Nothing will make you rethink putting junk food into your body ever again like two sprays of nitro and a ride in the ambulance to the emergency room.
Last night during a late dinner with friends, I started feeling a sharp pain on the left side of my chest. At first, I tried to blow it off. I started stretching and moving my body around in an attempt to make the pain stop.
It got worse.
I didn’t want to ruin dinner, or over react because it was probably nothing, right?
But the sharp pain persisted, the sharp pain got worse and suddenly, a feeling of doom over took my entire body and I blurted out the words “I’m having chest pains.”
As soon as I said those words out loud, I wanted to take them back. I was being ridiculous! It was nothing!
I excused myself and went into the bathroom. As I stood in the stall, I could feel the panic set in because the pain wasn’t right, it wasn’t normal and it scared me. A fear that I don’t know I’ve ever experienced before when it comes to my health.
When I came back to the table, I was shaking and pale and asked Tony to take me to the doctors.
As we were getting in the car, the pain got worse and I asked Tony to call 911 on the way home. (We were only about 3 minutes away from home.)
He did.
They rolled up just as we had made it through the front door.
They asked my symptoms and as I told them, they put an oxygen mask on my face and took my blood pressure.
152/108
They took a reading of my heart.
“I see some abnormalities” I heard one of the medics say to the other.
“We’re going to give you a spray of something, it’s called Nitro.”
I started to shake. I was terrified.
So were my children. I could see them off to the side and they were nervous.
“I’m ok!” I shouted through my oxygen mask. “I’m going to be ok.”
But I wasn’t so sure and they knew it.
“You’re coming with us, right?” the medic asked as he started an IV.
“But what if my insurance doesn’t cover the ambulance ride?”
“Ma’am, any time you have chest pains like this, you need to get to the hospital right away. We need to take you.”
I agreed and asked them to take me to MY hospital. The one that my insurance will cover, but they advised me against that because it was too far. They wanted to take me to the nearest hospital. I put up a bit of a fight, because I don’t want to get stuck with a medical bill that I can pay for, but they insisted I go to the local hospital. They sounded pretty serious about the whole “we need to get you there in 6 minutes, not 18 minutes” thing, so I reluctantly agreed.
(Dear God, please let Kaiser pay the bill because I can’t. Thank you. Amen.)
We arrived at the emergency room and it was packed. Stretchers with sick bodies were crammed in the hallways. A ragged looking nurse took one look at me and said “you can put that one in area 9.”
That one.
“I’m just a number to these people” I thought to myself. I’m just another one of those stupid people who doesn’t take care of themselves and ends up crowding their emergency rooms with chest pains and high blood pressure and strokes.
I started to cry.
Why did I do this to my body? Why did I gain all of this weight back? Why did I stop working out on a regular basis? Why did I put all of those greasy French fries in my body? Why didn’t I think of my children? Why didn’t I think of my husband? They would be devastated if I left them at such an early age. WHY?
EKG’s were given. X-rays were taken. Blood was drawn.
Hours passed and the doctor finally came in to tell me that everything came back normal.
“So what was it?” My husband asked.
“We just don’t know. It could be her gall bladder (wtf?) or it could have been her heart, we’re just not sure. Just have her follow up with her primary doctor tomorrow.”
I felt like a giant asshole. There was nothing wrong with me and I called 911, possibly leaving my family stuck with a bill that is going to kill us.
Tony lectured me not to feel bad. He said he could tell I was in pain, he could see how pale I was, he could see my eyes didn’t “look right” and he said to never second guess my decision to call for help.
I’m going to take his advice. I was in pain, a pain that I’ve never felt before. A pain so sharp—so real, that I honestly thought “this could be a heart attack.”
Not to get all Soap Opera Dramatic on you, but this experience has changed me. I’m not quite sure how just yet, but I can tell you that from this minute forward I will be mindful of what I put into my body and not because I want to look cute in a pair of jeans, but because I don’t want to have a heart attack and die.








I'm a smoker.
I remember one time I had to have a chest x-ray because I had a cough or something that wouldn't go away. While I sat there waiting for the results to come back I realized I was absolutely petrified of what they would find and I was so pissed. So pissed at myself.
I quit smoking - THAT time for like a year or so.
*sigh* but like I said... i'm a smoker.
(Glad you are OK now!)