Hiya folks, how are we doing? Good to hear. I’ve been having problems accessing my account so not been on as soon as I’d hoped after my last post. Sorry about that, but all sorted, as you can see. Okay, come with me, if you will, and let me tell you a story…….
Approx 10:00 hrs
Wednesday the 13th of July started off just like any other day. The sky was cloudy with a little hint that the sun may appear. No work was to be got up for and no school to be attended. A damn good lie-in was to be had instead. Except that is until little bugs intervened. Little sicky you’re not feeling very well bugs. “Lie back down, you’ll be fine” I said to myself, and did so. My insides had other plans. Moments later after very careful navigation to the bathroom, the inevitable happened. Spare you the details, I was sick a few times over the next few hours. And that was that…….
“Sorry hun but I’m bloody knackered, I need to go and have a lie down”. So I wobbled my way back to bed and collapsed onto it to have a rest. I must have fallen asleep for a while.
Oh shit that’s sore. I held my breath as I put my fingertips to the centre of my chest and then breathed out again. It’ll be nothing, just lie back down, you’re still knackered. Half an hour went past and the nagging pain was still there, now beginning to annoy me slightly. Another wee while went by and it gradually got a bit more intense. I thought I’d shift about a bit and see if it was something trapped or whatever. Left side…no. Right side…no. Sit up a bit…no. It got to the point I even tried curling up on my hands and knees……no, it just wasn’t going away. So by this time it was about just after 7 o’clock. Let me add something here by the way, which is important…1. I go very quiet and within myself when I don’t feel well, and 2. Rona was also quite ill at the same time and was convalescing on the sofa in the living room, completely unaware of my troubles, but only because I wasn’t exactly creaming to the heavens about it. So no fault of hers.
The pain, for some time, had started to spread too. Firstly across my left breast area. This was accompanied by shooting pains up to my my shoulder and occasionally the side of my neck. Then I felt the shot down the inside of my arm…..oh you b******d that hurt! Then a throbbing pain down the outside of my arm which was dull rather than really painful. As if by some magic, or perhaps just pure coincidence (let’s not get too dramatic lol), Rona appeared at the bedroom door to check on me……just at the moment I lost sensation in my arm and it went numb. And started to turn a peculiar shade of purple-blue. A very short conversation ensued with the result being an ambulance was called for and at around half 9 I think, or thereabouts, I found myself in A&E at the Victoria Hospital in Kirkcaldy. Into the cubicle, sticky things on, wires attached and monitors displaying a rainbow of different numbers and crazy shapes. The top one, yellow, caught my eye. This was my heart rate. The normal resting rate of a human being is about 70-72 or so I’m led to believe. Mine at this point in time?…
Again I’ll cut things short. Blood tests, ECG’s, Arterial doo-dahs, chest x-ray, CAT scan, all done and came back normal. Eh!?? It wasn’t until one more test, Traponin, had been done that he consultant matched it up with a couple of other tests and could determine
that for 4 hours, I’d been having a heart attack.
I’d like to or wish I could make some kind of profound or even witty comment. But I’ll just type what I said to the guy after he told me….
So there it was, what more could I say. He explained that it was Coronary Artery Disease, or heart attack but my heart hasn’t been damaged, because “your heart is one mega strong tough little bastard”. 37 (and a half) and I’d gone and ‘had a coronary’.
So it seems life is chucking me another curveball to try and either sort me out or end me haha. You’re probably expecting me to now tell how terrifying it was, so I will. It was biblically scary. And you know the funny thing, I was laid strapped to the gurney in the ambulance trying to breathe as best I could and sucking in what seemed like gallons of gas and air thinking not that my life was flashing before my eyes or anything, but “try not stress and get upset, you’ll make Rona more worried”. I lay there trying not to break down and made myself stop crying because as much as I wanted to it really wouldn’t have helped either of us. I knew also that I was in expert hands and good care, but I was very very very scared. I’ve said it many times and will always stand by it: that the worst feeling you can experience as a human being is helplessness.
So the recovery begins, not in earnest, but in minuscule pieces. I’m not going to sit here and pontificate and patronise anyone by rolling out the old cliches of it being life-changing this or by the grace of God that though. Things happen to people for whatever reason. It is up to the individual to find the reasons why, choose the next step on their path, or to set whatever goals, or decide which choices to make as a result. I’ve already some choices that I hope will benefit myself and others for as long as I’m here and my recuperation has already begun. And here’s the thing, how many of you, when I said my recovery had started and choices were made, thought of something physical?
My first thought was not “oh well, I’ll be ditching the fags then eh”. It was “I’ll need to put in some amount of effort to cope with what just happened and what’s to come, inside my head” (I still haven’t processed it all a week after it happened).
But don’t think for a second that’s me being defeatist or depressing, no I’m prepping. Because I know there lies a tough battle ahead mentally. I can sit here right now and say “it’s okay, I know what’s coming. I’m strong enough to deal with it as and when”. AM I? We’ll see I guess. But best to have that thought in my head so hopefully I can remind myself of this paragraph for reference
I’ll feel useless. I’ll get upset. I’ll get angry because I want to go faster than I should. I’ll take it out on others. I’ll question myself. One thing I do know is this…..that I’ll have amazing people alongside me to tell when I’m being a dick, to reassure me, to hold my arm to the end of the street and back, and keep me upright when I get back cos I’m knackered. To make me laugh and feel loved. For that I can only offer a feeble but humble and massively grateful THANK YOU xxx. To everyone who has been through this with me and who will be there into the future.
I’m sure there will be more to be written about the events of the past week or so but for now I’ll sod off and leave you, in written form only haha. Because in the words of the nurse in charge…….
“You’re forty years too early pal”
Lots of love