Bit of a Heart Thing

On Sunday I was having a snack (healthy, I will add) after being out for a walk in the freezing rain and scraping off the ice encrusted hot tub lid. I figured I wouldn’t make it to dinner (I was around 3 pm… the time where you know that if you stay hungry, you’ll be so ravenous during dinner prep that you’ll eat half of everything you chop up). Mid snack I found myself experiencing some chest pain, coupled with pain between my shoulder blades and also pain down the backs of my arms and into my baby fingers. Not little pain. Serious pain. Out of nowhere. My thought process went like this:

– am I having an angina attack … or something? Am I stressed? Did I pull muscles in my arms when scraping that ice?

– I said “calm the fuck down” to myself, even though I felt perfectly calm.

– I thought hmm. I wonder if I’m having a heart attack? Well, if so, I’d better have a shower. 

– so I had a shower. Nervously. And quickly. 

– pain still there a bit, but better, maybe I’m ok? Lay my chest on the bathroom counter. Calm the fuck down. Breathe. 

– wondered … is this caused by the Herceptin? I’d better look that up. (Google search ensued) No connection to chest pain. Hmmm.

– back to snack area, had another episode … hurting again. Wondered – am I allergic to avocado? 

– decided I should likely go to the hospital – didn’t want to scare the kids. 

– went upstairs and quickly packed a bag with practically all of my technology, a book and my wallet 

– decided that it would be stupid to drive myself and not tell anyone – I would get serious shit for that from … everyone

– texted Paul and asked him to bring over the ribs now. And maybe he would need to drive me to the hospital. Now. 

– told the girls I wasn’t feeling well – that I’d text them – and that I would be ok … (Annie looked traumatized.)

– figured I’d be fine by the time I got to the hospital, but that I should still go, even though it was in the middle of an ice storm. Fine.

What happened at Emerg – Day One:

I sat in chairs for a bit as there were no receiving nurses in their little booths. The lady who came in behind me was having a hard time keeping her young daughter awake (she had hit her head) – so when the nurse finally came out I told her to go first. Got checked in eventually, put on a face mask (since she made me).

Charlie Brown
Lovely

I was ushered into a little room for an ECG. I took off my jacket and sweatshirt I realized that I looked a bit like a skinhead – all in black with my Doc Martens (for the icy roads). Had Paul take this pic … 

Skinhead Halloween costume
 It’s a keeper.

Then some blood work and into an exam room to wait for the results of the ECG and blood work. Eventually saw a doc who did a history and told me that everything looked fine in the tests so far. Went to the “lounge” to wait 3 hours till I could do a repeat of the ECG and blood work. Waited. It came back showing elevated levels of Triponin which is a marker of a heart attack. It can go as high as 40 … once it’s over 40 it’s considered a “massive heart attack” and they don’t measure it anymore. My first test was a .1 which was why no one seemed too concerned, second test was a 3 which showed that something definitely happened. (Eventually these markers went as high as 9.7 before they came back down again.)

So I had a heart attack. My head was spinning a bit.

I was put in a different room in emerg where the doc asked me if I still had any pain. (Everyone was taking it more seriously now.) I told him that I had some pressure in my throat and carotid (neck) but that I wouldn’t call it pain. He just stared at me. I guess I’ve become so used to discomfort with the chemo side effects … a bit of pressure in the throat is no big deal. He gave me some pills to thin my blood. And some big huge potassium pills – had to break them in half. Lots of pills. 

Pills
2018 = so many drugs!

Oh, and some morphine. I said I didn’t want any thanks. They said it was important to take away the remaining pain in my throat and carotid – but also because it also acts as a vasodilator, which is important apparently. Once high as a kite I was much less upset about having a heart attack. Go figure. Saw the cardiologist who had a great handshake, the same haircut as me and explained that I’d need an angiogram. This was the quote of the day: “Dr. Ball? B. A. L. L.?” (Said morphined up Janice. Deanne thought it was hilarious.) 

Transferred to  my the ICU at 1am. Much quieter there. Sleeping pill. Annnnnnd out. 

