Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Heartversary #16 – Part 1

Of all the anniversaries that I recognize, good or bad, this one is always the hardest for me to deal with, and of course it is a bad one, of which I had many. But on this date, sixteen years ago, my mortality was being recognized, and I was only 42 years of age. Now before I get to the meat of this post, I’m going to put upfront, the lesson of this post, in case anyone jumps off at any time later on in the post. And this is very important.

To be clear, if you are exhibiting any of these symptoms, it does not mean that you are having a cardiac event, such as a heart attack, but it is important enough to let a doctor figure out if you are or are not. Call 911 immediately, and let the doctor decide what is happening. So here are the most common symptoms:

  • any kind of discomfort, pain, or tightness in the chest, especially the left side
  • extreme pain in the arm (again the left side), back, or neck
  • excessive sweating, cold sweats
  • shortness of breath
  • nausea, dizziness, vomiting
  • severe heartburn, indigestion

For women, there are a couple of extra things that women may experience as a sign of a cardiac event, stomach pains and fatigue.

Bottom line, if you are experiencing any of these symptoms, it does not mean you are having a cardiac event for certain, but you need a doctor to determine if you are or not. And timing could not be any more critical, with any delay, potentially being lethal. I should know. Not just in my case, but with at least four other long term Hodgkin’s survivors who reached out, with symptoms similar to what I had experienced back in 2008, I convinced them to get help, and it saved their lives as well.

So on April 15th, when I saw my family doctor, complaining of a chest tightness that I had been experiencing for several weeks, a temporary symptom that lasted less than a minute, with an escalating heartbeat up to 150 within that same minute, my doctor had a hunch. And based on my health history of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and the treatments I received, she ordered a nuclear stress test to be completed, the next day in fact. Take note, if she had asked me to get that test done on my own, it likely would have taken months to get the appointment. She got me in the next day. This post might otherwise have not gotten written.

With that, here is how April 16th, 2008 went for me. I arrived at the medical building in my sweatpants and t-shirt, sneakers, a bottle of water, and definitely hungry as I was told to fast the night before. I was also told to avoid caffeine, not an issue as I do not drink coffee.

I was escorted back to a lab-type area, where an IV was put into my arm. A radioactive isotope would be injected for the purposes of seeing the blood flow to my heart with a special x-ray type of machine, referred to as a “gamma camera” to complete the study. Once injected, I was escorted back to the machine, and a series of photos were taken. This would be the “at rest” or “no stress” photos of my heart.

After the photos were done, I was taken back to another room, an exercise type room, obviously because it had a treadmill in it. I laid down on an exam table, while a dozen leads (for the EKG that would be followed) were attached to my chest. Then it was up on the treadmill.

I must admit, while I was not looking forward to the symptom that I knew was going to happen to me, and no doubt would happen this time, as all three techs in the lab were female, and I could feel a bit of machismo that I needed to “man up” and do well on this test, not look like a wimp.

Then the test was explained to me. The treadmill would increase every three minutes as well as the incline. I do not recall how long the test was supposed to take, nor did it matter. In less than four minutes, the test had been stopped, clearly I had not gone as far as was supposed to. I was asked to sit down on the exam table and rest. While I was indeed having the symptoms I was always experiencing, it did not seem that they were concerned about those, but rather they spotted something on my EKG. Something was happening.

(it needs to be noted – later on, years later, this condition, an inverted T-wave would frequently get extra attention, often times, my advocating that it need not be of concern according to my normal cardiologist).

I was escorted back to the first lab, where another dose of the isotope was injected, and then back to the x-ray machine. Once that was done, it was back to the reception room, to wait for the results.

Comedian Bill Engvall has a trademark bit where he makes jokes about the obvious, with “here’s your sign.” Well, once seated, I saw a pattern develop, people who came in for their appointments after my arrival, leaving the office before me. They were getting their results before mine. Here was my sign, something was wrong. And then a nurse came out with a folder in her hand, “if you would step this way,” she led me to an exam room. She told me the cardiologist would be in to see me shortly. A cardiologist? What? If you read my book, “Paul’s Heart – Life As A Dad And A 35-Year Cancer Survivor,” I had a similar experience when I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s. Why was I seeing a cardiologist?

(the actual report from my nuclear stress test)

Dr. S walked into the exam room, a young and pleasant demeanor. “Mr. Edelman, I’m Dr. S (I am not using the full name intentionally). I’ve looked over your nuclear stress test, and well, I don’t usually say this, but I’m 100% certain that you have a blockage somewhere.” He then proceeded to show me the images that were taken before and after, and I did not need a medical degree to see the color that was my blood flowing through my heart before the exercise, and the lack of color, a.k.a. no blood, going through my heart once the test was interrupted. “The good news is, you are right here. I want you to go next door, to the cath lab, they are waiting for you. We will pop a couple of stents in you, and you will be good as new within a week.” A “cath” is a procedure, less invasive than open heart surgery, where they go up a vein or artery in your leg, in this case, to place a stent where they suspect a blockage. Sounds easy enough. Right.

Again, referring back to my book, and this issue I have with denial and bargaining (referring to Kubler Ross’s stages of grief). This was no different.

“Ok Doc. I understand. But look, here’s the thing. I have a wedding that I am DJing this Saturday that I need to do. So, let’s do this Monday morning. I promise I’ll be here.”

“Mr. Edelman, I don’t think you do understand (cue the dramatic music, duh duh duh). You have a blockage that could quite possibly cause a heart attack at any moment. Your heart is not getting the blood it needs.”

Ok. He really had my attention. That did not deter me. “Ok, but here’s the thing, I need to go home to explain to my family, especially my daughters what is going to be happening. I know you have me scheduled tomorrow morning. Can I just come in first thing? I just want to go home and get some things taken care of that need to be, before I am laid up.”

Dr. S agreed to it. “Fine, but just relax tonight. Nothing strenuous.”

“No worries Doc. I will. I just plan on mowing my yard which is very relaxing for me.” He looked at me like he wanted to give himself a facepalm in disbelief. “No. Are you an idiot? I said relax, that means nothing. Sit. Lay down. Do NOTHING!”

The message was finally received loud and clear. And I went home to explain what was just discovered, and what the plan would be. I had dinner, then went to bed after putting my daughters to bed. I did nothing strenuous. I had a big day the next morning.

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