A journey through a heart attack and out the other side
Discussion
Best wishes DMN - I have been a follower of your other thread and wish you the best with everything.
FWIW - I've been there so do know what you are going through.
Old thread here - http://www.pistonheads.com/gassing/topic.asp?h=0&a...
If I can help or you want to chat.......
FWIW - I've been there so do know what you are going through.
Old thread here - http://www.pistonheads.com/gassing/topic.asp?h=0&a...
If I can help or you want to chat.......
I turned 49 last month. I still think I'm indestructible. Reading things like this is sobering.drivin_me_nuts said:
I'm 49. Probably prime candidate for it. A bit overweight, don't handle stress very well and I've had more than enough stress to take its toll over the last few years.
It's a wake up call for me.
I'm lucky. I get a second bite at this thing called life.
I was about to write that you've had a sIt's a wake up call for me.
I'm lucky. I get a second bite at this thing called life.
tty few years, Russell, and you don't need this on top of it all. I wish you very best of luck for a full recovery and a more peaceful life for at least several years if not longer.Hey Zod - I recently bit the bullet and went for a full cardiac check. What they found was not perfect but they have now got my issue under control. And I can say that it has been like a great weight lifted now i KNOW what th eactual position is.
No more wondering.
I highly recommend it (Soov, aged 45).
No more wondering.
I highly recommend it (Soov, aged 45).
Soov535 said:
Hey Zod - I recently bit the bullet and went for a full cardiac check. What they found was not perfect but they have now got my issue under control. And I can say that it has been like a great weight lifted now i KNOW what th eactual position is.
No more wondering.
I highly recommend it (Soov, aged 45).
I had a full check (with ultrasound) a few years ago and all was fine. I should go again. I always put off medicals until I'm happy that I've been exercising a lot and drinking less for a month or more. Utterly stupid, I know!No more wondering.
I highly recommend it (Soov, aged 45).
Zod said:
Soov535 said:
Hey Zod - I recently bit the bullet and went for a full cardiac check. What they found was not perfect but they have now got my issue under control. And I can say that it has been like a great weight lifted now i KNOW what th eactual position is.
No more wondering.
I highly recommend it (Soov, aged 45).
I had a full check (with ultrasound) a few years ago and all was fine. I should go again. I always put off medicals until I'm happy that I've been exercising a lot and drinking less for a month or more. Utterly stupid, I know!No more wondering.
I highly recommend it (Soov, aged 45).
Soov535 said:
Hey Zod - I recently bit the bullet and went for a full cardiac check. What they found was not perfect but they have now got my issue under control. And I can say that it has been like a great weight lifted now i KNOW what th eactual position is.
No more wondering.
I highly recommend it (Soov, aged 45).
Very strongly second this, if you've any reason at all to think there's anything to check on (longterm stress, carrying a bit of extra weight, family history of heart disease etc etc would all each qualify as something to check on). No more wondering.
I highly recommend it (Soov, aged 45).
I got a bit of an MOT when I was referred to a tertiary hospital at the end of last year, which checked pretty much everything you could look for in a blood test, and included stuff like cholesterol levels which they just do not usually do in people under 40 or 45 or so. It found a genetically-caused sky-high level of blood cholesterol which untreated causes something like a 10-20% heart attack risk in the next 10 years. It's incredibly easily treated with statins. I am 30. I feel stupidly lucky - I've got enough wonky bits of me without adding avoidable issues!
One of the downsides of a heart attack (of which there are a few!) Is the delight of the beta blocker. Now, as helpful as this drug is, it causes a rather annoying side effect of making the heart run slower. Great I hear you say. Well, not so when you've now got a blood pressure running somewhere at 99/50 and not when wishing to escape your own failings in the bog of doom.
Codeine and me disagree. A lot. A real lot. So after several days of feeling six months pregnant with a stalled bowel, the laxative finally Mr muscled it's way through the fetid mess in my belly.
Yesterday was also the day I was told I could get up and walk again. The two were never really going to end well.
When the laxative kicked in I was out the bed like an old horse at the gate upon sniffing the glue van on invite day.
I made it the short distance to the toilet with what can best be described as Satan's python doing its damdest to escape.
But the relief. Four days of decomposition emerged in a staccato explosion of stench and slippery fifth. It was real bad, made worse by me knowing the stench and noise was permeating the door a few foot from the nurses station.
And then in those few moments of utter relief that comes from the realisation that I was now empty came the extra realisation I was feeling really spacey.
Slowly I got up. I held on to the rail. Yep, OK. I wash my hands, slowly turn around and opened the door.
Now there was no hiding the stench. It was horrific. It was making me sick and all I wanted to do was escape the scene of the crime as quickly as I could. But why do nurses stand outside the damned toilet door to hold conversations?
