A Nurse Has Heart Attack And Describes What She Felt Like When Having One

A nurse has heart attack and describes what she felt like when having one

I am an ER nurse and this is the best description of this event that I have ever heard.

FEMALE HEART ATTACKS

I was aware that female heart attacks are different, but this is description is so incredibly visceral that I feel like I have an entire new understanding of what it feels like to be living the symptoms on the inside. Women rarely have the same dramatic symptoms that men have… you know, the sudden stabbing pain in the chest, the cold sweat, grabbing the chest & dropping to the floor the we see in movies. Here is the story of one woman’s experience with a heart attack:

"I had a heart attack at about 10:30 PM with NO prior exertion, NO prior emotional trauma that one would suspect might have brought it on. I was sitting all snugly & warm on a cold evening, with my purring cat in my lap, reading an interesting story my friend had sent me, and actually thinking, ‘A-A-h, this is the life, all cozy and warm in my soft, cushy Lazy Boy with my feet propped up. A moment later, I felt that awful sensation of indigestion, when you’ve been in a hurry and grabbed a bite of sandwich and washed it down with a dash of water, and that hurried bite seems to feel like you’ve swallowed a golf ball going down the esophagus in slow motion and it is most uncomfortable. You realize you shouldn’t have gulped it down so fast and needed to chew it more thoroughly and this time drink a glass of water to hasten its progress down to the stomach. This was my initial sensation–the only trouble was that I hadn’t taken a bite of anything since about 5:00 p.m.

After it seemed to subside, the next sensation was like little squeezing motions that seemed to be racing up my SPINE (hind-sight, it was probably my aorta spasms), gaining speed as they continued racing up and under my sternum (breast bone, where one presses rhythmically when administering CPR). This fascinating process continued on into my throat and branched out into both jaws. ‘AHA!! NOW I stopped puzzling about what was happening – we all have read and/or heard about pain in the jaws being one of the signals of an MI happening, haven’t we? I said aloud to myself and the cat, Dear God, I think I’m having a heart attack! I lowered the foot rest dumping the cat from my lap, started to take a step and fell on the floor instead. I thought to myself, If this is a heart attack, I shouldn’t be walking into the next room where the phone is or anywhere else… but, on the other hand, if I don’t, nobody will know that I need help, and if I wait any longer I may not be able to get up in a moment.

I pulled myself up with the arms of the chair, walked slowly into the next room and dialed the Paramedics… I told her I thought I was having a heart attack due to the pressure building under the sternum and radiating into my jaws. I didn’t feel hysterical or afraid, just stating the facts. She said she was sending the Paramedics over immediately, asked if the front door was near to me, and if so, to un-bolt the door and then lie down on the floor where they could see me when they came in. I unlocked the door and then laid down on the floor as instructed and lost consciousness, as I don’t remember the medics coming in, their examination, lifting me onto a gurney or getting me into their ambulance, or hearing the call they made to St. Jude ER on the way, but I did briefly awaken when we arrived and saw that the radiologist was already there in his surgical blues and cap, helping the medics pull my stretcher out of the ambulance. He was bending over me asking questions (probably something like ‘Have you taken any medications?’) but I couldn’t make my mind interpret what he was saying, or form an answer, and nodded off again, not waking up until the Cardiologist and partner had already threaded the teeny angiogram balloon up my femoral artery into the aorta and into my heart where they installed 2 side by side stints to hold open my right coronary artery.

I know it sounds like all my thinking and actions at home must have taken at least 20-30 minutes before calling the paramedics, but actually it took perhaps 4-5 minutes before the call, and both the fire station and St Jude are only minutes away from my home, and my Cardiologist was already to go to the OR in his scrubs and get going on restarting my heart (which had stopped somewhere between my arrival and the procedure) and installing the stents. Why have I written all of this to you with so much detail? Because I want all of you who are so important in my life to know what I learned first hand.

