This morning I woke up ready to take off the oxygen. Just ready.

Healing was looking good on Sunday. The nurses and techs were encouraging me to move about the house, to do a few things, nothing extravagent but easy chores.  Christmas still needed to be put away. Ed and Julia had brought up my 4 christmas boxes and I had taken down a little bit a few days before.  I needed to straighten the boxes, put away garland and some of the lights, and then tackle the tree.

And I felt ready.

These sick days have found a rhythm of nurse and PT visits and meals and phone calls and email.  After lunch and a nap, I was ready to tackle christmas. I was puttering when a pain crept up in my chest. It bloomed on the right side of my chest and radiated into my jaw. It was not intense but present and different from anything I had felt before.  I debated whether to call the nursing line, remembering vividly the mistakes of not calling that David made.

And I called.

I relayed my information but the nurse was not too concerned.  She said she would push up my afternoon visit but to otherwise just continue as I was.  Then, 20 minutes or so (my time awareness of the next few hours fractured. It was 20 minutes, it was 2 hours.  I wasn’t 2 hours but it might have been much longer than 30 minutes). Then, the pain happened again. More intense this time, longer, and did not immediately fade.  It retreated very gradually, especially in my jaw.

I called again, still debating whether the call was necessary. (and if you are reading this, please, please, call or go to the ER or do something. I need to train myself to stop the wondering!)

I sat down on the couch and asked Julia to get the door when help arrived.  The med tech took vitals and then brought me into my bedroom for an ekg. And then, much quicker than I expected my room was full of firefighters and an ambulance crew determined to take to a hospital.

It was startling. It was all happening around me and I had no choice but to abandon any control. I asked about putting on chothes—I was in pj bottoms and a tee shirt with slippers on my feet. They said, no.

The scene, the people, the energy, the calm overlaying the fear gave me the feeling of dejavu. But it wasn’t dejavu. Last time, I was standing outside our tiny bathroom in Madison, watching  and waiting for paramedics and firefighters to get a colapsed David out of the bathroom, into an ambulance and to the UW ER. Time collapsed. I was there, I was here. In a corner of my mind, I noted that it was a heck of a lot easier to get me out of the bedroom and down the four steps of my front porch and into the ambulance than it was to get David out of the tiny bathroom, down a flight of winding stairs and through a narrow front door.

Then, I worried Julia.  I could not leave her home alone.  I could not leave without telling Ed and Cheshire what was happening.  Ed had been gone for the afternoon and was slowly making his way home. I could not get him on the phone.  I called Cheshire and told her what was going on.  I think I sounded calm. My intention was calm. I texted what I knew to both Ed and Cheshire, making sure they were connected easily.  Especially about Julia.  The Med Tech told me he would stay with Julia until Ed got home.

And then, we were off. Sirens screeching, Vehicle shaking as it rushed on and off roads and maybe the highway.  Another ekg in the ambulance and the taking of vitals.  At the ER, the flurry continued. I was put in a gurney in the hall, more vitals, another ekg, iv lines started, blood drawn, then some echo and an x-ray. In between I kept texting, needing to make sure Julia was save and not freaking out.

After the flurry came the calm. And the waiting.  Waiting for resuts. Once the all clear was called—it was a cardiac related incident, not a heart attack. Advice to do a PCP heart check up when all this is over to figure out of there is any blockage—I had to wait for an ambulance to take me home.  (Ed couldn’t come to get me because I was still admitted to the Home Hospital program, sort of on loan to Brigham.) I got home at 4 am.

The waiting was excruciating.  In the hall by a nurses station, light, noise and the occasional rushing around.  I was tired, felt every once of energy drain out of me, felt all the progress that I had made healing empty out of me and I grew very grumpy.  I could not convince anyone to let me get a ride home and hanging out in the ER was so very bad for me.

When I finally got home by ambulance but minus the sirens. Thinking about my street full of neighbors, I was glad we didn’t have to wake them up to see my arrival home. I went to bed and slept in great gulps of time, oblivious to phone ringing, alarm going off and doorbells.

By Tuesday morning, I was beginning to gather some strength, although when the PA told me they were thinking of discharging me today, I was concerned.  I was back on oxygen and very weak. And Julia had a pretty bad melt down on Tuesday night. Almost predictable but I had hoped we could avoid it. There was screaming and threats for hours and she was still angry when she left for Bay Cove on Tuesday morning. By the time she got home, the anger had subsided and she was apologetic  

This morning, I am closer to myself, tired after a rousing morning of new PT exercises, a nebulizer session and breakfast.  I am hoping for a nap right after my nurse visit.  Still somewhat weak, I can imagine taking over my own care with help, of course, but independence is looking very good and I have no fear of loosing the medical care of the last week. I must be getting better.