"You're in the early stages of a heart attack"
I wasn't expecting to hear those words at 45. Mrs RC was even more upset.
But it's OK really and I'm home again now.
Coming home on the train from an interview, I coughed and suddenly had excruciating chest pain; I couldn't breathe.
Eventually I got my chest out of spasm and breathed in and
the pain!
With shallow gasps I managed to regain my composure and after about 15 minutes could phone Mrs RC and whisper that I needed her to meet me off the train in an hour's time.
The pain! I couldn't breathe properly or stand up. She was waiting for me at the station and - no messing- got me straight into a taxi and up to A&E.
I felt a fraud: I was sure I'd just torn a rib muscle when coughing. But the big sign in A&E said:
So I did. She sent me through to A&E proper where they did an ECG. A minute later an orderly lifted the sides on the stretcher and wheeled me into a different area. A consultant was waiting there:
"Mr Cranium, you are in the early stages of a heart attack."
Another ECG machine was used and another trace taken.
"The warning factors are here, here and here" says the consultant, pointing to the traces. "And they are worse in the 2nd trace. I am sending you for emergency angioplasty in Liverpool."
Wheeled into an ambulance and ...
I got the
treatment! Blues and Twos through the rush-hour to the hospital in Liverpool.
Tubes and stuff inserted whilst in the ambulance; meanwhile Mrs RC is trying very hard not to burst into tears.
Get to Liverpool, wheeled straight into a team of 7 or 8 specialists who are ready to go and do horrid things to my insides.
I get asked very quickly some questions about the symptoms when the top nob specialist says: "Now tell me all that again, slowly, from the start."
So I did.
"I thought so, Mr Cranium. You're not having a heart attack."
They did some other tests and some ultrasound and something else and decided my heart was in spiffy condition. Except for the surplus-to-requirements hole in my lung or the infection within my pericardium. One or the other.
I asked him how he knew so quickly: "Because, Mr Cranium, I see 12 to 20 heart attacks every day. I know what they look like now."
So they send me back to the hospital I came from for blood tests and X-rays.
To cut a long story short, I'm not dead and painkillers + anti-inflammatories + taking it easy will see me right.
Phew!
To say Mrs RC is relieved is something of an understatement.
But it's OK really and I'm home again now.
Coming home on the train from an interview, I coughed and suddenly had excruciating chest pain; I couldn't breathe.
Eventually I got my chest out of spasm and breathed in and
the pain!With shallow gasps I managed to regain my composure and after about 15 minutes could phone Mrs RC and whisper that I needed her to meet me off the train in an hour's time.
The pain! I couldn't breathe properly or stand up. She was waiting for me at the station and - no messing- got me straight into a taxi and up to A&E.
I felt a fraud: I was sure I'd just torn a rib muscle when coughing. But the big sign in A&E said:
Originally posted by A&E Notice
"Mr Cranium, you are in the early stages of a heart attack."
Another ECG machine was used and another trace taken.
"The warning factors are here, here and here" says the consultant, pointing to the traces. "And they are worse in the 2nd trace. I am sending you for emergency angioplasty in Liverpool."
Wheeled into an ambulance and ...
I got the
treatment! Blues and Twos through the rush-hour to the hospital in Liverpool.Tubes and stuff inserted whilst in the ambulance; meanwhile Mrs RC is trying very hard not to burst into tears.
Get to Liverpool, wheeled straight into a team of 7 or 8 specialists who are ready to go and do horrid things to my insides.
I get asked very quickly some questions about the symptoms when the top nob specialist says: "Now tell me all that again, slowly, from the start."
So I did.
"I thought so, Mr Cranium. You're not having a heart attack."
They did some other tests and some ultrasound and something else and decided my heart was in spiffy condition. Except for the surplus-to-requirements hole in my lung or the infection within my pericardium.
One or the other.I asked him how he knew so quickly: "Because, Mr Cranium, I see 12 to 20 heart attacks every day. I know what they look like now."
So they send me back to the hospital I came from for blood tests and X-rays.
To cut a long story short, I'm not dead and painkillers + anti-inflammatories + taking it easy will see me right.
Phew!
To say Mrs RC is relieved is something of an understatement.
(Even if it does require an investment of 8 hours of hospital & ambulance time and a shedload of pain to gather the details.)
My story is sod all; it was a false positive and I feel a terrible fraud.
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