I had cancer in college and the tumor was wrapped around my heart. Radiation "cured" me but unbeknowst to us, it had scarred the arteries of my heart. Fast forward to four years ago. I had felt terrible for a few years, struggled increasingly to exercise. I was miserable. Felt bad all the time. Had no energy AND was married to db on top of all that so you can imagine. I remember I had been in serious pain most the day. It felt like my neck and left shoulder were on fire. I also felt sick to my stomach and light headed. I had no idea I was having a heart attack and true to my nature I just plowed through the day until it got worse that night. I remember distinctly thinking....knowing something was wrong. I struggled to make the decision to go to the hospital. db, as always, scoffed at me. Rolled his eyes. Told me it was just me being fat and out of shape. Minimized it all as usual and instead of comforting me left me to suck it up and deal with whatever. I remember being in the shower and struggling. It hurt. I felt really bad. I knew I needed to go but dreaded telling him. I decided to wait until he fell asleep. He did and I wrote a note on a piece of notebook paper torn out of a composition book. I remember using a black sharpie to scribble out that I had just gone over to the hospital to check it out and would probably be back before he was even awake.
I was already minimizing myself as I drove. Feeling stupid for making a fuss and going to the emergency room. But I really felt bad :( So I drove myself over in the middle of the heart attack. They checked me in and ran some tests and broke the news to me. Ma'am. You were having a heart attack. I was gobsmacked. Interestingly enough, I didn't call home to tell db. I called my mom and told her. She came out to the hospital at 0200 and then drove to my house to wake him up and tell him and check on P.
The doctors had no idea WHY I had a heart attack so they decided to bundle me up and send me over to Fairfax hospital for a catheterization. They made light of it and said most likely they would find nothing and I would be headed home the next day. No biggie. They put me under and I went to sleep. I remember very fuzzy impressions of coming out of it and wondering why it felt like there was a paper sack in my chest. The doctor leaned down to my ear and told me that they had discovered my scarred arteries and one was blocked so bad an emergency bypass was needed. Another was blocked about 50% so they thought it best to deal with that also so it would be a double bypass. I was so out of it and still half under anesthesia and just responded mumbled okays to it all. I was too drugged up to even be scared. Last I recall, they told me the surgeon was flying in and that thing I felt was a balloon in my chest keeping me alive. Then it all went black again.
I woke up in ICU with a tube down my throat. It was awful but I remembered stories of people struggling against tubes and how that made it worse so was able to stay calm and they noticed I was awake. I used my fingers to communicate yes or no to their answers then fell back asleep. I woke up a few more times and managed to stay calm with the tube in but it was a struggle. Finally they said they would take it out and I was so happy. That may have also been the single most yucky incident of my life having that thing pulled out of me. It was horrible.
The next day they moved me to a room and I started to get the story. I learned that if I had waited eight more hours I would have dropped dead on the spot. I felt lucky and terrified all at the same time. I had to regain my legs, stand again, learn how to dress myself etc. I wasn't allowed to brush my hair or lift my arms up. It hurt and I still had tubes sticking out of me all over but I felt better than I had in a long time. The first thing everyone remarked on was my colour. I actually had color in my cheeks again.
One thing I will never forget is Thomas. My mom came to me after db had left one day and asked who this Thomas person was. He had heard through a mutual friend what happened and actually called my mom. I remember my mom said he sounded worried and concerned. I'll never forget that. Thomas even sent me a rose. One single rose. I remember feeling a little guilty when it arrived at the house. I was afraid it would piss db off so I threw away the card and pretended it was from a work friend. Of course, I stopped feeling bad when db never got me a flower or flowers. I was his wife. I had almost died. Thomas sent me that from around the world and db couldn't be bothered to do the dishes in the sink or tidy the house or do laundry while I was in the hospital so it would all be there waiting for me? I think I knew deep in my heart it was over then. Silly maybe but true. There were a few other incidents during my recovery that seem like forewarning looking back. Anyway. I went to cardio rehab and tried to go back to the gym but didn't get much traction. Finally....finally came the separation and that's when I went back to the gym and met Captain Awesome.
When I started with him, I was 70 pounds heavier and absolutely terrified to run or make my heart beat fast. Terrified. The first time on the treadmill, I ran 30 seconds and then literally burst into tears. He has been so patient with me. 30 seconds here. A minute there. Slow and steady he has helped me build my confidence. He once told me that my body was easy to train....my brain was a bigger challenge.
Laying on that table four years ago hearing I was going to have a double bypass, I never in a million years imagined I would be where I was today. Single. Happy. Training for a triathlon (I would have laughed my ass off if you told me that). Able to run for several minutes at a time. A number of 5ks under my belt. And my Thomas. My wonderful Thomas. He has been there for me all along. Even when I didn't know. I often think to myself that event was my rebirth. My awakening. My second chance. So much of what I do now is because I never want to regret not having tried. I never want to regret not indulging or exploring or loving or living again. I lost twelve years of my life and almost lost my actual life with a man who did not love or cherish or treasure me. Never again. Never.
It was about this time, four years ago, that I was laying on a surgery table with a balloon in my chest keeping me alive as a surgeon flew to fix me. Today, to celebrate my life, I lace up and go out for a run. It may not be swift and it may not be far but it sure as hell is amazing when you consider what could have been the alternative.
Hail Me.
07/16/2012
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