What the hell. I opened the door..took one step forwards and then my legs decided to abandon me to my shame.
I collapsed. The whole damned nursing station was now watching me on the floor, arse out and laughing at my predicament. But not just them, the visitors walking past to see there loved ones were now bearing witness to both my ring of fire and Satan's stench which was enveloping me in its sickly fug of cloying rolling foulness.
Of course the nurses were concerned. But there concern was limited to a 4ft radio us of my actual position. What was worse was the indignity of having to get myself up by levering myself between two chairs to get upright.
The rest of the afternoon was spent squiggly in a chair, curtains closed. Later on I returned for part deux. I swear my earlier efforts have acid etched the enamel from the bog.
But the relief, oh God it was worth it.
Codeine and me disagree. A lot. A real lot. So after several days of feeling six months pregnant with a stalled bowel, the laxative finally Mr muscled it's way through the fetid mess in my belly.
Yesterday was also the day I was told I could get up and walk again. The two were never really going to end well.
When the laxative kicked in I was out the bed like an old horse at the gate upon sniffing the glue van on invite day.
I made it the short distance to the toilet with what can best be described as Satan's python doing its damdest to escape.
But the relief. Four days of decomposition emerged in a staccato explosion of stench and slippery fifth. It was real bad, made worse by me knowing the stench and noise was permeating the door a few foot from the nurses station.
And then in those few moments of utter relief that comes from the realisation that I was now empty came the extra realisation I was feeling really spacey.
Slowly I got up. I held on to the rail. Yep, OK. I wash my hands, slowly turn around and opened the door.
Now there was no hiding the stench. It was horrific. It was making me sick and all I wanted to do was escape the scene of the crime as quickly as I could. But why do nurses stand outside the damned toilet door to hold conversations?
What the hell. I opened the door..took one step forwards and then my legs decided to abandon me to my shame.
I collapsed. The whole damned nursing station was now watching me on the floor, arse out and laughing at my predicament. But not just them, the visitors walking past to see there loved ones were now bearing witness to both my ring of fire and Satan's stench which was enveloping me in its sickly fug of cloying rolling foulness.
Of course the nurses were concerned. But there concern was limited to a 4ft radio us of my actual position. What was worse was the indignity of having to get myself up by levering myself between two chairs to get upright.
The rest of the afternoon was spent squiggly in a chair, curtains closed. Later on I returned for part deux. I swear my earlier efforts have acid etched the enamel from the bog.
But the relief, oh God it was worth it.
NDA said:
Glad to hear you're on the mend - and that the python has left the building.
I've just had a load of exploratory stuff done - angiogram etc - which may result in a bypass op. Not something I'm looking forward to.
But good to hear you're ok.
What ever your worries are now, the relief afterwards will be worth it.I've just had a load of exploratory stuff done - angiogram etc - which may result in a bypass op. Not something I'm looking forward to.
But good to hear you're ok.
It's nothing to be afraid of, rather look forwards to life after the engine upgrade
I had my first heart attack mid fifties, former military background, fit, played squash and swam twice a week. A stressful job, coupled with high business mileage and tight deadlines for major bid responses probably bought it about
What shouldn't be ignored is the negative mental element you can experience post attack. There can be a disassociation of self and body, a great feeling that your body has let you down. Your body being your best friend and doing this to you.
I know it sounds a bit far fetched, but I went through this some months after leaving hospital, and it makes you introspective, quiter, more reflective and a little disappointed in oneself. I guess if you know this may well be coming you can be better prepared.
I miss food that came in shells, eggs prawns etc, and I don't play squash anymore but do swim.
Best of luck for the future OP
What shouldn't be ignored is the negative mental element you can experience post attack. There can be a disassociation of self and body, a great feeling that your body has let you down. Your body being your best friend and doing this to you.
I know it sounds a bit far fetched, but I went through this some months after leaving hospital, and it makes you introspective, quiter, more reflective and a little disappointed in oneself. I guess if you know this may well be coming you can be better prepared.
I miss food that came in shells, eggs prawns etc, and I don't play squash anymore but do swim.
Best of luck for the future OP
Edited by e600 on Tuesday 7th June 08:46
I didn't have a heart attack [cardiomyopathy and atrial fibrilation] but there was enough to ensure I called the ambulance service quick enough. I was 2 hours from home, and working away.
I spent 2 weeks in hospital, having angiogram [wrist fortunately and no stent], scans etc. The food in York hospital was pretty reasonable, Xmas dinner was a bit meh but not to bad. I had CT, MRI and ultrasonic scans, the MRI scan was the most memorable, it was miniature. I am sure they had a tub of grease somewhere. 60 minutes of holding your breath and not moving, luckily I refused the curry the previous day!
