In 2019, Angie Lindsey, 59, was preparing for a family event when she suddenly felt exhausted and unwell. Her nurse daughter checked her vital signs and urged her to go to the emergency room. Blood tests revealed a troponin level of 4,400, confirming a massive heart attack. Because Angie lived in a small Missouri town, she was flown 45 miles to a hospital that could treat her, and two days later received a stent. The heart attack left her with congestive heart failure, ongoing fluid retention, and forced her to retire from her job as a nursing home administrator.
Over the next several years Angie faced more health scares. In late 2022 she spent a month in the hospital when gallbladder complications threatened organ function. In January 2026 she experienced severe fluid buildup and gained 29 pounds in 12 days, describing the feeling as like carrying multiple gallons of weight around her chest and neck. She found a heart failure specialist at Mercy Hospital South near St. Louis, a two-and-a-half-hour drive from home, and wore a 30-day heart monitor that still left her care team unsure what was triggering her episodes. Sitting with family after an appointment, Angie wondered whether her life would be reduced to merely existing.
In April 2026 she received an implanted pulmonary artery pressure sensor, the CardioMEMS HERO device. About the size of a paperclip, the sensor sits in a lung artery and measures pulmonary artery pressures, which tend to rise when heart failure worsens. The implant procedure was minimally invasive and outpatient, and the device requires no battery. Each morning Angie lies on a bedside pad that sends a radio-frequency signal to the sensor; the sensor returns pressure readings that are automatically sent to her care team at Mercy South.
Charles Carey, MD, cardiologist and medical director of the heart failure program at Mercy South, explains that the device makes a daily, objective measurement of pressure inside the pulmonary artery and transmits the result directly to the clinic. That data supplements what clinicians learn from symptoms and exams, and lets them intervene earlier. The most common intervention is adjusting diuretics to reduce fluid and lower filling pressures, because preventing symptoms can often avoid emergency visits and hospital admissions. Carey notes the technology is especially helpful for patients in rural areas who cannot easily travel to see specialists.
A few days after Angie left the hospital with the sensor, her care team called to report an elevated reading and guided her through medication adjustments over the phone. By her next virtual visit the numbers were back in range. The daily measurement takes only a few minutes; Angie timed it at four minutes and 43 seconds from turning the device on until the reading was sent. That quick routine has given her a sense of control and reassurance that problems can be identified and addressed without long drives to St. Louis.
The change in her daily life has been dramatic. Angie says she no longer feels confined to her home. She has traveled to the ocean, attended a cousins reunion on the Fourth of July where she took in fireworks and an outdoor opera, and even swam in a pool without constant worry about her heart. She has trips planned she once thought impossible: a flight to Arlington, Texas, with her daughter to see a favorite band and a trip to San Francisco to participate in an Abbott town hall as an ambassador. She had not flown in more than 50 years but now feels confident enough to travel.
Retirement and illness also pushed Angie back toward an old passion: watercolor painting. Her first attempts surprised her, and a set of bluebird paintings became the start of a new creative chapter. Her work has appeared in a local art festival, a solo show, and in homes across the country. Painting gave her purpose and hope during a time when health problems could have dampened her spirit.
Angie credits the implanted sensor with restoring independence and improving quality of life. The device has allowed her team to monitor subtle changes remotely, adjust medications quickly, and keep her out of the hospital. For Angie, that means more mornings by the ocean, more art, travel with family, and the chance to encourage others living with heart failure that better days are still possible.