December 27, 2004 Yikes, woke up at six a.m. to a heart attack. I am not a victim of a heart attack. My genealogy, health habits and ignorance are the cause.
The Heart Attack:
6:00 a.m. Monday morning, December 27, 2004
I rolled over in bed to relieve the strong dull pain and pressure in my chest, knowing in my dazed confusion that something was hurting but unaware of the magnitude, without symptom recognition in my haze of being immediately awoken. I remember thinking that this was a more powerful pain and pressure than I had experienced over the last five years but my mind was hazy, as again, I was still half asleep.
So, many times I was unwilling to share with others how I was feeling and so many times I was ignored when feeling the symptoms. For years, aspirin and rest would solve the problem so I thought it was nothing I needed to take immediate action upon. I recall times, in bed, I would turn over on my side and feel a sharp pain in my chest, but I thought it was normal. In hindsight, I now feel this was the main artery possibly closing for a moment, due to the change in the position of my heart and arteries. I became so used to the pain in my chest that instead of stopping work in my home office at a particular time such as eight, nine or ten p.m., I would work until the pains began, then with a split second of fear, I would take an aspirin and immediately lie down until the pain would subside. I took for granted that my lifestyle was governed by some chest pain but again, I did not really think this was life threatening, even with the twenty eight years of experience in taking care of my mother's and father's heart problems encompassing numerous open heart surgeries and angioplasty operations. I had grown to convince myself that I was a tough guy and nothing would send me to the hospital unless I chose the day, date and time... and had an appointment.
With the chest pain and pressure I sat up in bed and glanced at the clock which determined that is was 6:00 a.m. on the morning of Monday, December 27th, 2004. I stood up and went into the bathroom to grab an aspirin and then realized that the bottle was mixed up with about fifteen bottles of vitamins and I didn't feel well enough to sort them out so I continued to the toilet to further wake up. Within two minutes the pain grew worst as I sat on the toilet thinking to myself that I am going to die here, and I stood up again, and with a parched throat went to the kitchen for water while holding my chest. Hearing my cat, "Hopper" meow, I knew she wanted outside so I opened the back patio door for her and proceeded to the bedroom where my parents reside (they moved in with me over a year ago for their care.) With a thrust, the door opened and I said to them, "I don't feel well" as I didn't want to upset them at this time. With that my Father said, we should drive you to the hospital and I immediately said, "call 911" because another minute had passed and the pain and pressure continued to grow as I closed my eyes which is how they remained for 95% of this ordeal. Listening to him speak to the 911 operator I exclaimed, "heart attack" as I knew they would want to know what was wrong. I pushed myself further up onto the bed with my eyes closed, my hand on my chest and tremendous pain and pressure. The symptoms continued to explode upon me as I started to sweat and numbness coursed my right arm and jaw. I lie writhing in pain and time stopped. In what felt like two seconds I opened my eyes to see an ambulance with lights flailing pull up in the driveway and heard the driver and assistants yell, hello as they opened the previously unlocked front door to which Dad greeted them and guided them into the bedroom.
I lie there as four men begin swarming around me and my parents are told to leave the room so they can 'work on me.' "Move to the end of the bed, let's remove your T-shirt, open your mouth, put your tongue on the roof of your mouth," swish, in goes the first of three nitroglycerin tablets under my tongue. They begin to attach the cardiac machine wires to my chest and rib cage and begin reading the data returned I surmise. "Open your mouth, chew these aspirins," "As I thought" is the last thing I hear as I'm told to sit in a wheelchair they had placed in the bedroom and I am wheeled to the front door and raised as it is turned into an instant gurney and I am slid into the back of the ambulance and the door is closed.