The previous poster mentioned the mind effects of this experience, it's so correct and if not controlled I am sure that it could end up as depression [not suggesting that this will affect anyone on here].
I had a hard time with the mountain of pills I had / have to take, st loads! I was put on ACE not beta blockers which was a relief. Added to that 6 months later I was diagnosed with diabetes ffs. Just the knowing that I will be on these pills for the rest of time is frustrating [oh and fks up the travel insurance]
3 years later I am still under the cardiologist, 6 monthly appointments. I feel great but there are limitations that I have to consider.
Best of luck OP, it will turn out right
Edited to say: the worst part was being told about the fact I should not scuba dive again
I spent 2 weeks in hospital, having angiogram [wrist fortunately and no stent], scans etc. The food in York hospital was pretty reasonable, Xmas dinner was a bit meh but not to bad. I had CT, MRI and ultrasonic scans, the MRI scan was the most memorable, it was miniature. I am sure they had a tub of grease somewhere. 60 minutes of holding your breath and not moving, luckily I refused the curry the previous day!
The previous poster mentioned the mind effects of this experience, it's so correct and if not controlled I am sure that it could end up as depression [not suggesting that this will affect anyone on here].
I had a hard time with the mountain of pills I had / have to take, s
t loads! I was put on ACE not beta blockers which was a relief. Added to that 6 months later I was diagnosed with diabetes ffs. Just the knowing that I will be on these pills for the rest of time is frustrating [oh and fks up the travel insurance]3 years later I am still under the cardiologist, 6 monthly appointments. I feel great but there are limitations that I have to consider.
Best of luck OP, it will turn out right
Edited to say: the worst part was being told about the fact I should not scuba dive again
Edited by carinatauk on Tuesday 7th June 08:18
For myself the mental aspect is one that I considered soon after I came around from the stent.
The way I see it at the moment this is a bit of an exploration and an adventure in to how far my boundaries lie. I'm looking forward in a couple of weeks to testing my ticker and I just know that Trainer Road will end up being my cycling motivator to get my cardio strength back.
There's also something else from those who know my story and that's what happened to my lass. Compared to what she went through, this was all five minutes and she dealt with the worst that cancer could ever do to a body. But she looked after me. And now I'm remarried and my wife is now standing where I once stood, it's my turn to step up and be the person that one I loved was once to me.
Some things you experience, however bad they are Mark you for life, but in a positive way. Even now she's helping me. How lucky am I to have been loved so much and to be loved so much.
It's only when you feel your mortality the greatest, do you draw on the good around you and do you find details that inner core of what is your 'strength'.
I've never thought myself strong. I felt utterly useless when lily was going through hell and for a long time afterwards I felt I'd let her down - and I hated myself.
I would have so willingly swapped places with her. And afterwards I wished it was me that had died and not her.
But then, two days ago when I fell apart late at night, two floors down from where she had spend so long and where we got married, I realised for the first time in a very long time that I really do want to live. And it hit me harder than anything had since lily died.
I want to live. It has taken me to reach a point of staring at my own fragile mortality to realise that me wishing that I could have swapped with lily, had actually become something that had turned off half my own life force.
It's been a sobering few days. It's been very hard to sit here realising that at times I've been only half the man I could have been.
This has been the most extraordinarily hard part of this - the realisation that if I had died on Friday I would have not honoured the promise I made lily before she died - the promise of loving again and living again. Living. I'm only just today really beginning to unlock what that actually means. And you know what, it's both liberating and very very frightening at the same time.
Sometimes, it's not the losing of another that makes you appreciate life. Grief destroys that. Sometimes, it's staring at your own mortality that puts everything into a context you never knew, even existed.
Russell
The way I see it at the moment this is a bit of an exploration and an adventure in to how far my boundaries lie. I'm looking forward in a couple of weeks to testing my ticker and I just know that Trainer Road will end up being my cycling motivator to get my cardio strength back.
There's also something else from those who know my story and that's what happened to my lass. Compared to what she went through, this was all five minutes and she dealt with the worst that cancer could ever do to a body. But she looked after me. And now I'm remarried and my wife is now standing where I once stood, it's my turn to step up and be the person that one I loved was once to me.
Some things you experience, however bad they are Mark you for life, but in a positive way. Even now she's helping me. How lucky am I to have been loved so much and to be loved so much.
It's only when you feel your mortality the greatest, do you draw on the good around you and do you find details that inner core of what is your 'strength'.
I've never thought myself strong. I felt utterly useless when lily was going through hell and for a long time afterwards I felt I'd let her down - and I hated myself.
I would have so willingly swapped places with her. And afterwards I wished it was me that had died and not her.
But then, two days ago when I fell apart late at night, two floors down from where she had spend so long and where we got married, I realised for the first time in a very long time that I really do want to live. And it hit me harder than anything had since lily died.
