I Survived

I'm writing this from the comfort of my home on Tuesday, August 22nd, 2017. It's been two days since my "episode", and all I can say is "I survived". I have been feeling strange for some time now. I get numbness in my left arm frequently and headaches occasionally. I usually just tell myself it's because of the sciatic issue I have. Lower back pain is a constant reminder of too many years of construction work. Stay in school kids, you do not want to resort to manual labor, trust me. I still would much rather deal with that annoyance than this. Two days ago I had a syncope, which is just a fancy word for fainting or passing out. The nurses and physician assistants told me it was contributed to dehydration and/or low blood sugar. The cardiologist said that the symptoms were classic signs of a mild heart attack. It sure felt more like a heart attack to me. So I'll explain and hopefully someone can share their experience and solutions with me.
We had planned a brunch meeting with some of my family members that were visiting from North Carolina. We chose our local spot "The Grind" because of the amazing buffet style setup. We had all overslept and were rushing to get everyone ready to go. Loading up kids and adults took several minutes too long and I, for one, was losing my patience. I get that way when I'm tired and hungry. Finally the two vehicles and ten people made our way towards deliciousness. It's just a short two-mile drive and usually there's not even enough time to think about anything more serious than the view of the Halifax river as we head south on beach street. However, today would be a-lot different. Almost immediately my chest began to tighten and my left arm started to go numb. I raised my arm over my head and tried to take long deep breaths. This somehow makes me feel better, not really sure why or how. The feeling subsided somewhat and I though I was in the clear. I pulled into the valet line just as I have dozens of times before and awaited the attendant for my ticket stub. Immediately upon opening the car door the heat was overwhelming. My head began to feel dizzy, the numbness returned to my arm and my chest constricted like a python on prey. I found the nearest curb and sat down for a quick rest. No one else seemed to notice my struggle. After the brief rest, I got up and felt like the worst was over. That would be the most incorrect I have ever been. The walk from the valet stand to the entrance is less that one hundred feet, but it felt like it was a mile. I was moving in slow motion and the whole earth was spinning wildly at my feet. I made the four or five stairs up onto the deck area, and that was it. The hostess greeted our party and immediately had a table ready. The group ahead of me proceeded to follow her, and that's when it happened. I felt more than dizzy, almost like a "pins and needles" feeling filled my whole body. My left arm and chest were on fire, and I could feel the daylight slipping out of my eyes and leaving me in the dark. I scrambled to grab a stool or chair to hold myself up. And the last thing I felt was an electrical lightning bolt through my heart. If it weren't for Joel being right behind me, I would have fallen straight on my face. I tried to grab that stool, I really did. I could feel this happening and I still could not stop myself. It just happened that fast.
Because I was unconscious, I really can't tell you what happened next. All I remember is waking up. My face was inches from the floor, I could see a shoe that wasn't mine and it confused me. My wife was yelling in my ear, the sound was like a whisper to me. As light started to return to my eyes, I felt arms picking me up, and the voice got louder. "Are you alright"? she said over and over, "Shane, are you alright"? I could sense the panic in her words yet I couldn't answer. Three or four more times I heard her question me and finally I blurted out the only thing that I could. "I'm fine, just need some water". I was clearly NOT fine. In the sixty second ordeal I had literally drenched all my clothing in sweat. Like dripping wet. My face, I was told, was as white as clouds and clammy as an oyster. Everything was still spinning and it was very hard to breath. I was standing but not under my own power. "Take me home" I said, and somehow regained just enough stability to manage a few steps forward. Hands were grabbing at me and some escorted me to the parking lot. I only remember the heat at this point. I felt like I was standing on the surface of the sun, sweat pouring down and my head still revolving like a carousel. Confusion consumed me, I could not think straight let alone answer all the questions that were being thrown my way. As we entered the vehicle, the only thing I could focus on was my daughter sitting in the back seat, and I kept saying to myself over and over, "GOD, please don't let this happen in front of her". I just KNEW, this was the end for me.
Once the car got cooled off from the air conditioning I felt a little better. Not good, but better. For some reason I told my wife to drive me home. It was the closest thing to comfort I figured. And she obliged me, not wanting to upset me any further. Once there she made a phone call to a nurse that we know and explained the ordeal. "You need to take him to the ER", "NOW" she said. And just like that the decision was made. Back in the car we go.
The distance to the hospital is only eight miles as the crow flies. The drive there however, takes at least twenty minutes. Red lights, Stop signs and literal Sunday drivers were impeding us at every chance. I kept my left arm high over my head as we drove. The dizziness had returned and my chest pains had turned to an annoying pressure that filled my body. I've heard the analogy "an elephant sitting on your chest", and that's highly accurate. It was impossible for me to take long deep breaths as I would have in the past. Holding in for an extended period and then blowing out with short, loud bursts were all I had. My wife was somewhere in between panic and hysteria as she drove. My daughter at just nine years old sat in the back, silent, holding my outstretched hand. She never shed a tear. Never once let me see the worry in her eyes. I know it was there, but she was calm as can be.
The Hospital finally appeared in the distance, not a moment too soon. We pulled into the ER parking with a screech and my wife ran to the door. I imagine she went in screaming for help, and the hospital staff came out with a wheelchair straight away. The orderly rolled me in and sat me at the front desk. No waiting in line today folks. The reception clerk took my ID and created an intake bracelet promptly. I'm sure they could see the seriousness in my appearance. Still sweaty, still clammy and definitely pale as a gallon of milk. Doors opened, hallways cleared and we made haste towards the cardiac wing. I was starting to gain a sense of the situation now. My earlier confusion was replaced with an apprehensive nervousness I have never felt before. "This is REAL" I kept saying to myself as the chair moved forward. The thought made me even more worried. In the blink of an eye the nurses had me on a bed and were attaching sticky patches with electrical leads on my skin. Four, five six and more they just kept placing these odd little circles on me. Wires were strewn in every direction and I could hear their concern. Blood pressure cuff, stethoscope and an IV (I cried when inserted, but don't tell anyone) were secured to me, and I was instructed to lay down and try to breath easy. Truth is, I couldn't. That damn elephant was still with me and would stay for several more hours.
I really believe that the temperature of that hospital might have been exactly what I needed. The arctic conditions cooled my body and I finally felt calm. My head was still filled with the tingling of the earlier trauma. My neck, shoulders and back are still sore as I write this. And I still don't feel one hundred percent, but I SURVIVED.