1 Year Later ….

The last 2 days have really been hitting me hard. One year ago, I suffered a STEMI heart attack. The arteries that feed my heart were 95% blocked. I survived probably one of the worse types of heart attacks you can have, they don’t call it the widowmaker for nothing.

I still remember the weeks leading up to it. How I felt. The exhaustion. The constant numbness in my left arm, leg, and hand. It would always come and go. My blood pressure cuff kept warning me of an irregular heartbeat.

The morning the heart attacks started, that has got to be the most scared I’ve ever been. Remembering getting into bed. I couldn’t get warm. I was shaking really badly. Anies borrowed me her body heat while I laid on the heating pad.

The next thing I remember is picking myself up from the living room floor. Athena, Venus, and Hades were right there when I picked myself up from the floor. I was still shaking. The impending doom feeling hit me as I got to my feet and the numbness hit immediately. I remember pacing around the apartment, trying to stay calm. I did start new antifungals so my first thought was it was just the new meds.

I was so wrong.

I laid on the couch. I couldn’t get comfortable. I returned to bed. As I stood up, the stars hit me. The room was spinning. I immediately, but slowly went down to the floor and just laid there. After the feelings passed, I went to my medicine cabinet to get Valium. Maybe this is a panic attack?

I returned to bed. And the feelings returned. The numbness. The weird feeling in my chest started to to become more prominent. It felt like I wasn’t getting enough air. At this point I was sweating like crazy. I fell asleep for an hour, just just be woke up by intensifying tightness in my chest and it being really hard to breathe. I grabbed my reacue inhaler and used that thinking maybe this was an asthma attack.

At this point I woke Aggie up. Told her what was going on. She offered to to take me to the ER, but I told her they wouldn’t take me seriously as they have always done in the past. It was my own stupidity I didn’t go in, but this is how things have been for me the past few years.

By 6am, I’ve probably had 5 heart attacks. But by the time came to go to work, I couldn’t breathe. I struggled to make it to work. To my desk. I was terrified to call Aggie to tell her that something was wrong.

For almost 24 hours, I was silently terrified. Terrified to know what was coming. I felt it for weeks building. I kept quiet. Regressed into my “shell”.

The sheer terror I experienced that night, throughout the day. Up until the ER. The anxiety. The fear. Has forever changed me.

The mental prison I was living in for the past 2 years. Not been seen for who I am. What this was. To be called crazy. By my own sister, and father. had my mother been alive to witness all this, things would’ve played out differently. Instead, I was disowned by almost my entire family. The only 3 family members who have never turned me away, has been my Godmother Peg, my uncle Don who I always looked up to, and my mother’s brother Gary. The lies and narrative my toxic father laid out to destroy the fact that he couldn’t control me any longer.

My father’s willful abuse, both mental and physical shaped me into someone who I am today. it taught me who to not be. Along with my mother’s wisdom, unwavering strength, and love, shaped my bottomless pit of empathy and patience. She taught me to accept people for their faults. How to understand the true actions and intentions of those who only wanted to take. Never give back. Ultimately, she taught me to be selfless. To always help. Always be there for those who needed it. To utilize my passion for always do the right thing, no matter the cost.

During the heart attacks, I flashed back to those times she would always talk to me. Attempt to teach me life lessons that to me, were and still are to this day, invaluable. The most important thing she impressed upon me, was to know when to walk away from people who create scenarios that only benefit them, but takes something from me. To say nothing. To do nothing when I don’t know what to do. To anyone who willingly chose to to harm me any way, to not stoop to their level, simply smile, and walk away. During my mother’s final weeks we would sit in the garage, drink coffee, and talk. We both didn’t have to say much to each other. She was proud of who I became after surviving the cyclical abuse of my father, a manipulative ex-wife who tried to take everything from me. That I broke the cycle, and protected the two people who I cherished the most.

My children.

She did warn me however, and told me, that there could potentially be a time when, The family and people who love me, and those that I love and cherish the most, could turn on me at any second. I choice I wasn’t making, but had to understand the consequences of simply just walking away. Taking the high road.

She warned me both of my father and sisters actions and behaviors throughout the years became worse. That they both would eventually betray me for their own personal gain. That she’s seen them both become more rotten. And that I would just simply walk away. Leaving them to make the choice for me. Even though they would never understand it was the direct actions being the cause of “why” I walked away. They would have to be the ones who would have to carry this on their shoulders for the rest of their lives.

She wasn’t wrong. Everything she warned me about, happened. I did exactly as she told me. I walked away due to their choices.

