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When I was 17 years old, I collapsed on my driveway after shooting a jump shot. We were playing basketball, like we often did. This time my feet went out from under me when I came down from the shot.

My heart was beating so hard that my shirt was shaking wildly. I knew what was wrong – sort of. As a teenage athlete, like so many teenage athletes, I thought rapid heartrate was normal during competition. I had experienced it many times. This was as bad as it had ever gotten, but even lying there, with friends gathered around me, I couldn’t convince myself that this was anything out of the ordinary.

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