I was looking up at her, struggling to understand what was happening. Her mouth was moving but I couldn't hear . . . the noise was loud . . . so loud. She was pretty, with blonde hair loosely pulled back from her face. I could see directly into her eyes which were clouded with concern. She lifted my head up, her hands cool to the touch . . . bent down to meet me, and spoke directly into my ear. "You're going . . . fine. I'm . . . to put these headphones . . . muffle . . . sound. You're . . . a helicopter . . . stay with us . . ." I then felt the jostling as we were lifted up to the sky. That is the last thing I remember before my world turned to black.
It's been three years and I'm still here! In remembering that Saturday morning I continue to be amazed. My symptoms had in no way sent out warning signals of an impending heart attack. I was just tired . . . ! I had been working a lot so it was perfectly explainable fatigue. My upper arms ached a little bit, but again, explainable, and nothing that a nice hot shower couldn't cure.
I am an interior designer and had been installing furniture in a model home that week, so my "symptoms" all made perfect sense. They made perfect sense to me, that is, until about 4:00 A.M., Saturday morning, when I woke up from a sound sleep for no apparent reason. Within minutes I became nauseous, short of breath, and was sweating profusely. I knew that I was in it . . .I just didn't know what "it" was! I was young, healthy, never had any chest pain, jaw or neck pain, no pain shooting down my left arm . . . even still, I knew that I was in real trouble, as in call 911 kind of trouble. It all happened so fast. Seemingly, without warning, I had entered into a world of terms and conditions that were foreign to me. Terms like LAD and RCA, angioplasty, septic shock and stints . . . words I knew existed, but for someone else. Certainly not for me.
Because life's biggest changes rarely give us an advance warning, I was caught unprepared in knowing how to react. In the days and months that followed, I experienced a myriad of feelings. I felt thankful . . . to God for answering the multitude of "beggy" prayers that had been offered up on my behalf . . .to my care givers whose compassion and giving hearts were such a gift . . . to my 'never-say-uncle' family and friends who held vigil by my bedside for days, refusing to give up on me. Yes. . . thankful, fearful, hopeful, wanting answers, NOT wanting answers . . . often engulfed in waves of anxiety and fear. Thankful I had seemingly beaten the odds, but angry that I was now included in a statistical bank I never asked to be a part of in the first place!
Though I didn't realize it at the time, the roller coaster ride of emotions I was experiencing was very common. My life had been interrupted, my innocence stripped away, I had been forced to suddenly come face to face with my own mortality . . . and mourn the loss of my health!
I am well aware that I am not the only one who has experienced a life altering, totally unexpected event in their life . . . but when it is you going through it, right or wrong, you feel very alone. In reality, my heart attack affected not only me, but family and friends alike. They too had been traumatized. Each of us had to find our own path, in our own time, that would take us to a place of understanding and acceptance of what had happened!
I completed a cardiac rehabilitation program and received a bright red T-shirt which announced to the world that I had indeed stayed the course. Most days, pen in hand, I transferred my inner most thoughts into my red leather journal. I poured onto those tear stained pages my feelings of gratitude along with fears and frustrations, all the while praying that I didn't die before destroying the evidence that I had so nakedly revealed. I searched unsuccessfully for articles from people who had undergone a similar experience to mine . . . looking for reassurances that I would be able to regain my life, that the feelings I was experiencing were normal, and that no, . . . I wasn't going crazy. I was on a perpetual quest for answers. As a 'survivor' I wanted to know why I was still here? What was my purpose?
Author Resource:-
Jeannene H. Edwards, owner of Interiors Defined, Inc.
is a highly sought after public speaker, author, professional home
stager and licensed interior designer in Orlando, Florida. In addition
to her interior design and home staging services, Jeannene has merged
with David Edwards Construction, a division of Interiors Defined, Inc.,
enabling them to now offer complete architectural design and building
services to further meet the needs of their clientele. Jeannene is a notable and accomplished speaker, known for her exciting and informative seminars. Her award winning designs and 'how-to' articles have been widely published in newspapers, magazines and trade manuals nationally. For additional information regarding her Step by Step E-Staging Guide, or the many other services offered by Interiors Defined, Inc. please contact Jeannene H. Edwards or David Edwards at:http://interiorsdefined.com/,http://idihomestaging.com/, andhttp://davidedwardsgc.com/
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