As the 5th heart attack hit at work, I left. I called Aggie to tell her that I can only drive home. I didn’t have enough in me to get myself to a hospital. As I laid on the couch counting down the seconds until she came home, I thought of my mother, and my 2 children. As our “Beebs” sat around me comforting me (Venus/Athena/Hades). I started to call people that could potentially get me to the hospital. But unfortunately, I was unable to reach anyone.

As I rested on the couch, I began to think about each doctor who failed to do their job. Time and time again. There were only a few who stood by me. No matter what. But the others who ignored the obvious signs, chose not to help. Those who lacked empathy, or even the ability to think. All the warning signs were there. Again, this was during the time where we lived in an apartment, that was slowly killing me. Without me knowing.

When Aggie got home, I was relieved. But one thing I didn’t expect, was feeling my mother’s presence. Since my mother’s death in 2012, I’ve always felt this cold yet calming sensation. That’s how I know she is with me.

The next few hours at the hospital only contributed to the ever growing PTSD I’ve had to experience since I became extremely ill late 2017. As I sat in the room with my wife, and I explained to the idiotic PA they sent in after 45 minutes of waiting. I told her that it’s either another septic episode, another clot, or possibly a heart attack.

The next thing she said has been burned into my memory “Well what labs should I run on you then?”

I remember turning my head to my wife, she gave me the look, and I just blasted the PA. “Shouldn’t you know what labs to run?” I then told her all the labs to run with the warning of my veins, and that I had a portocath they needed to utilize to draw labs.

Another hour went by as several nurses tried to get IV’s in me. My anxiety at this point is through the roof. “I’m going going to die due to the ignorance of people” rang through my head.

As they were able to draw some blood, they were able to get just enough to run the labs I had asked for. As they left, the EKG machine came in. It was at that moment, the 6, and 7th heart attacks hit. At this point I was laboring to breathe. Shaking uncontrollably. During the 7th attack, the EKG caught the “tombstone” of a STEMI.

The report didn’t even finish printing and the nurse ripped the paper off and ran out of the room. I knew I was in trouble. I knew exactly what was coming. I didn’t tell Aggie because I didn’t want to frighten her.

30 seconds later, the loudspeaker called the sepsis alert, cardiac alert for my room. Within 20 seconds they moved me to room 1 at Swedish. The room you go to die in.

As I turned the corner, there were at least 12 people in the room. All barking instructions at me. Which only drove me into a panic attack. I could only catch glimpses of Aggie as she wasn’t allowed to be in the room. Then Dr Chauhans assistant came in and started screaming at everyone (not me).

“This patient told you what was wrong. And you’ve waited way too long. I’m taking over from here on out”. He turned to me and explained that I was going to cathlab. I was indeed having heart attacks, there were clots in my body, and I was severely septic.

He reassured me that I was in good hands. I lost it. It took a heart attack to get them to listen to me. As they pushed me out of room I texted Aggie what was going on, and that I loved her. I was at cathlab within 2 minutes. In surgery within 3 minutes after the entire staff moved me to the OR table.

I started crying. I was so terrified. None of this was in my control any longer.

A year later, I am still dealing with the fallout from everything. I’m in extreme debt not by choice. I just hope this is over soon. This is absolutely no way to live.

I owe everything to Aggie and what she’s done for me. I cannot stress that enough. I just don’t want to have her see me suffer anymore.

I’m truly thankful to her, Don, Peg and Gary. My two beautiful children, and my 3 fur babies. Without them, I wouldn’t be here today, posting this.

The attorney who helped us get out of the lease sent me a notification, that they would finally go after Parc. Without hesitation, I signed all the paperwork. I have to give them my trust that they will do their best to make this right.

I spoke with the lead attorney, and she said they will do everything they can. They can’t take this to trial, however, they would transfer me to an attorney willing to see this through if a trial is necessary.

Sorry if this blog post has been all over the place. The past 2 days have been extremely hard emotionally for me. The week prior, even more problems happened which are extremely embarrassing to talk about, and I won’t go into detail about it.

I just hope this health rollercoaster is over with soon, and I can just focus on living what life I have left, as happy as I can be. I promise everyone that I will keep fighting this. I will not give up. Which leads me to the final thing my mother taught me.

Never give up on yourself, even though people give up on you. I love each and everyone of you that has followed along this “journey”. Who’ve helped me by just making sure I’m ok, helping me financially survive all this. And those who never gave up on me.

I’m indebted to so many. I owe you all that much.

Love John