Louise Droguet: A New Heart, A New Way of Living

My journey with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy

I’m 25 years old, I work in communications, I live in Paris, and I’m originally from Brittany.

I was diagnosed very young — I was two years old — with familial hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.

When you’re a child, it’s not always easy to understand why you can’t do what your friends do. There were things I couldn’t do like everyone else. Those were complicated moments.

But at the same time, I discovered other things. I discovered music. I discovered life a bit differently. I grew up differently. And honestly, I think I adapted quite well.

When heart failure became real

In middle school, around 15, I started my first treatments. I was beginning to develop heart failure — chronic fatigue, severe breathlessness. It affected my schooling. At some point, given certain developments and my family history, doctors told me I would need a defibrillator.

It was my first real discovery of what that meant — and it’s quite impressive when you hear it for the first time. But at the same time, it reassured me enormously. It wasn’t just a guardian angel — it was something concrete that was protecting me.

Then, one year later, I was told I would need a transplant. Everything happened very fast. Within three months, I had received a new heart.

There was this strange mix of emotions: excitement — “okay, I’m going to have a new heart” — and at the same time, the realization that my disease had deteriorated to the point where my life was in danger. I don’t think I will ever experience so many emotions at once like that again.

Four years after my transplant

Today, I am four years post-transplant. There are ups and downs. My relationship with my body has completely changed. My limits have been redefined. But at the same time, I can do so many more things now. I can try different sports. I can test myself in ways I couldn’t before.

When I talk about my transplant or my cardiomyopathy, I can say it has been one of the hardest things in my life — but also one of the most beautiful. It may sound cliché, but it’s true.

There are days when it’s very hard, when I wish I had never had this. It’s not always easy to find the positive. But with the support of family, psychologists, and the right guidance, it’s possible.

From patient to advocate

At the beginning, I didn’t want to talk about it. I needed time for myself.

After one or two years, when I felt better, I told myself it might be a good idea to get involved in an association — especially one that had supported me when I was a child: the Ligue contre la Cardiomyopathie.

I thought it would be great to help continue that work — to create lasting patient days again, to rebuild connections between patients and healthcare professionals.

For us at the Ligue, we have three main goals:

• Support patients at diagnosis and give them tools to understand their disease and become more autonomous, while also standing alongside their families and loved ones.

• Finance research.

• Recreate those meaningful moments between patients and caregivers.

Working with Mended Hearts Europe has been a real opportunity. They came with concrete tools that had already worked elsewhere. We helped adapt them to France — adjusting language, explanations, and tools to our reality. It’s a very constructive exchange, with a lot of listening. And honestly, I can’t wait to see what comes next.

To those at the beginning of this journey

Any diagnosis is a huge upheaval. I won’t say I always felt positive — I didn’t. But with time and support, I’ve been able to see what this journey has brought me.

Today, I sometimes struggle to imagine who I would be without it. It has changed me. It has shaped me. It has opened doors I never expected.

And part of my mission now, through the Ligue, is to help others find their way through that upheaval too.