Change

It is interesting how one single event can change so many things. When I went to bed last Monday night, I had no idea how things would change the next morning. I woke up around 7:30am to the sound of Eric opening the door after a morning trip to the gym. He sat on the bed and talked to me for a few minutes and before I knew it my whole day took a dramatically different turn that I could have ever imagined. He put his hand over his chest and said he felt sore. The next thing I know I was dialing 911. I knew it was a heart attack. I don't know why, but I just knew. I just kept telling him to breathe and try to relax knowing full well that nothing I could say or do would make it any better. I prayed that Mac would stay asleep until the paramedics had come and gone, but of course I heard "Mommy, I'm awake" coming from upstairs right about the time the ambulance arrived. I told Mac to play in his room and that I would bring him breakfast. He looked at me funny, but went back to his room to play. I went back downstairs and Eric just kept saying "Don't let Mac see me." I heard Mac upstairs crying so I went to check on him, and when I picked him up he saw the lights from the fire truck. He immediately got upset and started asking for his Daddy. It's funny how kids can sense when something is wrong. I told him to play for a few more minutes and I would be right back. As I got downstairs Eric was being wheeled out and Mac was screaming "I want my Daddy." I think that may have upset me more than anything. I told Eric I would be right behind him as soon as my Dad got there to stay with Mac. I guess I went into Mom mode because as soon as they shut the door I just told myself that nothing was wrong. Even though I knew it was serious, I just started getting everyone dressed and fed like any other morning. Mac kept asking about his Daddy (even though he never saw anything) and I just kept telling him that Daddy was okay and we would see him later. As soon as my Dad got there, I put Ellie into the car (obviously I was not thinking when I decided to bring her) and headed to the hospital. While we were waiting for the ambulance I had called my friend whose husband is an ER physician to ask her where I should have the ambulance take Eric. Fortunantly, she thought it was serious enough to meet me at the hospital. I pulled into the garage and drove around looking for a spot for what seemed like an eternity. After searching for the ER, I ran into the paramedics who had brought Eric in. When I asked where he was I received a blank stare in return. Then the reality of what was going on hit. I asked again and still nothing but a stare. The third time I asked I think I was actually yelling and one of them said "He's not in the ER." I wanted to shake her at that point for not volunteering exactly where he was. Finally, she told me he was in the cath lab. I just stared at her and said "He had a heart attack didn't he?" She just looked away and told me I should go to the front desk. Thank God my friend was standing there waiting. The man at the desk was telling us where to go to find Eric, but I didn't hear one thing that came out of his mouth. I just followed my friend. By the time we figured out where to go Eric was already in a room/out of the cath lab. I left Ellie in the waiting room and went into see Eric. I was terrifed to walk into that room. I didn't know if he was going to be hooked up to machines or if they had caught it in time. To my surprize he was in bed, completely awake, and talking to a nurse. I didn't really know what to do. I just walked over to him and put my hand on top of his. I kept waiting for my emotions to take over, but they didn't. Eric had a harder time that day that I did. When the nurse told me exactly what had happened I was shocked. I could wrap my mind aroudn the fact that he had a heart attack, but not that he really could have died. Not long after I arrived our friend who is a physician at the hospital came in the room. I have never been so relieved to see someone come through a door. He looked over Eric's chart and basically said he was very lucky to be alive. Eric had 100% blockage in his left anterior descending artery (LAD), referred to as the "widow maker." They had placed two stents into the artery and saved his life. They also found blockages in two other arteries that will most likely require stents in the future. The rest of the day is one big blur. I spent most of it on the phone contacting our families and answering questions from our friends. I am honestly thankful that I had something to do because oddly enough, it kept my mind off of worrying about Eric. That night Eric was in great spirits. He was up and moving around, joking, and seemed "normal." I still hadn't broken down and cried like I was expecting. We spent the late night/early morning listening to machines screaming that Eric's pulse/blood pressure were too low (which they weren't) so there was not much rest to be had.
The next day basically consisted of a multitude of doctors and nurses providing us with more information than I think I will ever understand about the heart. I guess I expected a heart attack patient to be "sick" but Eric wasn't. It was almost as if nothing had happened. He suddenly had more color in his face than I had seen in weeks and we were taking turns joking about how he has a free pass to get out of doing anything for a least a solid year (that probably sounds horrible, but we needed a little humor at the time). Once again our night was consistently interrupted by a screaming machine that I seriously comptemplated throwing in the hallway at one point.
On Thursday morning the doctor said he was sending us home. I didn't want to go. I didn't want to take him home. I suddenly found comfort in all those beeping machines that had annoyed me the past 2 nights. But I was never going to be ready to take him home. There was always going to be that fear so I just kept telling myself that Mac was going to be so happy to see his Daddy. We got home exactly 53 hours after his heart attack (crazy when you realize they make you stay in the hosptial 4 days after having c-section). When we got home, I left my mom with Eric and the kids to go fill Eric's prescriptions. I dropped them off and decided to get my grocery shopping done while I was waiting. I walked up and down the aisles trying to figure out what to get. Nothing seemed healthy enough. There was either too much fat or too much sodium. I could feel all of my emotions rising up, but I manged to push them back down and hold it in. When the prescriptions were ready I went to check out and I just lost it. The pharmacist was trying to comfort me, but I found my self incoherently blubbering away for all to see. Seeing all those medications sitting in front of me made it all very real. It was the first time that I actually put all the pieces of the puzzle together. I suddenly realized that my entire world, everything I know, everything I love about my life, was almost taken away from me.
I still worry. I find myself checking on him throughout the night. It's frightening to be that close to losing everything you have come to know about your life. Thankful doesn't even begin to describe how I feel. As I sit here writing this I know that my life could have completly changed in the blink of an eye. I could have lost my best friend. My children could have lost their father. I don't think I have ever taken Eric for granted. I have always known just how fortunate and blessed I am to have him in my life. However, I did take for granted our time. At 30 you don't see yourself here. You don't see the possibility of a life ending. You just plan on growing old together as though that is the only option. Now I know that is not always the case and I will forever cherish every moment I am given with my husband and children.