background. But here’s the thing:

I am stronger than that whisper.

Swimming is actually one of the best sports for someone with POTS. Being horizontal helps circulation. Water supports the body. So maybe — just maybe — my sport is also part of my healing.

I still have a dream.I still have goals. And I am not done fighting for them.

This diagnosis doesn’t define me

Yes, I live with dysautonomia. Yes, I have POTS. But that is something I carry — it is not who I am.I am disciplined. I am resilient. I am learning to listen to my body instead of fighting it blindly. I am adapting. I am adjusting. I am still training. And I am still dreaming.

To anyone living with POTS or a chronic condition

I see you.The invisible symptoms.The explaining and re-explaining.The frustration when your body won’t cooperate. The fear about the future.

If you are training with a chronic condition — or simply trying to live your life despite one — your experience matters. We are not weak. We are warriors in ways people don’t always see. I’m writing this blog to let some of it out. But also to let others know: you are not alone. Giving up may stand at the door sometimes. But we don’t have to open it.

My training will change.

My discipline won’t.

My dream stays alive.

I am a fighter. 🏊‍♀️💙

– Megan

#IamAFighter #NeverGiveUp #StrongMind

#Dysautonomia #POTS