Another Heart Attack, January 2008

The following post was written in late January 2008. I removed it from my blog, along with a few other health-challenges posts, thinking that it might work against me, should I ever apply for a job and someone spot this information online. Now that I am fairly certain I will not be applying for any jobs--chosing instead to freelance once again after I leave Cal State--I thought I'd make these posts public again.

On Thursday, some time on Thursday, I had another heart attack. Yes, I'm such a trooper with such a high tolerance for pain that I can't say exactly when it happened.

All day I had been having chest pain, but it was not bad enough to complain about. Occasionally, I would rub my chest, which always helps a bit, but I went on teaching and even at one point got on my soapbox to decry the loss of civil liberties and the dearth of presidential candidates who seem even remotely concerned that the First and Fourth Amendments to the Constitution are virtually null and void.

That evening I met Michelle, a former student, for dinner at Hof's Hut. By then, I was feeling pretty awful. My blood sugar was way off the scale, somewhere over 600, as my blood monitor doesn't register anything above that level, only flashes HIGH BLOOD GLUCOSE. I had changed my insertion site that morning, but I guess the pump wasn't delivering any insulin and maybe hadn't been delivering any all day. When the insulin pump works, it works great, but when it doesn't work, it really messes things up.

I really didn't feel like eating. I was extremely weak and tired and sick to my stomach. But Michelle was hungry, and I didn't want to be a spoil sport, so I ordered a dinner salad. I picked at it a bit, then things turned from bad to worse. I felt an immanent purge coming on, grabbed a few napkins, hastily excused myself, and managed to contain most of my barf in the napkins as I rushed to the ladies' room. Michelle followed.

She asked me if she could do anything. From my compromised position, kneeling before the bowl, I managed a chuckle. "I guess you've seen worse than this in the military," I said to a woman who served in Afghanistan. She admitted that she had.

Michelle offered to take me to the ER, but I thought what I was experiencing was merely high blood sugar, which produces ketones that act as a poison to the system and can cause vomiting.

Once home, I called Mary Kay, a very dedicated, call-me-any-time-of-the-day-or-night diabetic nurse. She said it was crucial that I drink plenty of fluids and try to keep them down. I also took massive doses of insulin via a syringe because the pump was obviously not doing its job.

Still my blood sugar remained high--587. I called Tom and asked him to bring over some sugar-free ginger ale. By the time he arrived, I was so weak I could hardly move. Time to go to the ER.

I kept telling the intake nurses that I needed an IV and something to drink, but all they did was give me test after test--EKG, urine, blood pressure, temperature. Finally, after almost three hours, they gave me an IV and I began to stabilize. It was only then that I found out that, because of the elevated level of the heart enzyme troponin in my blood, I must have had a heart attack.

I stayed in the hospital until Saturday evening. Right now, I'm feeling fine. I'm able to walk and make my bed and do everything I need to do. Once again, I experienced a medical drama, but, thankfully, once again, I bounced back quickly. Another lease on life, another chance. Thanks so much to all forces and beings who are watching over me.