My ‘good’ heart attacks
A while back I came across an article with the line, “There is no such thing as a good heart attack.” The statement may be factually so. But as you might have guessed from the title of this column, I have a contrarian viewpoint. At least for myself.
So, why write again about my heart attacks? My thought is that it would be timely as February is Heart Awareness Month.
Moreover, Feb. 25, 2022, is a milestone for me. It was 25 years ago when my first heart attack struck. There have been hardships along the way. But my heart disease has led to moments of reflection and reorientation I felt worth sharing. These aspects constitute the “good” in these heart attacks.
Most people would not think of a heart attack as involving anything “good.” That’s a certainty when one realizes that according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention someone in the United States has a heart attack every 40 seconds. .
Add to that the thinking of cardiologists such as A Dr. Edward I. Morris from the Washington Hospital Center. He said the average person who survives a first heart attack may survive a second, sometimes a third but very few survive more.
I fall into the “very few survive more” crowd with five notches on my heart. Yet, I’m in good health and still fly, mostly on business, throughout the United States.
So, what are a few “good” aspects of these five attacks?
Throughout the years before the heart attacks my verbal blunders were commonplace. A family friend once stopped talking to us because immediately after she gave birth I said, “All new babies look the same.”
After my heart issue began, I seriously tried to be more careful about what I said. Especially so when I implied a given purchase was my last one of its kind. My once saying, “This is the last suit I’ll buy” was pegged as morbid.
Recently, a daughter heard me say in front of my grandchildren, “This is the last computer I’ll ever get.” She scolded me for the “finality prediction” inference. I’ve gotten better because of my “good” heart attacks. But there is still the occasional faux pas.
Moreover, my heart attacks have allowed me to compile a list of humorous vignettes. Of course, they were less amusing during their happenings than they are now. Occasionally I use them to make a point in presentations.
I laugh now when I remember the seemingly astounded cardiologist at my hospital bedside in 2013 when I asked him, “Where can I get a pair of those great-looking eyeglass frames like yours?” He exclaimed “You just had a serious heart attack and you’re asking me about my glasses.” I did get the information and later bought the same type of Oliver Peoples frames he had on.
My favorite hospital story was seeing my nurse aide’s name, “Toyota” on my hospital room blackboard. When I asked her about its origin, she said, “My mother conceived me in the back seat of a Toyota.” Since then, I have I wondered what her given name might have been if the conception had taken place in a Beetle, a Range Rover or a Lamborghini.
My heart attacks have also brought me additional meaningful contacts with people. Over the years, heart patients have sought my counseling advice. Not from a medical perspective. That is left to the professionals. My exchange with them has been mostly about what I did to cope with stress. Which seriously began after my first surprising attack six months after quadruple bypass surgery.
Without warning, flashes of anxiety would consume me. Once in our car we were ready to travel to relatives. The anxiety became overwhelming. We had to postpone the visit. Because of my anxious moments we made countless false alarm trips to the emergency room.
There were so many such trips that I soon knew where we were at each point on the ride to the ER by looking out the ambulance windows. The shapes of the treetops on the roads were my markers.
The heart attacks continued over those 25 years, the last one on Valentine’s Day in 2019. That one was free from the overbearing anxiety I experienced previously.
I no longer need to rely solely on one of the lessons learned in my group therapy stress sessions over 20 years ago about relaxing myself. Back then anytime I became anxious I would imagine what I care most about in the world. Which was an image of my arms wrapped around my wife and two children.
So, am I too naïve about labeling my five heart attacks as “good?” I think not. I know what I feel and know I have learned from them.