Now & Then Knocked down but not out by heart attack

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

— I missed writing an article last week because of being in the hospital with a heart attack. It is the second time that has happened to me. I had an earlier attack in 2001, before we moved back to Pea Ridge. I used to think of myself as something of an iron man, and of heart attacks as happening to other people who haven’t taken care of themselves. I have just about conceded that my career as an iron man is past, if ever I was an iron man; and am realizing that sometimes things happen even to people who think they are taking pretty good care of themselves.

Obviously I write a great deal about the 1940s and 1950s, and often in appreciation of good things about life back then. But I am very glad not to have had a heart attack in the 1940s or 1950s. The treatments for heart problems have vastly improved since then, and I had several reminders of that on Wednesday night, Nov. 17.

I had worked hard for much of the day Wednesday, crunching leaves with the lawn mower, and we had gone to church as usual on Wednesday evening. I was leading singing, when I started feeling weak and lightheaded. I didn’t have pain, but I was in a cold sweat, feeling nauseous and suddenly very tired. Some of my friends saw that I was pale and wobbly, and they helped me sit down while my wife called 911. Wedidn’t have 911 in the “old days” of course. Our Pea Ridge emergency medical crew was there in less than 10 minutes. We didn’t haveemergency medical technicianss back then either.

We did have Ralph Miller’s funeral hearse as an ambulance, but not the team of trained technicians to take emergency medical steps.

When the EMTs arrived, they immediately checked my pulse and blood pressure, and found that both were very low. Right away they called the Bentonville Ambulance Service to meet us half-way, gave me four aspirins to help the circulation, loaded me in the ambulance and set out for Bentonville.

We met the Bentonville ambulance crew at a business driveway just south of Jac’s Ranch and I was transferred to the other ambulance. It was raining and we all got wet, but I guess we weren’t thinking much about that. I possibly should have been fearing for my life, but somehow instead I was thinking “Isn’t this the most remarkable turn of events!” and “Would you ever have imagined that we would be doing these things this evening!?”

The Bentonville crew immediately hooked me up to their EKG unit, completed the EKG, and called the hospital with the diagnosis of a left side heart attack. They called me in as a “STEMI” ( ST-elevationmyocardial infarction). I had never before thought of myself as a STEMI. I learned that those letters stand for things a fellow doesn’t like to hear about his heart, like a suspected certain kind of Infarction.

I especially didn’t like that word infarction.

By the time the ambulance reached the hospital emergency room, a cardiologist and support crew were assembled.

After a short consultation, they wheeled me into the cardiac cath lab, and within 15 minutes there they had pin-pointed the artery restrictions that were causing my troubles.

I came out of the procedure with three new stents implanted in my coronary arteries, but I was already feeling much better and regaining some strength.

Also, by the time I reached the Coronary Intensive Care Unit I was outfitted with a dozen or more of those round white sticky electrode things on my chest, shoulders and stomach, and soon was wired to a gang of electronic machines and monitors.

They were telling the doctors and nurses that my heart rate and blood pressure were low, but better, and that my blood oxygen was good, then not, then good again, etc. During thenight, one of the monitors would beep to wake me up, and the nurse would explain that I needed to breath deeper. I would doze off, and it would beep me awake again. I never figured out just how to regulate my breathing while I was asleep.

On Thursday, the readings were mostly looking better, and several friends and family members came in to visit. The main disturbance came when I heard the intercom calling “Code Blue - CICU Bed 5.” I thought, I sure hope that isn’t me! I feel OK!

It turned out that I was Bed 2, and doing OK. The nurses even went out to the waiting room where my family was waiting to tell them that I was OK.

I thought that was pretty thoughtful, since everybody was anxious. I was pretty stable through the day, so that evening I was transferred out of CICU to a room on the third floor.

To be continued ———◊◊◊

Editor’s note: Jerry Nichols, a native of Pea Ridge, is a retired Methodist minister with a passion for history. He is vice president of the Pea Ridge Historical Society. He can be contacted by e-mail at [email protected], or call 621-1621.

Community, Pages 5 on 12/01/2010