1. Be aware that something very different is happening in your body, not the usual men’s symptoms but inexplicable things happening (until my sternum and jaws got into the act). It is said that many more women than men die of their first (and last) MI because they didn’t know they were having one and commonly mistake it as indigestion, take some Maalox or other anti-heartburn preparation and go to bed, hoping they’ll feel better in the morning when they wake up… which doesn’t happen. My female friends, your symptoms might not be exactly like mine, so I advise you to call the Paramedics if ANYTHING is unpleasantly happening that you’ve not felt before. It is better to have a ‘false alarm’ visitation than to risk your life guessing what it might be! 2. Note that I said ‘Call the Paramedics.’ And if you can take an aspirin. Ladies, TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE! Do NOT try to drive yourself to the ER - you are a hazard to others on the road. Do NOT have your panicked husband who will be speeding and looking anxiously at what’s happening with you instead of the road. Do NOT call your doctor – he doesn’t know where you live and if it’s at night you won’t reach him anyway, and if it’s daytime, his assistants (or answering service) will tell you to call the Paramedics. He doesn’t carry the equipment in his car that you need to be saved! The Paramedics do, principally OXYGEN that you need ASAP. Your Dr. will be notified later. 3. Don’t assume it couldn’t be a heart attack because you have a normal cholesterol count. Research has discovered that a cholesterol elevated reading is rarely the cause of an MI (unless it’s unbelievably high and/or accompanied by high blood pressure). MIs are usually caused by long-term stress and inflammation in the body, which dumps all sorts of deadly hormones into your system to sludge things up in there. Pain in the jaw can wake you from a sound sleep. Let’s be careful and be aware. The more we know the better chance we could survive to tell the tale.“

Reblog, repost, Facebook, tweet, pin, email, morse code, fucking carrier pigeon this to save a life! I wish I knew who the author was. I’m definitely not the OP, actually think it might be an old chain email or even letter from back in the day. The version I saw floating around Facebook ended with “my cardiologist says mail this to 10 friends, maybe you’ll save one!” And knew this was way too interesting not to pass on.

❗AVOID THESE PEDOPHILES AT ALL COSTS! ❗

I was scrolling through Tumblr and came across a post of KNOWN PEDOPHILES ON TUMBLR (many of which have or want to rape actual children/minors)

THERE ARE ACTUAL PEDOPHILES ON TUMBLR TRYING TO GET IN TOUCH WITH MINORS ON TUMBLR

PLEASE SIGNAL BOOST THIS LIST AND KEEP OUR MINORS SAFE

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hallucifer6669

5 years ago

PLEASE SHARE THIS AND HELP HOWEVER YOU CAN

My dog was attacked and needed emergency care that we can't pay for! Please help us!

Please donate if you can

If you can't help then share

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hallucifer6669

3 years ago

Little friend

Story Update: The Pizza Delivery Girl’s Survival Guide to Gotham City

Note: As always, thank you all to everyone who commented and supported this story. I’m always so grateful for your feedback! I’ll be answering asks and comments in a few days, when I’ve got a little more energy. But I always read them and I’m always so grateful for them! I hope you’re all taking care of yourselves and staying safe during these times! Updated Chapter: Chapter 17: What He Had Not Said

Chapter 1

Story Summary:

People who lived outside of Gotham City would most often think of it in terms of its heroes and villains. About Batman and Robin, Joker and Harley Quinn

People who actually live in Gotham City would only think of one thing: surviving.

Who cares about the people in costumes when your house has been bombed for the fifth time, or your wife has been taken hostage just because she worked in a bank?

Or, in your case, when you have to make regular deliveries to places where even Batman feared to tread?

Because let’s face it. In a world full of superheroes and costumed villains, the real heroes are the ones who make sure that people get their pizzas in forty-five minutes or less.

Chapter Preview:

For the first time, the Ghost seemed to hesitate, and he took another step forward. Terror rose in the back of your throat, filling your mouth with a faint metallic taste. There was something so frightening about holding a gun to another person and realizing that they were not afraid.

“You’ll hurt yourself,” he said.

You could feel the tips of your fingers pulsing against the cold steel. You reminded yourself that if you looked, there would be no scars.

“Try me.”

“I’m not here to fight you,” the Ghost said.

But his voice was hard, unrelenting. He wasn’t here to fight you, but he wasn’t going to let you get in the way, either. You grimaced, baring teeth.

“Then, leave.”

He raised his head to look past you, towards Red Hood. He looked more human, then. Something more than smoke and shadow. Beside you, you felt Red Hood shiver, as if he was afraid.

“I can’t.”

You saw it a split second before he lunged. You leveled Red Hood’s gun and fired. It felt like a small explosion had gone off in your hands, the recoil nearly ripping it out of your grip. Your ears were ringing loudly, and you watched as the bullet tore the shadows apart. But it was only smoke, the man himself had melted away from the spot. You could see him out of the corner of your eye.

