The Silent and Missed Heart Attack
By Adrienne Moreno
I didn’t experience the left arm tingling, the elephant on my chest, sweating or dizziness — some signs of heart attacks for men normally, but not quite as defined for women. Looking back, the only thing I can think of is severe vomiting I had a few weeks before I ended up in the hospital. I had pain under my ribs and went to urgent care, had an X-ray and was given muscle relaxers for possible strained ribs. After a few weeks, I was having trouble catching my breath and I attributed it to my ribs.
I called my doctor and went in to see her Nov. 8, 2024. I had an electrocardiogram (ECG) in the office, and it didn’t look good. She came back to my room and told me that the ambulance would be taking me to the emergency room. I was completely freaked out and terrified. My hard time catching my breath was due to my lungs being filled with fluid and blood work revealed that I had a heart attack! I was admitted to the cardiac unit and started on a lot of medication, more blood work, CT scan, Echocardiogram and different doctors popping in over the next six days. When the cardiologist talked to me after my Echocardiogram, he informed me that I probably had a heart attack two weeks before, and it caused heart failure with an ejection fraction (EF) of 30% and some heart muscle damage. Once my lungs “dried out,” I had a stent placed in my coronary artery, which was 70% blocked. As the doctor was telling me all of this, I felt shocked, fear, terror, why me, what’s next, confusion — a plethora of emotions.
I was closer to death than I had ever imagined, but I had survived and now had to take care of myself. I stopped smoking immediately, kept on my meds, lost weight, watched sodium intake, exercised — still doing it all after six months. The worst part of this heart event has been the mental and emotional drain on me. I felt OK with the physical part, knowing I was doing what I needed. But I cried every day for a few months. I was afraid of doing too much, of driving, of being by myself. Luckily, I have a wonderful support system, including my husband, sister and friends I can talk to.
Therapy was a huge help, and I worked with a therapist for almost four months. It took a long time to grieve my situation and accept my new normal. I struggle with it occasionally, but I am not obsessed with my condition anymore — and no more Dr. Google! My primary doctor and cardiologist are very pleased with my progress, determination and dedication to healing myself physically and mentally. Validation!
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For more information on this health topic, visit heart.org.
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