Everything was going along swimmingly. That was until Monday morning about 2am. Both my husband and I were having trouble sleeping. Actually he was having more trouble than I was because as it turns out, he was having a heart attack.
It seemed the pain started sometime around 9 pm on Sunday night, but he didn't say anything to me until that morning. At first he thought he had pulled a muscle or twinged a nerve in his arm lifting boxes. I was a bit worried that due to the severity of the pain and the fact it was in his left arm that it might be a heart attack. I went down the litany of questions one is supposed to ask. Was he experiencing shortness of breath, pain in the jaw or back, pressure on his chest. He answered "no" to all of those. The only normal symptom he had other than pain was nausea.
I drove him to the hospital and got him into the Emergency Room. I am so grateful for the ER staff there. They were so proactive in treating him. After about 20 minutes his symptoms worsened and I heard the words I had been dreading. "Mr. Hazel, you are having a heart attack." I wish I could tell you exactly what I was feeling at that moment, but honestly I don't remember. I do remember watching the staff work on him, and walking with him to the Cath Lab.
In the end, we discovered his left main coronary artery was 90% blocked. That particular artery is nicknamed the widow maker because there is only like a 10% survival rate for those who have a heart attack when that artery is involved.
There is at least a six week recovery period, but that's okay with me. I just feel blessed and lucky to have my husband with me today.
In a side note, if you even THINK you are having a heart attack, please don't wait. My husband is proof that the normal symptoms aren't always normal and that survival is tantamount to quick response.
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