I want to live. It has taken me to reach a point of staring at my own fragile mortality to realise that me wishing that I could have swapped with lily, had actually become something that had turned off half my own life force.
It's been a sobering few days. It's been very hard to sit here realising that at times I've been only half the man I could have been.
This has been the most extraordinarily hard part of this - the realisation that if I had died on Friday I would have not honoured the promise I made lily before she died - the promise of loving again and living again. Living. I'm only just today really beginning to unlock what that actually means. And you know what, it's both liberating and very very frightening at the same time.
Sometimes, it's not the losing of another that makes you appreciate life. Grief destroys that. Sometimes, it's staring at your own mortality that puts everything into a context you never knew, even existed.
Russell
drivin_me_nuts said:
For myself the mental aspect is one that I considered soon after I came around from the stent.
The way I see it at the moment this is a bit of an exploration and an adventure in to how far my boundaries lie. I'm looking forward in a couple of weeks to testing my ticker and I just know that Trainer Road will end up being my cycling motivator to get my cardio strength back.
There's also something else from those who know my story and that's what happened to my lass. Compared to what she went through, this was all five minutes and she dealt with the worst that cancer could ever do to a body. But she looked after me. And now I'm remarried and my wife is now standing where I once stood, it's my turn to step up and be the person that one I loved was once to me.
Some things you experience, however bad they are Mark you for life, but in a positive way. Even now she's helping me. How lucky am I to have been loved so much and to be loved so much.
It's only when you feel your mortality the greatest, do you draw on the good around you and do you find details that inner core of what is your 'strength'.
I've never thought myself strong. I felt utterly useless when lily was going through hell and for a long time afterwards I felt I'd let her down - and I hated myself.
I would have so willingly swapped places with her. And afterwards I wished it was me that had died and not her.
But then, two days ago when I fell apart late at night, two floors down from where she had spend so long and where we got married, I realised for the first time in a very long time that I really do want to live. And it hit me harder than anything had since lily died.
I want to live. It has taken me to reach a point of staring at my own fragile mortality to realise that me wishing that I could have swapped with lily, had actually become something that had turned off half my own life force.
It's been a sobering few days. It's been very hard to sit here realising that at times I've been only half the man I could have been.
This has been the most extraordinarily hard part of this - the realisation that if I had died on Friday I would have not honoured the promise I made lily before she died - the promise of loving again and living again. Living. I'm only just today really beginning to unlock what that actually means. And you know what, it's both liberating and very very frightening at the same time.
Sometimes, it's not the losing of another that makes you appreciate life. Grief destroys that. Sometimes, it's staring at your own mortality that puts everything into a context you never knew, even existed.
Russell
Sobering words and a very interesting read. My only words are of encouragement. You sound a lot stronger, mentally, already. Hang in there and good luck for the journey ahead.The way I see it at the moment this is a bit of an exploration and an adventure in to how far my boundaries lie. I'm looking forward in a couple of weeks to testing my ticker and I just know that Trainer Road will end up being my cycling motivator to get my cardio strength back.
There's also something else from those who know my story and that's what happened to my lass. Compared to what she went through, this was all five minutes and she dealt with the worst that cancer could ever do to a body. But she looked after me. And now I'm remarried and my wife is now standing where I once stood, it's my turn to step up and be the person that one I loved was once to me.
Some things you experience, however bad they are Mark you for life, but in a positive way. Even now she's helping me. How lucky am I to have been loved so much and to be loved so much.
It's only when you feel your mortality the greatest, do you draw on the good around you and do you find details that inner core of what is your 'strength'.
I've never thought myself strong. I felt utterly useless when lily was going through hell and for a long time afterwards I felt I'd let her down - and I hated myself.
I would have so willingly swapped places with her. And afterwards I wished it was me that had died and not her.
But then, two days ago when I fell apart late at night, two floors down from where she had spend so long and where we got married, I realised for the first time in a very long time that I really do want to live. And it hit me harder than anything had since lily died.
I want to live. It has taken me to reach a point of staring at my own fragile mortality to realise that me wishing that I could have swapped with lily, had actually become something that had turned off half my own life force.
It's been a sobering few days. It's been very hard to sit here realising that at times I've been only half the man I could have been.
This has been the most extraordinarily hard part of this - the realisation that if I had died on Friday I would have not honoured the promise I made lily before she died - the promise of loving again and living again. Living. I'm only just today really beginning to unlock what that actually means. And you know what, it's both liberating and very very frightening at the same time.
Sometimes, it's not the losing of another that makes you appreciate life. Grief destroys that. Sometimes, it's staring at your own mortality that puts everything into a context you never knew, even existed.
Russell
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