My Night To Remember At The Emergency Room

It was back in the year 2012 when the doctor in the McKay Dee Emergency Room in Ogden Utah said: “This will feel very odd.” The next thing he said was: “At this point we need to stop your heart.”

I had been dealing with some heart issues for a year or two. All my life there had been times when my heart “skipped a beat” or otherwise lost its very-important-to-me rhythm. But this kind of event is not that remarkable. Most folks will experience this. Sometimes the reason is apparent, caused by a sweet lady, hard workout, or too much coffee. But sometimes, they just happen, no one knows why. But no problems occur.

I had been experiencing these events more and more often, and with longer duration. In fact, it had gotten so common, I had quit caffeine to ensure that was not a factor. It did not seem to be. So, reluctantly, I saw my doctor. He put me on a portable heart monitor to catch the action.

The prescription was for a month. So naturally, these events which had been getting so common completely disappeared.

It was at the end of the 30 day trial period that I had my worst attack yet.

I was headed home by myself from the parish Lenten fish dinner when I noticed my heart racing. This ability to notice my heart rate may be easier for me than others since, as a athlete, I have gotten used to monitoring my pulse. The neck artery is the best for this.

Many feel faint, or actually faint, when this attack occurs. This was never a symptom for me so, unwisely, I continued driving the 8 miles to home along busy Harrison Boulevard.

Once home, I greeted my wife and discretely telemetered my heart info to the dispatcher. There was a bit of the engineer in all of this as I was gleefully excited about having real data on the issue at last.

Apparently, a heart dispatcher is a young person who has been told to answer the phone, get the data, and if certain things are present, call the doctor.

This young man was very excited. And he was unable to contact the doctor. I assume by his conversation with me that he was also told to never, never, never, never tell anyone on the phone what to do. He was allowed to ask for more data. Which he did. Two more times. Then…

“… if I were you, I’d already be at the emergency room. Just saying.”

My dear wife, who I had kept clueless about my doctor’s appointment, 24/7 hour heart monitor (it didn’t have to be on all the time), and the latest attack, was starting to sense something was not quite right in all this activity.

So after quick, but heartfelt apologies (I just didn’t want to worry you, honey) we were off to the hospital ER — with her driving. The ER is less than 2 miles from my house.

Turns out, a grey-haired 60 year-old man who enters the McKay-Dee ER complaining of heart issues gets to go to the front of the line.

It was just minutes before I was laying down and hooked up to all manner of monitors.

After a half hour, there was no change. My heart was still not finding its rhythm. “supraventicular tachycardia”, they said. SVT. “The best kind to have”, they said cheerily.

After 45 minutes, the doctor assured my wife and I that this was the most minor of heart issues and “we all know exactly what to do with these things.”

After an hour, it was time to take action.

“This will feel very odd.” He said. “At this point we need to stop your heart.”

He went on for a couple more sentences about all that was going to happen, but after a 3 second pause both my wife and I said: “Stop! Go over that part again about stopping his heart!”

Turns out, there is a chemical formulation that doctors can squirt into your heart to 1) stop it, and 2) dissipate quickly. In theory, the heart wants to beat and will resume as soon as the chemical has dissipated.

The doctor sounded very reassuring. But I noticed he had already placed shock pads on my back and chest before he started hooking up the chemical. Always good to have a plan B, thought I.

So I am here to tell you that when your heart stops beating it does feel odd, very odd indeed. It is a lonely feeling, somewhat. Your heart has been there for you all your life. Suddenly, it takes a little vacation. The inside of your chest is very quiet. It does not take a practiced athlete to notice it either. And the pressure that you never knew was there is greatly lessened. Quiet. So quiet. Quiet as the tomb.

It is odd. Very, very odd.

Just as he predicted, my heart wanted to be back with me and it restarted of its own accord.

That fixed it.