Sacred Heart Attack — Chapter 3: “Don’t Worry”

This is the third chapter in my journal from my heart attack in Montreal that I suffered on Wednesday January 9, 2013. The clot aspiration and angioplasty procedure to unblock my anterior pulmonary artery seems to have been successful and I’ve been moved into the Cardiac Care Unit (CCU) of Sacred Heart Hospital in Montreal. This is where we pick up my story.

“Throughout the night there were regular visits by nurses and orderlies to check my vital signs, sample my blood and make sure the I-V’s were working. Quite early in the morning on Thursday, I was greeted by a young, petite Chinese-French-Canadian woman in a crisp white jacket. She introduced herself as one of the Resident Cardiologists who would be overseeing my care. She asked me how I felt, listened to me breathe, listened to my heart beat and looked at the right side of my neck. She liked to use the word, “Perfect.” In fact, I think that was one of the favorite words of all of the doctors. So, everything was looking, eh, perfect.

She said that there were questions about my insurance and how payment might come. I’m thinking, yeah, I’m way out of network at this point! She said that hopefully they would hear from my insurance company about care and next steps. I felt vulnerable and weak. Then, she said, ‘But don’t worry, we’re going to take care of you, regardless.’

It was as if her voice and words were the voice and words of Jesus. I felt loved. I said, ‘Thank you. Thank you.’ She smiled and left my room. I went back to sleep.

During a heart attack like mine, the blood begins to back up in the vessels coming from my lungs. The extra pressure forces liquid out of my blood and into the air sacs of my lungs. If the process wasn’t stopped, I could’ve drowned in my own body fluids. So, one of the residual effects of the blockage of my artery was that there was still extra fluid in my lungs. Meds that I’m taking are helping to move that extra fluid out through urination. In the meantime, there’s a sign on the window of my room saying that my fluids are being limited. When most patients in CCU received a Big-Gulp-sized cup of iced water to start the day, I got the 8 ozs. version. Even though I had a saline drip in one of my I-V’s, I spent the next couple of days being thirsty.

So, throughout Thursday, it was BP, pulse, a paper ‘thermometer’ to check my body temperature, random EKG’s, multiple blood samples (the nurses had a port in my right arm reserved for snapping on test tubes), and the listening to and looking at my body. And most commonly followed by, from my otherwise French-speaking friends, the adjective: Perfect! I began thinking, “Really? I just had a major heart attack. How about ‘Good…, under the circumstances? Or, not terrible?’

Dr. Guy Lalonde was the chief cardiologist with oversight of my care. Every morning a couple of the resident (young) cardiologists would come to see me and then sometime later, Dr. Lalonde and “the bus” (as the nurses called the entourage of residents and a pharmacy student) would come to my room to do a more in-depth examination and discussion of how I was feeling.

Pretty soon, Dr. Lalonde began discussing the left-side artery that was approximately 70% blocked and whether I (and my insurance company) wanted to go ahead and put a stent in it on Friday. My inclination was to go ahead with that course of action since that would be the standard protocol with patients in my condition. Since Canada has a national health insurance program, this huge hospital didn’t have lots of billing and insurance specialists. Dr. Lalonde was making calls to and being put on hold by my healthcare insurance provider himself!

It was a strange feeling being in limbo. Would I be transferred by medical transport to another hospital in Atlanta? Would I stay in Montreal for a few more days or weeks? And at this point, none of my family back in Atlanta, Chattanooga, Birmingham, Dayton or Dallas, knew I was even in the hospital! Wow!

Curt Armstrong; executive director of L’Arche Atlanta, my friend and fundraising partner over the past few years; was the first familiar face that afternoon. It was great to see him and he brought a card full of messages from the 50 L’Arche USA and Canada retreat participants that I had been a part of that week at Villa Saint-Martin in North Montreal. Curt said that during the morning small group time, the conference had shared a time of corporate reflection and prayer for me.

News of the prayer time and the messages on the card were a powerful witness to me that the Body of Christ was present and that my fellowship was not broken by my absence.

We had been scheduled to fly home to Atlanta on Thursday afternoon at the workshop’s conclusion. Curt had ridden to the airport with Nathan and canceled our flight with Delta. Curt was going to stay on for a couple of days until we had a sense of how long I’d be in the hospital and when Jenny would be able to arrive in Montreal. It was a comfort to have Curt there and I was able to shed a tear or two as I was moving out of shock and the reality of my heart attack was catching up with me.”

 

 

 

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Jimmy Locklear

One seeking to live from his heart as a follower of Jesus. Son, husband, father, friend. Writer, marketing and fundraising strategist. Veteran of corporate, agency, and high impact organizations.