Besides, I know I won’t have to see him anytime soon—oreverif I can help it. The last I heard, he graduated from Avandale and had no plans on college. I don’t care what he’s doing as long as he’s far from me.

Tearing my mind from the running thoughts, Sunny, my golden retriever, stands up and stretches her cute legs as a big yawn overtakes her sweet face.

“Big stretch, baby girl,” I swoon, reaching over and running my fingers across that ultra-soft spot on her snout.

I’ve had Sunny since I graduated from high school—a gift from my aunts. While a lot of individuals with POTS don’t have service dogs, I’m lucky to have her. She’s able to detect an episode coming on before I can. But more than her gifts, she’s my best friend and my anchor. I don’t usually go many places without her, and I can’t imagine that changing much now that we’re here.

We are a package deal, and when I enrolled at HEAU, they were more than happy to accommodate, giving me a large corner room with a private, grassy, fenced-in area they’d installed, with direct sliding-glass-door access right inside my unit.

I’m a quiet person who enjoys keeping to myself. Well, Sunny doesn’t count; she’s a part of my soul. People always talk about finding your soulmate in love, but there is something special about meeting your soul-pet. The one who finds you when you need them most, who loves you unconditionally.

Sunny is mine.

Besides, she’s an active girl with loads of energy, and she needs more room to play around inside. Along with walks and enrichment activities.

I cried the first time she jumped into my lap. I’d never known I had a hole in my heart for her to fill until it was bursting at the seams with love. She’s not only my best friend, but my protector too.

She’s trained to detect if my heart rate and blood pressure are starting to get too high. She will nudge my hand with her head and even bark and signal me by sitting on my feet if I don’t notice her first attempt.

I also have my watch that I wear if I don’t have Sunny with me, but aside from a handful of situations, she’s typically with me so I don’t need to use it.

When she signals, I know I’m at risk of a flare-up. Once she lets me know, I get my water and find a good place to sit down, preferably a place where I can put my legs up to avoid blood pooling in my feet.

Sometimes, my body will regulate itself after a few minutes. And sometimes, my body makes it feel like it’s fighting against itself. It can be frustratingly unpredictable. Both in its longevity and its symptoms.

POTS patients’ experiences can have similarities, but each still unique.

Everyone has a different journey with POTS. Some have various triggers or stressors that I don’t, and I have struggles that others don’t. I think that’s what can be most frustrating with the invisible illness—there’s no simple solution for any of us. We just have to listen to our body and let it be our guide, whether we want to or not.

I mean, of course, some of our symptoms are the same—muscle fatigue, brain fog, body temperature regulation, a risk of fainting, and more.

One of the most frustrating parts of getting diagnosed is learning how it affects you because there isn’t a handbook built just for your symptoms and body. You have to teach yourself how to navigate it, listening intently to your body.

Luckily, a few pills help me regulate my symptoms for the most part, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still have bad days. Days that require me to lie in bed with my feet elevated, resting until the episode passes. Sometimes, it’s just a few hours, sometimes an entire day, and occasionally, it’s multiple days. But thankfully, I haven’t had a flare-up that bad in quite a while.

But the biggest misconception of POTS is that a lot of people assume that we just pass out when we stand up or get lightheaded. Although that may occasionally be true, that is the tip of the iceberg. I’ve only lost consciousness a handful of times over the last year.

It was worse when I was first diagnosed, until I learned how to manage my symptoms. And until I got on medication to help regulate my heart rate.

It’s the little things that affect me the most. Watching what I eat so my sugar isn’t too high, making sure I always stay hydrated, listening to my body, even when I don’t want to. The headaches, the muscle fatigue, the lightheadedness—I could go on and on.

I know I’m one of the luckier ones when it comes to POTS, and I’ll never take that for granted, even when it feels impossible.

I don’t think it’s very common for individuals with POTS to have service dogs, but I’m grateful for Sunny nonetheless.

My aunts planned on getting me a puppy when I graduated, and when they found out that there were POTS service dogs, they knew they had to follow that path. But I can say that since I’ve had her, the episodes are so much smoother.

She can detect it in me far faster than I can. She’s made all the difference during our time together, especially easing my transition of moving here.

Stress can be a big trigger for my symptoms, and having her to keep me company has been the biggest blessing. And when I go on adventures without her, I wear my watch that keeps my heart rate.

We moved into our room three days ago, and I’m finally unpacked. Instead of keeping the small twin bed they usually provide, I had a queen bed brought in since I have so much extra space.

Besides, Sunny needs her spot next to me. We’ve never spent a night apart. And fitting us both in a twin bed would have beensnug.

The rooms here may be excessively large, but I’m not complaining. And it’s part of what HEAU is known for—the opulence and extravagance threaded into every inch of the campus.

But I suppose when your student body is composed of some of the wealthiest families in the world, money isn’t hard to come by.