My Costochondritis Story

When it all began

Winter 2024 started innocently enough. A mild flu came and went, and I assumed life would snap back to normal. As soon as I thought I was recovered, I "celebrated" with a strenuous hike and paid for it within hours - breathless, shaky, and convinced something was seriously wrong. The pain hadn’t shown up yet, but the sensation of not getting a full breath kept me wide awake for two nights.

Panic took over. I went to the ER where they checked my heart from every angle. Every test was spotless. “Likely stress,” they said, and I left with sleeping pills and a mind that felt anything but calm.

The first signs of pain

The very next day a dull ache settled behind my sternum. A quick run for a train turned that ache into a sharp, burning pain. Stuck on a four-hour ride to visit my parents, all I could do was succumb to the panic silently and pray the train would move faster.

Once arrived, we headed straight for the ER yet again: more cardiac tests, more imaging, more bloodwork. This time the working theory was mild pericarditis, so they handed me a two-week prescription for ibuprofen. The diagnosis never quite fit, the pain was centered on my sternum and pressing it made it worse, but it was the only explanation I had at the time.

Ibuprofen brought the pain from an 8/10 to a 4/10, then the progress plateaued. At this point, still no one had even mentioned the word “costochondritis” yet.

Finding a name

When the progress stalled, I turned to research mode. Late-night reading and symptom tracking led me to costochondritis, and suddenly the puzzle pieces lined up. I began experimenting with gentle rehab, posture tweaks, breathing work, and rest strategies shared by others living with it. The pain began to ease, not dramatically, but in slow, encouraging increments.

A GP later confirmed the diagnosis and sent me to a rheumatologist. The MRI was clear, the advice was to keep using ibuprofen as needed and keep going to physio. “It’ll fade soon,” they promised. It didn’t.

A long year of trial and error

Over the next year I became a meticulous detective. I tracked every flare, noted every activity, logged posture tweaks, supplements, physio homework, and breathing exercises. Some experiments set me back, some offered short-term relief, and a handful became staples woven into everyday life.

Eventually the flare-ups lost their intensity. I learned how to pace myself, how to spot triggers early, and how to rebuild strength without stoking the inflammation. These days the discomfort only arises when I sit too long or push too hard - and even then, it passes quickly.

What I learned along the way

• Chest pain is frightening even when the tests are clear. Feeling heard and believed changes everything.
• Tracking sleep, stress, training volume, posture, and flares reveals the patterns you can actually do something about.
• Gentle movement beats total rest. Small, consistent rebuilds win over heroic efforts every time.
• Anxiety needs care too. Breath work and mindset shifts were as important as stretching or strengthening.
• Progress is nonlinear. A flare doesn’t erase the ground you’ve already covered.