I had just finished caring for a patient in the intensive care unit when my cardiologist called. It was our annual phone call during which he would review the results of my yearly echocardiogram for bileaflet mitral valve prolapse. I expected the same findings I had heard every year since the age of 10 years—mild to moderate mitral regurgitation. Beyond having to forgo a potential career in powerlifting (I was not overly upset about this), I had not had any limitations placed on me by this yearly visit. I was an otherwise healthy 26-year-old internal medicine resident who hiked and ran in my free time.