Before March 10, most of what I knew about heart attacks came from television. Both my parents have had several heart attacks but none that had required a lengthy hospital stay. Most of the time Mom discovered she had an attack hours or days later. She would complain of flu-like symptoms or general fatigue. Not much chest pain or shortness of breath. I don't know what my Dad's symptoms were, we saw him after everything was over.
I had no doubt I was having a heart attack when it started but it was nothing like I would have thought. Numerous episodes of E.R. showed patients quickly being wheeled in, paramedics kneeling over them pounding on their chests. IV's were started, meds administered and Dr. Carter saved the day, all in under 45 minutes.
When I woke up that morning I had pain like I have never experienced. My wrists hurt, my back hurt and my legs ached. It felt as if someone had placed a board wrist to wrist and then parked a truck on the board. The pain was terrible, but worse, I could not breath. Pain made sense. Bad pain made sense. But why couldn't I breath? Even later, after they put the oxygen mask on me I still couldn't breath. What was happening?
The ride to the hospital went quick. One paramedic sat to my left bouncing all over the bench. He had forgotten to buckle himself in. I know because the fireman yelled at him. The fireman on my right was talking on the phone the entire ride. Talking, not giving me anything for my pain, talking. Maybe you should hang up and pay attention to me! No pulse, bp 52 over ? Ok, but can you at least move over, your coat keeps stabbing me in the eye. Hey! I still cannot breath and the pain hasn't stopped. Where are the drugs?!
Once we arrived at the hospital I was finally wheeled down the hallway. Good. There is always a hallway. I could hear Jim's voice but couldn't make out what he was saying. We stopped once, briefly. I didn't see anyone but the fireman but I could hear people talking. I knew they were talking about me. We started moving again and I was now in a very crowded room. More lights, more noise, more people. Still heavy pain in my chest, still unable to breath. Why didn't they make the pain stop?! I remember being lifted off the gurney onto another hard cold surface. The tall, very handsome dark man was talking to me, asking all kinds of questions. Really! You want me to answer you, I CAN"T BREATH! I just looked at him. You look very nice but could you please stop talking and help me. Next thing I knew someone asked me to lift up so they could take off my pajama bottoms. I think someone cut off my nightgown because I was being covered with a very narrow sheet. I was cold.
People were talking and moving all around me. I think the fireman was still in the room. Maybe it was someone else with a crew cut. I'm not sure. The tall man told me he was finally going to give me morphine for the pain. Thank you. Then he started rubbing my shin. I remember thinking that was a kind thing to do. My chest still hurt and I just wanted air. Oh, stinging in my thigh. Was this what I had been waiting for? More rubbing on my shin. It tickled. Still having that darn pain in my chest. Enough is enough. Dr. Carter when are you going to make it stop?! Let's change the channel. I think I'll rest now.
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