An elusive heart attack
I have written about my first four heart attacks. The fifth one, this past Valentine’s Day, was different, very different from the first four. There was a sense of ambiguity about it. I called it, “elusive.”
The first one, in 1997, six months after my quadruple bypass, caught me by surprise. That quadruple bypass I mistakenly thought would shield me from future heart events. I had viewed that procedure as a “roto rooter” tunneling job as if a cardiologist had cleared my arteries of debris just as a plumber unplugs clogged drainpipes.
Heart attack symptoms may differ from person to person. But it is likely individuals will experience similar symptoms prior to each heart attack. That certainly had been so in my first four instances. They started with great discomfort in my left arm followed by increasing chest and back pain.
Health care professionals have urged me to get medical attention whenever there is any doubt about what I’m experiencing. Of course, they’re right. There is no need to take any chances when one’s life could be in jeopardy. Yet my fast-acting action has resulted in false alarm runs to hospitals’ emergency rooms.
Once in the Catskills I over-ate at one of my two sons-in-law’s barbecues. Soon the Margaretville town ambulance sped me to its local hospital with my two daughters and wife driving behind us. When we returned from this false alarm episode a few hours later, my sons in-law had finished off the steaks.
On a business trip to Australia we landed in Los Angeles to change planes. I reported an upset stomach to the flight attendant while injudiciously referencing my left arm heart history. Within minutes against my protest I was wheeled away in a strapped gurney to a local hospital. I flew to Australia the following morning.
During the New York Jets season opening football game on 8/31/97 I had gorged myself as if it were Super Bowl Sunday. At the Norwalk Hospital’s emergency room, the doctor said to me, “It’s dietary indiscretion.”
My knowledge base about heart disease is likely to be greater than most layfolk. I subscribe to a ton of periodicals on heart health and do everything to keep up-to-date on living a healthy life. But occasionally I get ahead of myself believing I know more than I do. Such was the case the evening of Valentine’s Day and my elusive attack.
It was bitterly cold. Extreme hot or cold weather affects individuals with coronary heart disease more so than the average person. I know that from reading and from personal experiences. On Feb. 14 I felt so cold at my daughter’s kitchen table that I kept my winter coat on. As we stepped outside to go home, I immediately felt discomfort in my left arm.
For the next few hours, the discomfort continued, not at all with the high intensity during past heart attacks. And there was no chest or back pain. I waited a few hours before calling my cardiologist and primary physician. From what I told them they did not think it was heart related. I agreed with them. Yet both suggested I go the emergency room.
In a medical crisis one should always call 911. One should never drive oneself or be driven to an emergency room. It may mean the difference between life and death. Yet I believed my discomfort would pass and thought of those false alarm trips. My wife drove me to Norwalk Hospital.
When the results of my first blood test came back the enzyme reading was up. I knew immediately it was indeed a heart attack. It was the mildest one so far, fortunately.
By the time I was discharged six days later I had gone through two procedures. One of them had been scheduled previously, not directly associated with the heart attack. I considered myself as having had a good twofer week.
Alexander Pope, the English poet, once wrote, “A little learning is a dangerous thing.” Consequently, we could mistakenly believe, as I did, that we know more than we do. I now know that anytime my left arm flairs up I will act quickly ... even if it means being escorted off a plane, placed on a gurney and wheeled off to an emergency room.
Health care professionals have urged me to get medical attention whenever there is any doubt about what I’m experiencing. Of course, they’re right. There is no need to take any chances when one’s life could be in jeopardy. Yet my fast-acting action has resulted in false alarm runs to hospitals’ emergency rooms.