Even when White Rock author Juliet Sullivan is writing about the grimmest of topics, she can still find something to joke about. 

Her dry, droll asides and humorous digressions from her main narrative can catch you off-guard and leave you chuckling. 

It鈥檚 an endearing, characteristic trait of the British-born writer that, far from distracting from her message, makes it all the more relatable. 

Mother of two, former real estate agent, entrepreneur, perpetual traveller and bon vivant (her somewhat chaotic lifestyle included a family Christmas tree business in England that necessitated maintaining a foot in both Canada and the U.K.), she is someone who always seems to have some creative pot on the boil. 

And her reaction to awful circumstance, it seems, is to write a book about it 鈥� for example her painful, unanticipated struggle with gallstones, and consequent surgery to remove her gall bladder ultimately produced The Gallstone Friendly Diet, part memoir of her journey, part collection of recipes. 

Her desire to use her experiences to help guide others through similar terrain particularly holds true for her latest non-fiction book, What Becomes of the Broken-hearted (Hammersmith Health Books, London, hammersmithbooks.co.uk). 

In it, she recounts a series of events of 2022-23 that tested her in every way 鈥� including being diagnosed with a little-known form of heart failure. 

In the space of less than a year, Sullivan lost a very close friend to a drowning accident and her own mother to suicide. 

As she now admits, she was devastated by these events on many levels 鈥� but, in an experience common to many, she was struggling to cope day-to-day, without fully processing the impact these tragedies had on her life and well-being. 

In April of 2023 she was back in England, organizing her mother鈥檚 funeral and, virtually without a pause, her daughter Kerri鈥檚 long-planned wedding at the end of May. She was functioning, but, as she now admits, in a state of denial. 

But after she鈥檇 returned to White Rock, something caught up to her 鈥� and her body 鈥� in October 2023. 

When she was attending her regular suicide bereavement support group, the same day that she鈥檇 participated, online, in the formal inquest into her mother鈥檚 death, she starting experiencing a pounding heartbeat. 

She still felt odd when she returned home, but by the end of the evening, when her symptoms had abated, she and her husband Lee had concluded that it was nothing more than a panic attack. 

The next day 鈥� Friday the 13th, as it happened 鈥� she found herself suffering from an intense and alarming feeling of compression in her chest. 

After testing at Peace Arch Hospital she was diagnosed with takotsubo cardiomyopathy 鈥� also known as 鈥渂roken heart syndrome.鈥� 

As she writes in her book: 鈥淚鈥檓 not being dramatic about this. I literally have a broken heart.鈥� 

Once again Sullivan had been plunged into learning about a new health challenge. But one of the things she learned was that many doctors know little about the syndrome, or how to talk to patients about it, beyond sending them home with the not-too-reassuring advice to 鈥渁void stress.鈥� 

Takotsubo cardiomyopathy (or TTS) is an enlargement of the heart鈥檚 left ventricle, which results in a significant weakening of its operation. 

A Japanese doctor gave it its name in the early 1990s when he observed that the appearance of a heart with TTS resembled the traditional pot, or takotsubo, long used as an octopus trap by fishermen. 

Something else she learned by visiting online groups for survivors of TTS was that the term 鈥渂roken heart syndrome鈥� is frowned on. Many feel it tends to trivialize, or at least minimize, she explained, a condition that, while more survivable than a heart attack, can leave lasting damage and a possibility of recurring incidents. 

It鈥檚 also something of a misnomer, she learned, because while TTS can seem to be a response to extreme emotional stress in some patients, others can develop the condition without any apparent stress triggers. 

鈥淎t the moment, there鈥檚 absolutely no way to predict who will get it 鈥� as people have said, this is a syndrome with no prediction, no prescription and no prognosis.鈥� 

As always, when Sullivan is confronted by not getting straight answers to questions about health, she tends to do her own digging 鈥� with the thought that others like her could benefit from her experiences and research. Planning for what became the book began then and there. 

鈥淲hen I first started looking into it, there didn鈥檛 seem to be too much known about it, but there鈥檚 more and more new research coming out all the time,鈥� she said. 

Typical of Sullivan鈥檚 thorough approach, What Becomes of the Broken-hearted? is full of useful and up-to-date information, including input and a question and answer with some of the leading medical experts in the field, but also first-hand accounts of the experiences of other patients around the world and their personal journeys back to comparative health. 

鈥淚 think if I鈥檇 listened to my body, I would have done some things differently,鈥� Sullivan said. 

鈥淚 do advocate for listening 鈥� even if I don鈥檛 do it,鈥� she laughed. 

It also has heart-healthy recipes (what would a Sullivan book be without recipes? This writer first encountered her almost 20 years when she published the mouth-watering The Best of British Cookery Book). 

But it鈥檚 also much, much more. 

By turns dramatic, funny, sad and moving, What Becomes of the Broken Hearted? is inextricably rooted in the past, as much as it is also about moving into a healthier future. 

Some of the most touching passages are when Sullivan recalls the childhood struggles of herself and her sister Karen with the unravelling of their parents marriage, of their mother鈥檚 alcoholism and mental illness, which led to lengthy stays in institutions and the shock treatments common in less-enlightened times). 

Touching too, are recollections of Sullivan bonding with her late father during his all-too-infrequent visits. 

But, as Sullivan reveals, the sad fact is that their mother was not only physically absent during their growing years but also emotionally unavailable. 

While, in public, she could be the life and soul of the party and quickly strike up friendships, in private she could be cold, bitter and angry towards her closest relatives. 

She had attempted suicide before, and the threat of it, both spoken and unspoken, was always hanging over their heads 鈥� emotional blackmail whenever she wanted to lash back at her family for perceived neglect. 

But life is always contradictory, and Sullivan, in coming to terms with her feelings about her mother in the book, acknowledges that there are happy memories too. 

鈥淎lthough we had a difficult relationship in life, we could always resolve it,鈥� she said. 

鈥淲e鈥檇 get through the argument and I鈥檇 call her a silly old cow and we鈥檇 end up laughing.鈥� 

But her suicide, at age 86 ended all that, Sullivan noted. 

鈥淚 had this thing about avoiding guilt, but her choosing to do it that way absolutely ensured I would be guilty for the rest of my life,鈥� she said. 

鈥淚 do have some guilt about writing about her, but at the same time I know she and my dad would have loved knowing that I鈥檇 written about them in a book. 

鈥淪o it鈥檚 a little bit of therapy 鈥� and I鈥檓 also reaching out to people. There are things I regret. I take accountability for some things. But I want people to know that you can survive the suicide of a loved one.鈥� 

There is also a brief chapter in the book talking about suicide, including statistics and suggestions for resources, although Sullivan is at work on a new book about the subject, inspired by her mother, which will include much more detailed information. 

The book also discusses an eerie coincidence 鈥� considering the name given to her heart syndrome, Sullivan said. 

Right after her mother鈥檚 death she was looking for some kind of sign from her 鈥� some signal of communication. 

None was evident, until her incident, in which she learned that hearts with TTS come to resemble octopus traps. 

Her mind went back to when her mother had come to Canada for a brief visit in 2022. 

Anticipating some of their usual friction, Sullivan had suggested a 鈥渟afe word鈥� that either could use if they were feeling angry and upset, a reminder not to engage in unnecessary argument. 

鈥淗ow about the word octopus?鈥� her mother had asked.