One of my family physicians once bragged that I was her only patient that took no medication. I thought I was doing well even after beginning to take pills for arthritis until I was advised by my health nurse to call 911 for possible heart symptoms. It wasn’t supposed to happen to me. I was always the one with the great vital signs so what was I doing on the gurney being lifted into the ambulance and being given aspirin to chew and nitroglycerin to take just in case. Visions of my insides blowing up after taking a medication that sounded like an explosive compound went through my head.

I lay exposed to the elements as the medics carried me down my front steps,the neighbors peering out from behind their blinds. I felt vulnerable. My thoughts were filled with my heart stopping before I could reach the hospital but I used humor to deflect my stress. I told the medics who were monitoring me it would all become a standup comedy routine when it was all over.

Once inside the hospital room I was asked if I wanted my daughter to take my rings home for safekeeping. For the first time in years I felt naked without my wedding band on my ring finger. Instantly I quipped, “Wow, maybe someone will hit on me now. I haven’t had a date since my husband died.” But all the males surrounding me were not into a grandma who might be having a heart attack.

There wasn’t much time to worry or sleep with the rush of specialists taking vital signs, drawing blood or checking my heart with the EKG apparatus throughout the night.

And since I was on the cardiac ward I had to order food from the cardiac menu. There was no coffee or chocolate, no real salt and for some reason I was even refused broccoli.
The senior George Bush would have done well on this ward with his aversion to that vegetable.

Since I had been given morphine and other exotic potions I was not allowed to get up without someone monitoring me. Living alone didn’t prepare me for such attention, believe me. Suddenly my heart was not the focus anymore and I was being pushed down the hall for a CT scan of my lungs. Soon the attending physician came by and announced, “Your vital signs are stable and I am letting you go home with follow-up by your own doctor.”

The next day I drove to my clinic and made sure I didn’t rush into the office. The previous visit I had literally run all the way in so I wouldn’t be late and ended up with a blood pressure reading that was on the high end. I was cautioned to lower my salt intake. It didn’t take me long after I got home to get out my blood pressure apparatus after resting for a while and take my own blood pressure to prove that I could achieve a normal reading.

All this happened after attending a memorial service for an old friend and visiting another friend in a care center. The shock of facing my own mortality took a long night’s sleep to recover from. Suddenly I felt really fortunate that I had come through this scare unscathed and that I could recover from a hangover caused by exotic medications that I had never had in my system before. And my daughter’s fellow rewarded me with a box of chocolate truffles as they both escorted me out to breakfast where there was no cardiac menu. Life is almost back to normal again.

Georgie Bright Kunkel is a freelance writer who can be reached at gnkunkel@comcast.net or 206-935-8663