***HEART ATTACK***

Hindsight is 20/20, so they say.  Looking back today, I see what should have been the obvious signs of something significant.  I chose to ignore them. I am only sixty-one, not old by today's standards. I am a woman. We have no insurance. Excuses.

Is this the beginning of the end of my life? Or just a beginning? Those feelings of wanting to cram as much living as possible into my days, the feeling of foreboding that I wrote about previously....those are not lost on me now.

On Friday I tried to walk the track at the Y and visit with friends there. I was tired, so I went home. Later we went to visit friends, had some wine, played Wii games.  I usually beg to stay longer, but this Friday I was just so tired. I blamed it on the virus I had a few weeks before.

On Saturday, my chest felt as though a large, hot hand was splayed on it. I had my nails done (an aside here...the nurse took almost a half hour to remove my polish. Excellent manicure, Sue!). I was too tired to shop. I thought I had pneumonia. I took a nap like I had been doing most days.

On Sunday I went to church, rubbing my still-sore chest. Friends and Pastor told me to go to the doctor, but I had been called in to work for a colleague. I worked a shift, only four hours, came home and fell asleep. I attributed the pain in my right jaw to a bad tooth. The pain in my left arm was because I "slept wrong".

On Monday we needed dog food. I got in the car, drove to the bay and sat, too tired to think about the store. I went home, changed into my black uniform, put on a pretty necklace (I'll be looking for bigger ones now to hide the scar.) and went to work. Came home, fell asleep.

On Tuesday Hubby was frantically telling me that either I go to the hospital NOW or he will drag me. Clutching my chest (the pain had returned, though not as much), we headed for St. Vincent Medical Center.

Hubby left me at the door, turning to get the parking valet's attention. I went to the triage window....I think I'm having a heart attack, I told the nurse. By the end of my sentence, I was admitted.

The blood enzymes showed that they were elevated. A catheterization was scheduled for the next day. I sent Hubby to make necessary calls. It took no time for sons and dear friend to be at my side.

During the night I woke in pain. I called the nurse. Seconds later I had another EKG and another heart "event".

On Wednesday, I was the first in for the catheterization. It didn't go well. They left the catheter, with balloon, in place. No stent. Too much damage, they said. "Open heart surgery tomorrow" was all I heard.

Family and friends posted on Facebook. Hundreds of people put me on prayer chains. I was scared. Too fast, too fast.

Then came blessed sleep.

I believe that God can heal instantly. I also believe that God gives gifts of healing. I prayed for God to move the hands of the surgical team.

Then a remarkable thing happened. A calm like I have never known came over me. I was awake when they came for me. I knew when they lifted me. I saw the lights of the hallway, the cold stainless of the operating room. Then ...nothing.

I did not awake in great pain, save my back, which is chronic. I did not feel the breathing tubes come out. I knew my husband, my sons, my friend.  I AM ALIVE!!

In the space of five days, I had had three heart events, a catheterization and a quadruple bypass. It could happen to you.

I AM ALIVE!! Thank you, God, I am alive!

I am home now. The doctors and nurses say I'm doing well. The physical therapist and occupational therapist were here once and see no need to come back. I am recuperating in the top ten per cent, I am told.

The incision, about seventeen centimeters, is ugly but healing. The leg from which the vein was harvested is tender but healing. I tire easily, but I am stronger every hour. My husband, my sons and their families, my friends and my church have held me up when I could have fallen. God has chosen for me to live. I have chosen to make Him proud of me.

There are no guarantees of how many years I have left, but do any of us know?

I have chosen to live as full a life as I can. I will have as many new experiences as I can handle. I will make a friend of everyone I touch (even the nurse who woke me at three a.m. the second day after surgery to weigh me, although that might take some doing). I will change your life by telling you what signs to look for.

So is it the beginning of the end of my life? Or a new beginning? Of all the changes that I've made, this is the biggest. I can no longer look at my life as starting over when Mom died. Now it is starting again because I LIVE.

Praise God....I LIVE.