It was now a ten minute journey to the West Hills Hospital but it felt like it took one hour and one minute, all at the same time. I felt from the moment that 911 was dialed that I was slipping in and out of consciousness but am not sure if that is the case, although as mentioned, my eyes were closed 95% of the time in pain. The pain in my chest would be described as a prolonged, constant, intense pain, as if a two hundred fifty pound person was sitting on my chest. The right arm was numb as well as my jaw as I was covered in sweat and the breathing became more and more difficult as if I had to 'suck and suck, through a narrow straw' to get oxygen and then could only catch a 'quarter of a breath.' A needle is shoved into the vein of my left arm and taped down solidly as I'm attached to an I. V. bottle.
The ambulance turns and immediately stops as the rear doors are swept open and the gurney I am lying on is whisked out of the ambulance and into the emergency room. I can feel four or five nurses and assistants swarming around the table as questions are asked and another needle inserted into the vein on the top of my right hand, hooked up to another I. V. bottle. "Are you allergic to any of the following medicines, do you have any of the following problems, we are giving you morphine so you may feel a little strange, we have to raise the bed to a sitting position so we can take an X-ray, the cardiologist is on the way, you are very lucky because the cardiologist on duty is very good at angioplasty, you are going to be okay, you did the right thing, we will take good care of you, hang in there, his heart is at twenty four beats per minute." The cardiologist arrives saying hello which is the last thing I remember in the emergency room.
I am lying down on the gurney as it is being rolled through hallways so fast I can feel the wind racing across my face and through my hair. What must have been minutes later I open my eyes and there is a monitor on my left with a picture of my heart and some fluids coursing the vessels, showing the blood flow. I am in a very large room with one doctor and what 'feels like' maybe three or four assistants working the various unknown machinery. In front of me is a heavy clear plastic divider between myself and a male doctor standing who is obviously the cardiologist in the process of an angiogram. Another few minutes and a angioplasty is performed two times to 'balloon' the plaque flat to the walls of my arteries. Suddenly there is instant relief. The pain and pressure is removed from my chest. I state "that feels better' and am told, "of course, but we are not done yet." Within what seemed like several minutes I am told 'don't move' as I moved my right leg accidentally forgetting where I was, since I was obviously under the influence of medication at this time. I proceed to hold my right leg steady as a 'stint' is placed into an artery of my heart. "Not too shabby" I overhear the cardiologist state to others assisting him in the operating room, as it appears the procedure is drawing to a close.
I am rolled into the intensive care unit without really being aware of minute to minute activities but only sparse glimpses of scattered moments in time. With one needle taped to my left arm, one needle taped to the top of my right hand and a bottle attached I am told by a nurse about the television set hanging from the ceiling in front of me as she continues to make me aware of the nurse "call button" as well as some pills and water that I must swallow. Realizing that my parents may have come to the hospital, I asked the nurse to see if they are here so before we get settled, I can let them know that there is no need for them here and they can be on their way back home. A few minutes later she arrives with both mom and dad in tow and together we share how the three of us, all have had this procedure done to us and I am very lucky to be alive. Without adieu I mention that they must go home and they oblige me.
Likely an hour later as I am lying in the hospital bed thinking that I couldn't possibly be more uncomfortable a nurse arrives to draw blood and I'm 'stuck' in my left arm the first of many times to come. The cardiologist enters the room and I thank him so very much for his expertise as he states to me that the main artery to my heart, as well as two branching arteries were clogged and I was in the process of having a massive heart attack. "You're a very lucky man" he states since we didn't have complete cardiac arrest and the damage is minimal.
And I am a very lucky man.
After four days of entering the hospital and being poked and probed, I am ready to be released for home and am so thankful to the approximate fourteen various hospital and ambulance staff who played a major role in saving my life so in an effort to possibly locate them all, a simple gift and heartfelt note of thanks will be sent, but how does one really go about thanking someone for saving their life I'm reminded as I consider how very lucky I am.
epilogue: I just got health insurance, after going un-insured for three or four years, three months prior to having the heart attack. The first of many 'statements' arrived in the mail today, for $90,961.66. Of course the insurance company will adjust the charges down and then I will be responsible for about $4,000 deductible only, I would have been pretty damaged financially if it were not for the good spirits guiding me into the health insurance at that time. Just a note of thanks to those good spirits. Allen Williams