Grandma Dorothy holding me at 5 months of age In February, 1974 when my mom took me home from the hospital, she thought she had a perfectly healthy baby. But when her mom came for a visit five weeks later to see her granddaughter, she asked why my lips looked discolored. Grandma Dorothy also noticed I slept a lot, even for a newborn. Mom assured Grandma she would ask the doctor about it during my six-week checkup. Mom took me to the same clinic in Wolf Point, Montana, where I had been born. She and Dad were living in a tiny town called Luster, where Dad worked as a ranch hand. My regular pediatrician was unavailable. A young doctor, fresh out of medical school, examined me instead. Dr. Mattley quickly agreed the bluish tint to my lips was disconcerting and because of it dubbed me a blue baby. “Her body isn’t getting enough oxygen, which is why her lips and fingernails are cyanotic,” he said. He also detected a heart murmur. An X-ray confirmed a possible heart defect. F