The man who was saved...

Father-OF-three Mark Jeffries (right), 52, a mechanic in West Drayton, London, suffered a major heart attack in September 2012.

CHEST PAIN STARTS

I’LL NEVER forget this moment: it’s 11.36am and I’m at an mot test centre in ruislip, Middlesex. One minute I’m fine, the next there’s a sharp pain in the top of my chest.

I don’t immediately realise it’s a heart attack. I’ve always been pretty fit — I coach a children’s football team, play in a five-a-side group with friends and don’t smoke.

I assume it’s indigestion and tell a colleague I’ve got chest pain. He offers to drive me to hospital, but I say no.

After 20 minutes, the pain’s still as bad and he takes me to A&E at Hillingdon Hospital.

ARRIVES AT HOSPITAL

I GET to the hospital 40 minutes after the heart attack and go to register at reception.

The pain isn’t getting any better and it feels as if my chest is on fire. I’m also very hot and sweaty.

I tell the receptionist I have chest pains and she immediately gives me a red card with a heart on it and tells me to go to cardiology around the corner.

FIVE MINUTES LATER

AT THE cardiology department, a nurse takes the red card and puts me in a side room, where I lie on a trolley.

She immediately hooks me up to an ECG monitor and gives me an aspirin to thin my blood. She also takes blood samples and sends them to the lab.

TEN MINUTES LATER

THE nurse looks at the ECG and says she’s moving me straight to the resuscitation area in A&E, where they treat the most seriously ill patients.

It really hits home that this is a serious situation and I’m feeling very scared that I might die.

I try to call my wife, Brenda, but it goes to answerphone. I call again and she picks up — thank goodness.

In the resuscitation area I’m suddenly surrounded by a crowd of people all focused on me. Some are running around and alarms are going off. A doctor tells me I’m having a heart attack, which I’d already guessed, and someone gives me an injection in my stomach, to help prevent the blood clotting in my arteries, and some pain medication.

Brenda — who is a medical secretary at the hospital’s maternity unit — arrives. She looks shaken up.

20 MINUTES LATER

THE doctor says I need to go to the specialist heart centre at Harefield Hospital in Middlesex as soon as possible, as I need surgery to open up arteries to my heart that are blocked.

Apparently, they can tell because my blood tests show high levels of proteins that suggest my heart is damaged.

Within minutes, I’m in an ambulance, sirens blaring, accompanied by a nurse from the cardiology department, two paramedics and Brenda.

I remember the 15-minute journey: I was there, but not there — it was like watching something on Tv.

35 MINUTES LATER

WE arrive at Harefield Hospital. When the ambulance doors open, there are about six people waiting for me.

I’m wheeled into a room, where they do an ultrasound scan to check the extent of the blockage. Apparently, one of my arteries is completely blocked and another is nearly blocked.

A cardiologist, rob Smith, introduces himself and tells me he’s going to carry out an angioplasty — putting a tiny balloon on a wire into the blood vessel via my groin and inflating it to widen it — and will insert a stent to keep the blood vessel open.

He reassures me that I’ll be fine. My wife tells me I look grey and gaunt.

40 MINUTES LATER

I’M given a local anaesthetic and Dr Smith carries out the angioplasty while I watch the whole thing on a screen. It’s amazing what they can do.