Did I survive breast cancer only to die of heart disease?
- Christine Carpenter
- Sep 30, 2025
- 3 min read
When I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1993, my greatest fear wasn’t chemotherapy or surgery—it was not living long enough to raise our 14-year-old daughter. At just 45 years old, my world tilted. I suddenly felt separated from my healthy friends, who could plan decades into the future, while mine seemed uncertain and fragile.
And I’ll admit it: I was angry. I had done everything “right.” I ate well, exercised regularly, never smoked, rarely drank alcohol, performed monthly breast exams, and had routine
mammograms. How could this happen to me?
But cancer doesn’t play fair.
I went through six rounds of chemotherapy with Adriamycin, Cytoxan, and 5-Fu. Afterward, a MUGA Scan confirmed my heart was functioning well, and I thought I had passed one of the last big hurdles. I doubled down on healthy living - whole foods, exercise, stress management - and assumed my only lingering threat was breast cancer coming back.
I was wrong.
When the Heart Speaks
More than two decades later, in 2015, I began waking up now and then feeling lightheaded and unusually tired. The symptoms passed within hours, so when I mentioned them to my nurse practitioner, she wasn’t concerned.
But in May 2016, I woke up with overwhelming fatigue, dizziness, and a pounding heart that felt like it might break out of my chest. That morning, I walked into the ER as a patient for the first time in my life—and walked out with a diagnosis of atrial fibrillation (AFib, an irregular, often rapid heartbeat that can lead to blood clots, stroke, and heart failure. Some people don’t even realize they have it until it causes serious complications.)
I was lucky. My AFib was caught before I had a stroke or clot. But I quickly learned that AFib is chronic, progressive, and—at least in my case—relentless. Even after transferring my care to the Mayo Clinic, my episodes worsened. My heart pounded so hard my chest would visibly rise and fall. Fatigue consumed me. Episodes struck without warning—even during something as calming as a massage.
As a breast cancer survivor, I knew the value of being informed. So, I set out to learn everything I could about AFib. I subscribed to stopafib.org, a patient-led resource, and even flew to Dallas for their annual conference, where leading cardiologists and electrophysiologists explained the latest research. The knowledge gave me a measure of
control—but it couldn’t stop the progression.
My Relentless Heart Journey
Here’s what the past decade has looked like for me:
• October 2016 – Pacemaker implanted
• March 2019 – First catheter ablation (to scar tissue and block faulty signals)
• July 2024 – Second catheter ablation + left atrial appendage occlusion (to reduce clot risk)
• September 2024 – AV node ablation (a last-resort procedure, leaving me dependent on my pacemaker for life)
• January 2025 – Pacemaker replacement (due to recall)
Each intervention came with its own risks and recovery, but each also gave me more stability and more time—time to live, time to thrive, time to keep writing my story.
Lessons from a Dual Survivor
Sometimes I’ve asked myself: Did I survive breast cancer only to face another life-threatening illness? The answer, I’ve realized, is no. I didn’t survive one to die from the
other—I’ve survived both, and along the way I’ve learned lessons that matter for every survivor:
• Your full health history matters. Some cancer treatments, like Adriamycin, can damage the heart years later. Make sure your providers know your cancer background. If they don’t take it seriously, find one who does.
• Listen to your symptoms. Fatigue, dizziness, heart palpitations—these aren’t just “normal aging.” They may be signals of something serious.
• Protect your heart. A heart-healthy lifestyle—plant-based diet, exercise, stress management—can lower your risk of both cancer recurrence and heart disease.
• Be your own advocate. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, get second opinions, or seek out resources. My trip to the stopafib.org conference connected me with knowledge and a community of survivors like me.
• Find gratitude in the fixable. So far, my heart issues have been treatable. That hasn’t always been the case with breast cancer. I don’t take that for granted.
The Bottom Line
Today, at 77, I’m still active, still thriving, and still grateful. Cancer taught me courage. Heart disease taught me vigilance. Together, they’ve shown me that survival isn’t just about living longer—it’s about living wiser.
My message to you: Whether you’re a cancer survivor or someone simply wanting to protect your future, remember this—your heart health is part of your survivorship. Don’t let it be an afterthought.




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