This afternoon, I had my annual cardiology appointment. When Dr. Gill--a really handsome fellow--walked in the door, I quipped, "We've got to stop meeting like this." He laughed, then said, "It's better than the first time we met!" Oh, how right he is!
I retired from teaching at the end of May in 2009. My daughter and grandchildren lived with me. I considered my retirement a chance to help take care of the grandkids without the constrictions of my job. Hallelujah!
That summer, the grandchildren were at their dad's in Muncie, IN, for some visitation. August 1st was a Saturday. I was beginning to experience some symptoms of old age degeneration, so it was easy to dismiss my morning aches and pains as part of waking my body up and get it going. My neck was stiff. My right arm felt heavy...then my left arm felt heavy. Things just felt weird. Hard to explain. I took a couple of aspirin thinking they would be my pain meds of the day. But when nothing improved, I alerted my daughter, even though I didn't feel any chest pain.
Along about 10:30 AM, as I recall, dear Megan was hardly even out of the shower when I announced, "I don't want to alarm you, but I think something is going on. I need to go to the hospital." I was still in my bathrobe. We both hurriedly got dressed and headed out for Hendricks County Hospital, which is a good 30 minutes away, but as we approached the Plainfield Fire Department station on Main Street on our way, I said "Pull in here. We'll ask what to do."
Behind the fire station was a picnic table with two or three paramedics enjoying...maybe lunch? One of them approached the car. I asked, "What do we do if someone is having a heart attack?" He said, "Which one of you is having the heart attack?" I thought it was a strange question. Well, obviously not the one driving!! "Hang on while we get another ambulance here."
In short order, I was put in an ambulance. My daughter was instructed to follow us. At the time, I was totally not in trouble. They asked what hospital I wanted to go to, telling me that IU West in Avon, IN, was closer than the one in Danville, so that's where we headed. I could clearly see my daughter in her car right behind the ambulance. No lights or sirens. I wasn't critical. The EMT had given me two baby aspirin and installed EKG electrodes on my chest. All was well.
And then all hell broke loose. My heart started to flutter. It didn't hurt, but I could feel it. The EMT could see it on the EKG. Then it stopped for a second or two. Then it started again. He asked me, again, if I could feel it. Yes, I could. Here we were, on a busy highway, stopped in traffic when the EMT alerted the driver that we needed to go (whatever code they use) for lights and sirens. His explanation to me was, "I just don't like to be stuck in traffic." We were probably less than a half-mile away from the hospital by then.
My poor daughter at first didn't comprehend that the sirens she was hearing were for me. She was looking around to pull over for an approaching emergency vehicle, when the emergency vehicle was right in front of her, leading the way!
In short order, I was delivered to the ER. Blood tests were taken. Much is a blur. Megan was there by my side. And then the cardiologist on call came in to tell me that I'd had a heart attack, based on Troponin levels in my blood...blah, blah...and that, since it was a weekend, they didn't have the staff to do an angiogram, so they sent me by ambulance to Methodist Hospital in Indy. Guess what? By the time I got to Methodist, my heart had settled down. All was normal. And since nothing was whacko at that time, they decided they could wait until Monday to the honors. Ugh!
I got a heart stent out of the deal and felt much better when it was done. By Tuesday, I was ready to go home...and they were okay with letting me go. This is how my cardiologist became my cardiologist. For a couple of years, I saw him every six months, but my ticker has been so stable over the years that I only have to see him every 12 months now. Still--10 years after the fact--he remembers the day I was brought in. Remembers me. Remembers my daughter. Remembers the fact that my heart attack actually happened in the ambulance on my way to the hospital, but that I had felt it coming on. I really didn't experience any pain. I didn't know I was having a heart attack--only that something wasn't right.
On a side note, I got home from the hospital fairly early in the day. Very LATE in the day, my daughter got a call that her son--my grandson--had a bike accident and was being transported from Muncie, IN, to Riley Hospital for Children in Indy because of a suspected brain bleed. She came to my room to tell me and asked if I wanted to stay home. No. HELL no. She drove. We found ways to get into the hospital, thanks to some maintenance guys. It all went as well as could be expected. Ryan had a major concussion but seemed to bounce back. He started Kindergarten under physical restrictions. I'd had a moderate heart attack but seemed to bounce back. I had some restrictions, too.
Somehow, my grandson and I still keep on keepin' on!
I'm SO glad these are just memories and not current events. At my appointment today, Dr. Gill told me that he remembers the day I was brought in and remembers my daughter. With all of his other patients, I'm not sure why that is. Maybe because my daughter is beautiful!
It's nice to know that my ticker is still working fine. The rest of me? Not so much!
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