HEART HEALTH

STORY My

Sue-Ellen Donough on what she learned surviving a heart attack f ive years ago I had a heart attack. I was 35 years old, having finally achieved a level of grown-upness with a house, kids and debt unrelated to expensive shoes. It doesn’t matter how I say it, it’s still unreal. I can’t tell you the specific day it happened, only that by Tuesday, June 9th, 2015, I was in ICU, hooked up to machines, suffering through any movement and preparing for surgery.

The heart attack itself was decidedly undramatic. I’ve seen them on TV and mine was nothing like that. I’ve since learned that like the flu, there are male and female heart attacks. The male ones are the TV ones. Heart attacks in women are often asymptomatic – I guess if we’re going with stereotypes, it stands to reason that ours would be contrary. There’s no pain in the left arm or falling to the floor. I have never fainted in my life, even though that would’ve been a good place to start.

HOW IT STARTED

The week before ICU, I started feeling ill: tired, body pain, and generally bleh. I progressed to glandular fever, with almost unbearable pain in my jaw, neck and shoulders. I thought my eyes were going to pop out. I was nauseous and throwing up, and my blood pressure was Dubaiskyscraper-high, but I was still pushing through, Sue-Ellen Donough running errands on the Saturday morning until I was woman down.

By midnight I called for an ambulance. I’d taken another blood pressure tablet, but it didn’t even touch sides. The paramedics said if I’d taken a tablet then I didn’t have to worry and I should just wait for it to work, that it wasn’t necessary to take me to hospital, that flu was awful and I should rest. They left and I suffered for the rest of the weekend thinking I was overreacting but still utterly freaking out. Here’s a lesson: don’t ever let anyone tell you that you’re overstating how bad you’re feeling or that your worry is unfounded.

THE PENNY DROPS

Monday saw me at my doctor’s rooms and moving immediately to casualty, undergoing tests and being monitored to be admitted. There was no space in their ICU and my nurse was trying to find another hospital for me to go to. I remember telling him that I didn’t need to be in ICU and could go to any ward, to which he gently replied that was not an option.

That’s probably when I started worrying more, as opposed to laying there like I was just passing time. I was eventually transported to another hospital – me trying to walk, them telling me to stay down. Everyone was talking over and around me, and all I felt was confusion and fear.

Test results confirmed that I’d had a heart attack. High infection levels had reached my heart muscle, and my enzyme levels and scans showed that the muscle was damaged. I needed surgery and treatment that would continue for the long run.

THE AFTERMATH

I didn’t see my kids for three days and they haven’t stopped worrying since. It’s painful to watch your children suffer through fear on your behalf. How do I remain honest but also careful of their sensitivity?

I’m getting smarter everyday; I take care of myself but hate exercise. Pulling a muscle feels too close to what the pain felt like when I was in ICU.

I’ve learned that the heart attack resulted in part of my heart only working at 40 per cent now. That news broke me more than the initial heart attack.

It raises so much fear because if I didn’t know the first time, what if I miss the signs again and there’s even more damage? I’ve asked how this could’ve been prevented and there’s no concrete answer. So I just do my regular checks, take my meds, make peace with my limitations and pray for the best while I pay stalker-close attention to my body.

DID YOU KNOW?

Five people have a heart attack and 10 suffer from a stroke every hour in South Africa. More people in our country die from cardiovascular disease than from all cancers combined. Source: The Heart and Stroke Foundation South Africa