When I first learned I needed an ICD, I remember feeling like the ground had shifted beneath me. It wasn’t just a device — it was a new reality I hadn’t prepared for. And while the surgery, appointments, and recovery were all part of the physical process, it was the emotional side that caught me off guard.

If someone you love has recently been told they need an ICD — or is already living with one — you might be wondering how best to support them. Let me say this first: your presence matters more than you know. Supporting a loved one with an ICD doesn’t require perfection. But it does require presence, patience, and a willingness to understand what they’re going through — even if they’re not always ready to talk about it.

This guide blends what I’ve learned through living with an ICD and connecting with others who have them — and it’s written with the hope that it helps both of you feel a little more grounded in this new normal.

Understand What an ICD Really Is

Before my ICD was implanted, I barely understood what it did. All I knew was that my heart had been misfiring — and this small device was going to save my life if it happened again. But beneath that clinical explanation was a world of emotions and unknowns.

An ICD, or Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator, monitors the heart’s rhythm and delivers a pulse or shock when it detects a life-threatening arrhythmia. It’s implanted under the skin — usually on the left side of the chest. It doesn’t fix the heart, but it watches over it. And while that’s incredibly reassuring on paper, it can also be emotionally heavy.

If you want to support your loved one, start by understanding what the device is and what it means to live with it. I recommend the American Heart Association’s ICD overview, as well as our own post on understanding the ICD procedure and post-implantation care.

The more you understand the medical side, the more compassion you’ll bring to the emotional one.

Supporting a Loved One with an ICD Means Letting Them Talk Freely

After my surgery, people often asked how I was feeling physically — but rarely emotionally. The truth is, I didn’t always have the words. I wasn’t just recovering from an operation. I was learning how to feel safe in my own body again.

When someone you love is living with an ICD, don’t underestimate the emotional toll. There’s fear — of shocks, of malfunctions, of losing control. And there’s grief — for the version of life that used to feel simpler.

You don’t have to fix any of that. But you do have to listen.

Start with simple, open-ended check-ins. “How are you feeling about everything today?” or “Do you ever think about the ICD firing?” These kinds of questions allow space for vulnerability. And if they don’t feel like talking, just being there matters.

For deeper insight into the emotional experience, I’ve written about managing ICD-related anxiety. It might help you understand what’s going on beneath the surface.

Be Present for Medical Appointments

I still remember my first post-op checkup. My cardiologist was explaining device settings and battery life while I sat there, half-listening, trying not to panic. It’s a lot to take in — especially when emotions are still raw.

If you’re able, offer to go with your loved one to their appointments. You don’t have to ask questions or take over. Just being there — to listen, help remember instructions, or even drive — can make a big difference.

It also gives you a chance to better understand how the device is working and what follow-up looks like. Device checks, battery updates, lead testing — it’s not always intuitive.

If they’re preparing for a follow-up, you can both review this guide on questions to ask your doctor.

Offer Help That Feels Natural, Not Overbearing

In those first few weeks after surgery, there were things I couldn’t do — and I hated asking for help. Lifting groceries, reaching overhead, even driving — all off-limits for a while. But what helped the most were friends and family who offered support without making me feel helpless.

Instead of “You shouldn’t be doing that,” I heard, “Hey, I’m grabbing some stuff at the store — want me to pick up anything?” That tone made all the difference.

Supporting a loved one with an ICD means helping in ways that protect their dignity. Think rides to appointments, meals, light chores — but offered casually and with care.

If they’re still in the thick of recovery, this guide to post-surgery pain and healing might be helpful for both of you.

Respect Emotional Health as Much as Physical

I wish more people had told me it was okay to feel shaken up. For weeks after surgery, I flinched at every chest sensation, worried about being alone, and couldn’t fall asleep without obsessing over my heart rate.

Many ICD patients live with that kind of invisible anxiety — especially early on. It’s hard to explain. And often, we hide it to avoid seeming fragile.

Let your loved one know that fear is normal — and that talking to a therapist, counselor, or support group is a strength, not a weakness. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) helped me reframe my thoughts and regain control.

If you sense they’re struggling silently, offer to help them find resources. Sometimes, even just saying, “I know this is a lot — and I’d talk to someone too if it were me,” can break the ice.

Encourage Support Group Participation

When I joined my first ICD support group, it was like a lightbulb went on. I wasn’t the only one afraid of the device. I wasn’t the only one grieving a loss of “normal.” And suddenly, I wasn’t so alone.

Support groups — whether online or in-person — give ICD patients a chance to connect with people who truly get it. Encourage your loved one to join one. If they’re hesitant, offer to help find one or sit in the first time.

Just knowing there’s a community out there can bring comfort.

Be Adaptable When Supporting a Loved One with an ICD

Some days, I feel like I can climb mountains. Other days, I cancel plans last minute because my chest feels tight or my mind won’t settle.

Living with an ICD isn’t linear — and neither is recovery. Be the person who doesn’t take cancellations personally. Be the one who says, “It’s okay. We’ll try again another time.”

That kind of flexibility shows your loved one that their worth isn’t tied to how consistent or strong they feel.

Move With Them — Safely

Exercise was something I feared after my ICD. I worried movement would trigger a shock or damage the leads. But once my cardiologist cleared me, getting active again helped me regain confidence — and strength.

If your loved one is nervous about exercise, suggest low-impact options. Walk with them. Try yoga. Sign up for cardiac rehab together if it’s available. Moving together makes it easier — and more motivating.

We’ve put together a resource on safe exercises with an ICD to help get started.

Eat Together, Healthier

Changing your lifestyle alone is hard. Doing it together makes it feel less like a burden and more like a partnership.

Encourage your loved one to adopt heart-healthy eating habits by joining in. Shop for fresh foods. Cook meals together. Learn what’s best for heart health — and what’s not.

A diet rich in fruits, vegetables, lean proteins, and healthy fats can support overall recovery and reduce future cardiac risk. If you need a place to start, here’s our guide to eating well with an ICD.

Know What to Do in an Emergency

Thankfully, I haven’t experienced a shock yet. But I’ve spent countless hours wondering what it would feel like, how I’d respond, and whether someone around me would know what to do.

If your loved one has an ICD, it’s worth learning the basics:

• If they get shocked and seem okay, stay calm and monitor them.

• If they pass out, or don’t recover quickly — call 911.

• Make sure you know what their cardiologist recommends for emergencies.

• Learn CPR. It could save their life — or someone else’s.

Even just knowing that you’re prepared can help them feel more at ease.

Respect Their Independence

As much as I appreciated help, I also craved normalcy. I didn’t want to be treated like a fragile patient forever. I wanted to drive, go back to work, hold my daughter, hike a trail.

Supporting a loved one with an ICD doesn’t mean taking over. It means walking beside them — offering help when asked, backing off when not. Let them speak at appointments. Let them say no to advice. Let them reclaim their life in their own way.

FAQ: Supporting a Loved One with an ICD

Conclusion

Supporting a loved one with an ICD isn’t about knowing all the answers — it’s about being willing to learn, listen, and walk with them through the ups and downs. Whether they’re just starting recovery or adjusting to life long after surgery, your presence can make all the difference.

As someone who lives with an ICD myself, I can tell you this: the support of even one caring person can help turn fear into strength. It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it.

If you want to dive deeper into what life with an ICD really looks and feels like — from surgery and shocks to daily mindset and emotional resilience — I share everything in my book:

Understanding ICD Implants: A Comprehensive Guide

It’s written for patients, families, and supporters — because this journey isn’t meant to be walked alone.