What happened at the ICU – Day Two:

I lay in bed all day waiting for the angiogram. Had a muffin that Paul got me at Tim’s – the Hospital food was not quite appealing enough… 

Cereal for the elderly
This begins to look good when you’re not allowed to eat anything …

Wasn’t able to eat anything after 10 until after my procedure was done. We all placed bets on when we thought it would happen – one of the nurses was hopeful with a 1:30 slot – Michele went long with 5:00. No one won since they couldn’t fit me in. I know it’s a good thing that I was low on the priority list for an angiogram, but being hooked up all day in bed (and hungry) kinda sucked. And so many things attached to my body … heart, finger, wrist. Yeesh. 

Needle and the damage done
Necessary. Evil.

Highlights of the day included a visit from Michele and Deanne where we suddenly realized that Paul and Michele were dressed exactly alike. Which we found outrageously amusing. 

Twinning
Seriously funny!

Quote of the day: “You’ve kind of had a shit year.” (Deanne)  … seemed a lot funnier in the moment.

Later a visit from Alison when we determined that yes, I could knit if I put the oximeter on my toe. Works like a charm. Called Bree and Annie to have them find me a Zauberball and some needles to be delivered the next day. Excited!

 

Toe jam
Good thing I have long, skinny toes!

Sleeping pill. Annnnnnd out.

What happened at the Hospital – Day Three:

After a breakfast of grapes had a visit from my 2nd cardiologist (who I also met yesterday and his name is impossible to spell, I will add). He confirmed that this regimen of pills will be my “new normal” (minus the needle they put in my belly at night – I don’t have to do that one at home). He explained that I’d be moving to Telemetry which sounded to me like a Hogwarts class (he didn’t laugh). He told the nurse to get me up and moving HURRAY! And he explained what will happen with the angiogram – that if there is a blockage in the vessels they will put in a stent right then, but if there are several they will not do open heart surgery since I’ve just had chemo  (ok, …. was that a joke? … he didn’t laugh..) I filed it under ‘that’s good to know’. 

So I’m signing off now … will post again after the angiogram. So exciting, this life of mine! Stay tuned… 

 

9 thoughts on “Bit of a Heart Thing

  1. Oh my lord! I don’t even know what to say!! I’m having a heart attack just reading this!! It never rains, it pours, I guess??? ! And yet another marathon of medical things we never consider. I am so sorry you are going through all this stuff. NOW THAT’S ENOUGH!! Come on God or whom ever, quit it!! Pick on somebody who needs to be picked on ….like Trump!!!
    Xoxoxo

  2. Oh my goodness, Janice, I don’t know what to say either! I am just very grateful that you realized it was serious and went to the hospital sooner rather than later! I am also so very sorry that you have another “thing” on your plate, but if there’s anyone on this planet that can handle it…it’s you!!! Wish I was there to give you a big hug in person but since I’m not, I’m sending light, love & prayers!! XOXOXOX

  3. Well, it is never boring reading one of your blogs, Janice, but…..OMG! Are you kidding me?
    You were so smart not to ignore your symptoms. And so sweet to not want to alarm your kids.
    This is just more than you need to deal with….
    Here I was going to see if you would be in the Suite tomorrow, but guess not!
    Sending hugs your way….❤️

  4. Oh my goodness. I have no words. Thinking of you. As Kirk says, “keep on keeping on.”

  5. Janice,

    Once again you are facing all of this insanity with such a positive energy. The medical gods need to stop all this craziness and leave you the heck alone. Your peeps at Chemong are thinking of you and sending virtual hugs your way.
    Hoping everything goes well with the angioplasty.
    Big hugs,
    Pamela

  6. Only you could look like such a good badass when you’re lying on a bed with your Doc Martens!
    Sending gentle hugs!
    Tanys

  7. Janice. A shit year to say the least. Thinking of you and praying that this is turning point, you’ve proven your strength, resilience, hope and anything else there is to prove. No more health issues. Stay positive. Hugs and kisses being sent your way.

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