From Suicide To A Widow Maker Heart Attack

They say when it rains, it pours. That has definitely been our experience this year. Or at least since February 10th, the day of my son’s suicide. I was going to say that we were just starting to get back to normal when this happened. But that wouldn’t be true. We were not back to normal. Either way, life threw us another curveball. My husband had a heart attack.

Just A Normal Sunday Morning

It was a Sunday morning. Brian woke up about 3 am and soon after, started to experience back pain. I was still sleeping blissfully until I heard him cry out about 5 am. I got up to go check on him. I walked around the whole house. I looked outside in the front and back. Finally, I realized he was in the bathroom, right upstairs where I had started my search.

I asked through the door “are you ok?”

He said no.

I immediately went in and saw that he was taking a bath. He explained that he had back pain and was hoping the bath would help his back muscles loosen. It didn’t.

After the bath, we went downstairs. I tried rubbing his shoulders. We tried a hot compress and then a cold one. He took Aleve and promptly threw it up. I wasn’t sure what to think but we both assumed that the back pain would eventually start to ease up.

But it wasn’t. He paced. He sat. He stood. The pain was intense and unrelenting.

What Do I Do?

I didn’t know what to do. I asked if he wanted me to take him to the doctor. He was hoping it would pass on its own. This would be a good time to mention that Brian hates doctors and as he says, it takes an act of congress to get him there.

As I was internally debating what to do, our son, Antwan, came down and in his words, told me “sternly” that he should go to the doctor. He told me that it was better to be safe than sorry. And, yes, he greatly enjoys reminding us of how he was right.

Urgent care would be open in an hour. I told him that I thought we should go. I remember not knowing if he would cooperate. But as I listened to him make sounds that I had never heard him make, I knew we needed to go. I went upstairs and got ready. Last time that I was in a medical situation, I was stuck standing in my yard in a tank top with no bra, tie-dye pants and rain boots with chickens on them. This time I was going to look civilized. The stupid things that you think about when in situations, huh?

When I came down and saw him lying on the living room floor, I knew we were making the right call to go. He knew that too.

Off To Urgent Care

We got there a few minutes before they opened. I vultured the door while he went around the corner and threw up.

I wrote “extreme back pain” on the form and watched everyone else get taken first because I guess back pain wasn’t high on the triage list. It was frustrating because he was in pain. I went up to ask them how long and made it more clear that extreme really means extreme.. About 45 minutes after they opened, they finally took him back.

They wouldn’t let me come back as a COVID precaution and she said that the physician would make the call if I could come back. I wanted to be with him but understood. We figured that they probably did that they would give him a shot for pain and some good meds. So really, I was not technically necessary.

It Wasn’t Just Back Pain

After just a few minutes, the nurse came out and with an odd expression, said I should come on back. She patted me on the shoulder as I walked in. I didn’t have too much time to process that foreshadowy moment before I entered the room to see my husband laying down with ekg stickers all over his chest.

He was cheerful and joking around. This was for my benefit so I wouldn’t be too freaked out. But as the physician’s assistant told he was having some sort of heart condition, I could see by her expression that it was completely appropriate for me to be freaked out.

.She said that they were calling an ambulance.

Well, crap.

A Heart Condition

Everything felt surreal. I didn’t know how process the situation. I took a picture of the ekg readings as if I actually understood it. I flashed on my dad’s death and wondered if Brian’s heart was also going to suddenly stop. I closely observed everything she said to the paramedics so I could gauge the seriousness of the situation. I kissed Brian’s forehead and followed as they wheeled him out. Sidebar: Kissing the forehead has become a defiant thing for me now because they didn’t let me kiss William’s forehead when they wheeled him out of our house that horrible day. (Moving On After A Suicide And Dealing With The Trauma)

And, yes, I was terrified that I was kissing Brian goodbye too.

I headed towards the hospital. I started calling all of the people. It was about the third call when the emotions really started to hit me. I remember saying “I can’t lose him too!” My sympathetic friend said ” I know” because she couldn’t tell me that it would be fine. She didn’t know.

At The Hospital

I got to the hospital, the paramedic said he was doing ok. I anxiously waited to be let upstairs to see him. Finally, I went up and saw him in good spirits. He said that he was doing fine and they were just doing preventative measures. I guess we thought that was true at the time. I was so relieved and was letting the kids know the good news.

Then Dr. Lamba, the cardiologist came in. He looked at the ekg info and said..

“He’s having a heart attack. Let’s go. To the lab.”

He then learned that the lab was occupied so we had to wait a few minutes but the second it was available, he rushed him down.

I remember that the person pushing his bed paused to look for the nurse who I guess was supposed to transport him.

Dr. Lamba said “Let’s go! Let’s go!”

The urgency in his tone was not lost on me. And it increased as we went down the hallway.

Wishing The Cardiologist Luck

When we got to the door of the lab, he gestured towards the waiting room and said “Wish me luck.”

What does that mean??

In another surreal moment, my sister (who came straight over from almost an hour away when I called her) and I said “good luck.” Then we went to the waiting room.

As we sat there, that statement stayed in my mind. Wish me luck? Was my husband going to die? Is it going to be lucky if he doesn’t?

After what felt like forever, Dr Lamba came out and as soon as he saw us, he gave a thumbs up.

That right there is now in the top five favorite sights I have ever seen in my life.

A Widowmaker

Dr. Lamba came over and hugged me and said it went great. It wasn’t without complications. They were having trouble getting the cathadar in or through the blockage and they were moments away from open heart surgery. Brian later told me that he heard these words, despite his extremely sedated state, “Mr. Parker, you’re going to need open heart surgery.” and it that was the moment that the gravity of the situation hit him. But then they were successful and got two stents in.

He showed me scary xrays which I still only kind of understand.

But what I do understand is that he is lucky to be alive. He had a widowmaker heart attack. There was only a 12% chance of survival and he was 90% blocked.

And we thought it was a back ache.