Denial

I have never been so happy to be home. Hospitals are awful. The food was gross and inedible. I didn't eat for the better part of two days. When I got home, I slept, a lot. For the first week or two I took three naps a day and then still slept at night. I guess you could call it sleep. I would wake several times a night in a panic. Have you ever had that dream where you are about to fall out of bed and you jerk back and wake up with your heart racing? That is how it felt, but it was several times a night. That went on for about a month before it finally calmed down.

I was also sent home with a very long list of things I was not supposed to do. I was not allowed to lift more than 10 lbs., no pushing or pulling, no baths, no bending, stooping, or straining, no excessive stair climbing (that one was fun, our only bathroom is upstairs), no violent coughing (like you could help it if you had to), no sex until I see a cardiologist (6 weeks later), and go on a heart healthy diet aka the no flavor diet. I also had to monitor my blood pressure, take my temperature and weight every day, and watch for a very long list of things that could go wrong. It was tons of fun.

My husband tried to be helpful while I was off work, but I wanted to get back to normal as fast as I could. I didn't want to admit that it had happened and I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't tell anyone what had happened. I hate to say that I was embarrassed, but I was. I can't explain it, but I was embarrassed. I couldn't even go shopping without needing to take a break or two before we were done. It was horrible realizing that my whole life had just changed without any warning.

I lost a lot when I had my heart attack. It was really hard trying to deal with everything that was going on and I just shut down. I just wanted to go back to normal, but my body wouldn't let me. The doctor that discharged me, put me off of work for three weeks. I went back to work on January 5th and I quickly realized it was too soon. I couldn't make it a whole day and had to leave early every day. I finally saw my doctor on the 8th and she put me back off for another three weeks.

She tried to give me anti-anxiety medication to help me relax and sleep, but they made me feel worse. She also suggested I go to therapy. Apparently younger people that have heart attacks really struggle afterwards. I would guess it is because it comes out of nowhere. One day you are fine and the next you almost die. It's a lot to take in. I never did go to therapy. I just kept trying to ignore that it had happened.

You never know how you are going to react in any situation until it happens to you. We all like to think about what we would do, but you never really know until it happens. I had always figured I would probably develop cancer at an early age and I thought I was prepared for the fight, but this took me by surprise. You can't fight a heart attack. If you are lucky enough to survive it, the road back is long and extremely hard. I am lucky that I survived and I know that, but that doesn't make things easier. They say that time heals all wounds, but I am still waiting.