An Event

* Starting this on Christmas day, but might not get published until the 26th.*

Today marks 6 months since my heart attack, or "cardiac event" as my rehab physiologists say. The memory is still pretty fresh in my mind but I want to write it down so that I always remember. The first thing everyone said to me was, "What the fuck happened?!" So here it is. 

It was Friday, June 25th. I woke up at around 8:00am to Rebeca getting out of bed and heading to the kitchen for coffee. Our bed was two futon mattresses on the floor. I felt a tightness in my chest and started trying to breathe through it while wondering why I was so "anxious". I started to feel a little bit of pain in between my shoulder blades but it felt like if I could just crack my neck it would go away. Same with my chest. If I could just "burp" the feeling would subside. 

I got to my knees and used the twin bed as a support, trying to concentrate on the sounds of the birds outside in the back. I tried to focus on 3 things to smell, 3 things to hear and 3 things to see. Every now and then the tightness in my chest would go away for a little bit and I would feel better. 

I suddenly felt a little nauseous and went to the bathroom. As I sat there I googled "symptoms of a stroke" and "symptoms of a heart attack".  My heart wasn't racing and I wasn't in any pain. I started sweating profusely. Like my shirt was soaked through in just seconds. I stepped into the shower and rinsed off. 

When I got out, I threw up out of nowhere. I felt like I should get ready, thinking that I might have to tell Rebeca to take me to the hospital. I put in my contacts and got dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. I took my insulin and my other weekly shot. I put my wet hair in a bun and put on my fitbit. My heartrate was high, but normal for me. 

I went out to the living room and sat in one of the chairs. I told Rebeca that I thought that I was having an anxiety attack.  At this point I had been trying to breathe through feeling "uncomfortable" for almost 2 hours. That's mainly what it was...uncomfortable. Nothing really hurt and I could breathe normally. I just felt, "not right". Kind of nauseous. Kind of dizzy. Tight in my skin. 

I finally told Rebeca that we should go to the ER. She said, "You can't breathe through it?" And at that moment my heart went wild. My Fitbit was jumping around from 50 to 117 to 78 to 100. As I got up to go, my mom said, "You feel dizzy?" I was having a hard time getting words out so I just said, "yeah". 

Isa was out on a run and Maya was still asleep downstairs. 

We got into my brother's Leaf and Rebeca drove me down to the hospital in my hometown. I felt like she was going so slow and was annoyed that I wasn't the one in the driver's seat. We got to the hospital in minutes and I was surprised to see it empty. Usually there are people waiting outside for their turn. 

We went into the ER waiting room and no one was at the desk. I rang the doorbell and two nurses came out. I told them that I thought that I was having an anxiety attack but that my chest tightness wasn't going away. They took me into a room and checked my pulse. They seemed like it wasn't what they liked to see and then hooked me up to an EKG machine. They also gave me a covid test and checked my other vitals. 

When they got the EKG reading they headed out to find a doctor. As they were doing that another nurse had me take off my shirt and bra to get ready for an X-ray. The doctor came in and said, "So, it looks like you're having a heart attack." She was extremely calm and matter-a-fact. I wasn't surprised especially after overhearing "vfib". All of my CPR/First Aid training came to my mind. I said, "Okay". I didn't feel scared but rather glad that I knew what was going on with me. That I wasn't imagining things or overreacting. 

She said that they weren't going to take the time to do the Xray and that they were going to transport me to a hospital in town right away. They gave me a couple of nitroglycerin pills to put under my tongue and a baby aspirin to chew. They started an IV in my left arm and had me sign a lot of paperwork. The ambulance arrived shortly after and Rebeca asked if she could go with me. They told her no. We kissed goodbye and she said that she was going to go home first to tell my mom and get me some things. She was crying but I was strangely calm. Just waiting to see what would happen next. 

As they transported me to the ambulance gurney, I noticed how narrow it was. There was still tightness in my chest but less. The main place that was uncomfortable was in between my shoulders. Laying on my back was not fun. 

My first ambulance ride was not as exciting as I thought it would be. It was bumpy and loud and felt like all the equipment would come crashing down on me at any moment. The EMTs had hooked me up to an AED machine just in case. Later Rebeca told me that the ambulance had passed her while she was on the way to town. 

We arrived at the ER and they wheeled me to the door. The paramedics didn't have the correct door code because they said that they rarely went to that hospital. Luckily a guard was nearby and he let us in. 

This ER was packed! There were patients in hospital beds in the hallways and tons of people milling about. They rolled me to a room where a team of about 8 people were waiting for me. As soon as I was transferred to the new bed, there were hands all over me. One person was hooking my IV up to something, one was taking off the rest of my clothes, another person was having me sign release forms. There was so much activity! And through all of this I felt very calm. I knew that I wouldn't have to make any decisions anymore and that was comforting. 

I remember one doctor saying that I was going to be taken to surgery and that stents were going to be put into my artery. I had to sign for that too. 

As they started wheeling me out, Rebeca arrived. She was told what was happening and then I was rolled away. 

