From the wife of a heart attack survivor,
I have to say, my husband was in denial all week about having
chest pains that could be his heart. He was very stubborn about it, but in retrospect, he was afraid. It's okay to be afraid.
That's what this website and the network is about. It's okay to have feelings and emotions. Things happen in life and we have
reactions. Some things bring us happiness, some things bring us sorrow, some things bring us fear, but as long as we recognize
our feelings, identify what we're feeling, process the feeling or emotion and then when we've had time with it - enought time
that is, we just let it go.
It's those bottled up, buried, ignored, stuffed, denied emotions
& feelings that cause things like "heart attacks."
So, for a whole week he worried, anguished, thought about his impending death and never told
me he was afraid. He kept telling me how bad he felt physically though. That was great.
"Oh honey.... I am really feeling bad. I have this chest pain like I can't quite get my breath.
I think it's my asthma, but it's really bothering me."
Just enough for me to worry as well. So the two of us, we're supposed to be best friends,
companions, there for each other in times of need, and we're separately worrying about whether he's having chest pain from
a heart attack or his asthma. He won't go to the doctor. I'm getting really angry about his denial and stubborness.
Why do men do that?
So my husband waits until the weekend. This whole thing started on Monday, but he waits until
we have a house full of kids and our granddaughter, a toddler, to wake me up at 2 a.m. to say let's go to the hospital. "It's
really bad." he says.
I am so annoyed with him and so crazed at this announcement, this pig-headed admittance, that
I jump out of bed, almost like... it's time to go to the hospital to have the baby... kind of move... and he says, "I think
you need to call an ambulance."
Oh great! I'm thinking to myself as I've already woken up the baby, the kids are all upset,
their friends staying the night are upset, the two kids from next door that I'm babysitting for the night while their mother
goes out clubbing for the first time in years as a single mother begin dialing their cell phone to find mom.... it's chaos.
I'm thinking he's having a heart attack, I've called 911, ordered the ambulance and I'm on autopilot.
I've called my son-in-law who is home sleeping about a dozen times to come get the baby and
he won't wake up. I call my daughter at the hospital, she's working, but she says, "What do you need?" I tell her to go wake
up her husband and get him over to the house, I'm going to follow the ambulance.
I pray in the car. The ambulance is driving so fast I lose sight of it. I'm praying, "Dear
God, tell me. Let me know how bad this is going to be. Please God, let me know."
Suddenly this overwhelming feelings of security, peace of mind and relaxation comes over me.
He heard me. I have my answer. "At least one man in my life doesn't wait forever to tell me what's going on," I think to myself.
My daughter has done everything I asked of her and made it back to the hospital before I did.
She's in the emergency room, holding my husband's hand. She's standing way up towards his head because his bottom half is
exposed; totally exposed.