When you live inside a clinical trial for years, it becomes more than just a medical study. It becomes part of your life story. Five years is a long time.  It is filled with appointments, travel, tests, forms, and scans. It means having people checking on you constantly and knowing you are part of something much bigger than yourself. When it ended, I felt like a major chapter of my life was closing. A few things were happening at the same time: I was a patient, but I was also

This is the fourth post in our short series explaining the new global guidelines (ICH E6(R3)) through real patient experience, not complicated policy terms. Technology is everywhere in healthcare now, and clinical research is no different. You might hear terms like: Electronic consent (e-consent) Online portals Virtual visits Remote monitoring The Theory vs. the Reality In theory, all of this is meant to make research easier. Technology can be a real help when patients don’t

Everyone loves the miracle story. Hospice. No options left. Then a clinical trial. Then a second chance. For me, that second chance came through the early feasibility study of the EVOQUE transcatheter tricuspid valve replacement. I later continued follow-up as part of the TRISCEND II research studying this therapy for people living with severe tricuspid regurgitation, But what people don’t talk about very often is what happens after the miracle. When the swelling finally s

When people talk about clinical trials, they often talk about outcomes, data, and approvals. But what mattered most in my journey wasn’t just that a trial existed. It was how supported or unsupported I felt while living inside it. Behind every study are real people trying to survive long enough to reach the next option. And sometimes the hardest part isn’t the science. It’s the space in between. Here are some of the realities I lived through that rarely show up in trial repor