02/05/2026
I suffered a heart attack at age 41.
No warning.
No prior concerns.
No heart-related diagnosis.
Just a heart attack at 5:00 in the morning — on the first day of my new job.
We hadn’t been in Clear Lake (or Iowa, for that matter) very long. I had no support network, no close friends, and absolutely no idea how I was going to survive my new normal. I felt completely betrayed by my own body. The same body that had carried me through 41 years of life — that had grown and birthed three children — had failed me.
The next twelve weeks were a blur. I lived in a defibrillator vest and attended cardiac rehab five days a week. I was the youngest person there by at least twenty years. I wasn’t sleeping. I wasn’t eating. I was anxious, exhausted, and scared.
It was my first summer in Clear Lake — and I wasn’t on the lake.
I left the house only for doctor’s appointments and cardiac rehab. I was terrified to go anywhere. My new rule for travel was simple: I couldn’t be farther from the hospital than I was from my house.
The local farmers market was just a few blocks away, which meant it was “safe.”
After our first visit on a warm, sunny Saturday, I told my husband the market needed a lemonade stand — like the ones we had back home in Butte, Montana. I’m sure he thought I was a little crazy, but he also knew how fragile I was. So instead of brushing it off, he supported me.
I dove in headfirst: permits, insurance, equipment, recipes — all of it. It gave me purpose beyond sitting at home worrying about whether I would need heart surgery at the end of the summer.
(Spoiler alert: I didn’t.)
I had many restrictions. I couldn’t lift or carry much of anything. My husband and our boys did all the heavy lifting — literally. That first summer at the market was incredibly special. Somewhere between the lemons, the conversations, and the smiles, I started to find myself again.
I found healing through my family.
Through my faith.
Through my customers.
What was meant to be a temporary distraction became something I never could have imagined — a food truck, a catering business, and so much more.
So tomorrow, when you get dressed, grab something red in honor of Go Red for Women.
Because heart disease doesn’t always come with warnings.
Because it doesn’t always look the way you expect.
And because survival can sometimes begin with something as simple as a lemonade stand.
❤️