My broken heart
I thought I just had a trapped nerve… But it was a heart attack!
It was one of those typical busy mornings and I was rushing to get my sons Jack, then 2, and George, then 9 months, ready. Me and my hubby Gareth, then 36, had planned a day out shopping together.
But first we had to drop the boys off with family.
Carrying George’s car seat to the car, I felt a sudden shooting pain in my chest.
It shot across my shoulder and lasted about 30 seconds. ‘Ow!’ I gasped, pausing. The pain lingered slightly all morning.
‘I think I’ve got a trapped nerve,’ I said to Gareth.
After a bit of shopping, we had lunch.
But as we ate, my arms felt numb and I couldn’t grip properly.
But still, I just thought I’d been overdoing things. After all, life with a baby and toddler was hectic.
Later that night in December 2015, the pain in my chest and arm started getting stronger. It spread to my jaw, too. ‘It feels like someone’s pulling my teeth,’ I moaned to Gareth.
So I took some painkillers, and had a lie down.
I must’ve passed out because, two hours later, I woke up.
Feeling worried, I phoned the NHS 111 service.
‘We’ll send a paramedic,’ the operator told me.
I thought they were
overreacting, still convinced it was a trapped nerve. ‘There’s no need…’ I said. But they sent one anyway. A paramedic did an ECG to check my heart’s activity.
‘Everything seems fine,’ he explained.
But, because I had chest and arm pains, he was concerned, so I was taken to Northern General Hospital.
There I had more tests, scans, a chest X-ray… Everything was clear. But, after a blood test, I finally had answers…
‘You’ve had a heart attack,’ a doctor confirmed.
‘A heart attack? But I’m only 33!’ I gasped.
It didn’t make any sense.
I didn’t smoke, rarely drank, was fit and healthy. There was no history of heart problems in my family, either.
‘Are you sure you’ve got the right results?’ I asked.
There hadn’t been any mistake, though.
I had to be hooked up to heart monitors in the High-dependency Unit.
The following day, a doctor did another heart scan and wasn’t happy with the results.
‘Your left artery has dissected,’ he explained.
I was rushed for surgery to have a stent fitted, have my right artery unblocked.
I was kept in hospital for three days.
Turned out I’d suffered spontaneous coronary artery dissection (SCAD).
It’s when a sudden tear occurs within the layers of one or more arteries to the heart.
‘This tear blocks blood flow and causes a heart attack,’ a doctor explained.
But doctors didn’t know what had caused my SCAD. It was just one of those things.
Back home, I had to take blood-pressure medication and blood thinners, which I’ll be on for the rest of my life.
I still had chest pains occasionally and I’d feel tired all of the time.
I began to worry about suffering from another heart attack.
Any sharp pain sent my anxiety into overdrive.
I was scared to go to sleep in case I didn’t wake up.
I was also worried about being on my own with the children.
My anxiety got so bad I needed counselling.
Slowly, I began to rebuild my confidence, though.
Now I refuse to let my broken heart beat me.
Regular scans show I’m doing OK.
I want to raise awareness for heart conditions, and I’ve raised funds for charity Beat SCAD and the British Heart Foundation (BHF).
I still can’t believe I had a heart attack.
I used to associate them with older, overweight men.
But I’m proof they really can strike anyone.
it didn’t make any sense. i wasn’t a smoker, rarely drank, was fit…