On April 10th, I had a "Widowmaker", an NSTEMI with multiple blockages, including a 95% blockage in my LAD. My grave condition required immediate surgery. The American Heart Association reports that only 12% of people who suffer a widowmaker heart attack outside of the hospital survive. I am part of that 12%. My daughter, my husband, my parents, my sister and her family, all get to enjoy life with me a lot longer.
Leading up to my event, I hadn't been feeling well for a couple of weeks...panic attacks, shortness of breath, trouble sleeping, chest pain. I chalked it up to anxiety and perimenopause and maybe even asthma. The night it all came to a head was pretty scary, but I pretended away the shortness of breath, chest tightness, pain in my neck and jaw, the inexplicable ache in my teeth and sinuses. I chalked it all up to a panic attack or an asthma attack, took my inhaler, practiced slow breathing, and forced myself to find a comfortable position to fall asleep...all while assuring my husband I would be okay and that we did not need to go to the ER. Inside, though, I knew something was terribly wrong and yet did nothing about it. I promised Nick that I would call the doctor in the morning. The next morning, I felt a lot better and thought about just skipping out on that idea. Thank G-d he was insistent I go anyway...as was the urgent care doctor who wouldn't accept the symptoms, despite a normal EKG result. He sent me on to the emergency room.
With my age, otherwise good health and back-to-back "normal" EKGs that morning, everyone was pretty shocked when my blood enzyme levels (Troponin) came back slightly elevated. This raised the eyebrows of all my caregivers in the Doylestown Hospital Emergency Room. Cardiology was called in and I was referred to as a "mystery" case because I didn't present as a typical heart attack patient. After the ultrasound and catheterization, they discovered 4 blockages that needed to be fixed immediately. The type of surgery they would choose for the repair was not a slam dunk decision and a team was assembled to decide on bypass vs angioplasty. I was moved to the ICU overnight and had to process the idea that at 48 years old, I just had a heart attack. And that my life, in the blink of an eye, was forever changed. Thank G-d the path forward was angioplasty and my recovery would be less complicated than with bypass. With the exception of a terribly painful complication of a collapsed artery following the stenting procedure, all went according to plan. Over time, my arm healed, cardiac rehab began, my strength and energy slowly returned, my spirits improved, and now I feel really good most days. It isn't lost on me how lucky I am...how I should have died. But, I lived. And now each milestone means something extra special.
So...I am walking for the American Heart Association as a SURVIVOR who understands first-hand how essential this organization's mission is to people like me. My chances of living a completely normal life increase every single day that passes since April 9th. I'm not out of the woods quite yet and the good work of the AHA will help extend my life as long as possible!
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