I was taken into a white room that was very cold. They let me know that the doctor would put my stent in through either the artery in my arm or one in my groin. Because of that I was quickly shaved half way. The nurse instructed me to hold on to a metal handle with my right hand. They sedated me through my IV but I was awake during the entire process. At one point I moved a little because my back was still aching. Someone noticed and gave me more sedation. Time seemed to pass quickly. I would get a little tired and would wake up to someone tapping on my forehead telling me to stay awake. I just wanted to sleep! 

It didn't feel like I was in that room for very long but the procedure took almost 2 hours. When the doctor was done one of the nurses was calling upstairs looking for a room. They wheeled me up to the cardiac floor and I was transferred to another bed. There was a huge plastic cuff on my right wrist and I was told not to use it for anything. 

Rebeca showed up soon after with her own wild story about her adventures while I was in surgery. 

Nurses and cardiologists came in to check my vitals and to remind me that I had almost died. Some doctors were more gentle than others. One told me that I might need to be on the transplant list within a year, while another said that I just had a lot of work ahead of me. 

Rebeca wasn't allowed to stay with me and would have to leave every afternoon at 4pm. That was really hard, especially those first two nights. 

I was hooked up to two IVs, one in my left arm and one in my right hand. It made it difficult to fully sleep as I was always scared of pulling something loose. I was also hooked up to an EKG machine, on oxygen and taking numerous medications. The lab techs would come in every few hours to draw blood and I soon ran out of places for them to try. Every time I got up to go to the bathroom, my heartrate would get super high, usually in the 130s. And of course, I started my period. Because of the many blood thinners I was on, I bled more than usual. Using the bathroom looked like a murder scene because they were also collecting my urine every time I went. I was on diuretics so needed to use the bathroom frequently. It was not a good time. 

Cardiologists came and went and it seemed like it was always someone new, reiterating how lucky I was to be alive. 

The heart attack I had is commonly known as a 'widow maker". The main artery to my heart was 100% blocked. If I hadn't gone to the ER when I did, I don't know what would have happened. I didn't let myself think about it too much, but sometimes I would wonder what would have happened if we had been at the beach or somewhere else instead of at home. It was scary to imagine. 

My vitals were taken every 2 hours around the clock and my blood was drawn every 4-6. Eventually I would barely wake up when the lab tech would come in and just hand them one of my arms. Sometimes they would have to call in a more "expert" tech to attempt to find a vein that wasn't overused. One nurse "rolled" one of my veins and I could tell that she felt horrible. Another one blew out one of my veins. I tried not to react to the pain because I could tell they felt so badly about having to stick me so many times. I had bruises all over the tops of my hands and my left wrist. My right wrist still had the plastic cuff on it and the nurse would loosen it a little bit every day to make sure I wouldn't bleed out of that artery. 

One of my night nurses remarked that "A hospital is not a place to rest. It's a place to work on getting better." That was definitely true. The longest stretch I slept was maybe 4 hours. I was tired but also energized by everything happening around me. 

The first two days were the most stressful. The doctors thought that they saw a blood clot in my heart and I needed to get an MRI. They also did an echocardiogram. They pumped me up with all kinds of drugs but completely took me off of my diabetes meds. I was placed on a cardiac diet and had a specific menu to order from for my meals. Rebeca ordered for me and we went through almost all of the options. I was never hungry but she made sure I ate. The sugar free jello was my go to. 

After the echocardiogram, the doctors came in to tell me that my heart was only functioning at about 29%. One doctor told me that he thought that parts of my heart were so damaged that they were essentially dead. Another doctor told me that those parts could just be "hibernating" and that they might regain functionality. So many conflicting messages. Hopeful then devastating. Definitely an emotional roller coaster. 

I was finally able to get an MRI on that Monday night the 28th. It was probably one of the most relaxing experiences of my life. The tech would come over the speaker, tell me to take a deep breath, hold it and then release after 20 seconds or so. It was meditative. The whole process took about an hour but it felt so much shorter. The next day I was told that they hadn't found a clot so I was finally able to go home. 

Going downstairs and outside for the first time in 4 days was overwhelming. The light was too bright, the sounds too loud. It seemed like people were too close to me and moving too quickly. Driving home was nerve wracking and I could feel my heart racing. I was dizzy and disoriented. 

When I got home my mom, aunt and Maya were waiting outside. I got emotional hugging Maya and went to my room to take a nap. I wasn't totally comfortable being out of the hospital where I knew that I was being taken care of. Now I was in charge of the 9 medications I had been sent home with. I was in charge of watching my diet and taking my blood pressure. I had to pay attention to my body once again and I was nervous about all of it. 

For the first couple of weeks I got tired very easily. I would wake up, take my meds, eat a small breakfast and then go back to bed. If people came to visit I would need a nap afterward. It was a strange feeling...not trusting my heart and feeling exhausted all the time. 

It's been 6 months and so much has changed. My heart attack seems to have reset my body. My blood sugars are excellent, my cholesterol numbers have been cut in half and now my blood pressure runs on the low side (not a great thing but definitely different from before). It's almost like I had to have the heart attack to get everything else right.