“Stop.” His voice was a low hiss, anger barely contained between gritted teeth.

You wanted to shoot him again, but your hands were shaking. How were you supposed to hit a man who could melt into the shadows? How can you aim at him?

He was moving forward now, one hand extended like a claw. A chill ran through you; he was going to take the gun away and then you and Red Hood would be defenseless.

You took aim again.

“Bruce!”

The word was like the crack of a whip and the Ghost jolted as if he’d been struck. In the shadow of the doorway, you saw him: Nightwing. You stared at him, a mixture of relief and apprehension. Nightwing had said that he was friends with Red Hood.

And yet, he seemed to know who the Ghost was. Bruce, Nightwing had called him. The name repeated in your head like a broken record. There was only one Bruce in Gotham that you knew of. The man who played the clueless, playboy billionaire, the man who fooled the citizens of Gotham for years before he was unmasked.

It didn’t seem like such a leap, really, to consider that he might have fooled them again.

But the pieces didn’t seem to fit. You kept the gun trained on him. Batman was supposed to be a hero, Gotham’s hero. The one unshakeable symbol of justice and safety. Even dead, people still whispered his name like a prayer.

Batman wouldn’t use methods that nearly drove criminals to madness. Batman wouldn’t leave something like bat-thing unconscious and bleeding on your apartment floor. Batman wouldn’t terrorize Red Hood. You didn’t want to believe that this thing of smoke and shadows was the hero you looked up to for so long.

Your finger tensed on the trigger.

“I thought you were dead.” His voice cracked at the last word.

Nightwing raised a hand, almost as if reaching out, then let it drop back down. The look on his face was like agony.

“What are you doing here?” the Ghost said.

For the first time, he sounded unsure.

“Followed a distress signal.” Nightwing’s eyes tracked Red Hood, still lying prone on the floor.

He was shaking, you realized. Even with Nightwing here, Red Hood was still afraid. It made you wonder what other terrible things the Ghost did. It made you wonder if Batman was capable of such things.

“How did you get here?” Nightwing asked. “Did you follow Red Hood here? Did you hack into our comms?”

The Ghost was still. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.” Nightwing’s voice cracked. “Why here? Why now? What about when we confronted Killer Croc and I cracked a rib? Or when Tim busted his head? Why now?”

He did not answer. You felt your arm beginning to ache as the adrenaline faded away. Your fingers rattled against the handle of the gun. Cold sweat ran down your neck. Nightwing looked different now than from all the other times you’ve seen him. The cords in his neck stood out, his hands were fisted at his sides. In the dim light, the blue of his eyes shone eerily.

Nightwing always had an air of effortless strength to him, an easy confidence. But tonight, he looked downright lethal.

You and Red Hood needed to get out of here. You lowered the gun, feeling your arms trembling at its weight. Red Hood’s breathing had gone shallow and erratic. When you laid a hand on his shoulder, you could feel the tension in his muscles.

“We need to get out of here,” you whispered.

But the Ghost appeared to have heard you. His eyes shone from the swirl of shadows that surrounded him.

“He needs to come with me.”

“I’m not coming with you.” Even weak as he was, you could hear the conviction in the Red Hood’s voice. “Not again.”

Not again?

Nightwing glanced at Red Hood, and you could see his expression twist with concern.

“He doesn’t want to come with you,” Nightwing said.

“It doesn’t matter. He needs my help.”

Nightwing’s face went slack, and you saw in his expression something like grief, a quiet kind of suffering.

“You’re not going to let us go, are you?” he asked.

“No. Red Hood needs my help.”

“He’s needed your help for more than a year, now,” Nightwing said quietly. “We all did.”

The shadows seemed to lengthen, move across the walls in a way that was not natural. Tendrils crawling higher and higher as they reached the ceiling. And the Ghost seemed to grow, the shine of his eyes glowing brighter. His figure lengthened, the angles of his figure growing sharper, crueler. His hands were like claws. The protrusions from his head looked like devil’s horns. You could feelyour chest flare in pain, and you struggled to breathe.

Nightwing glanced at you, and even then, you could see him struggling to smile.

“The Clocktower,” he said. “Do you know it?”

You nodded silently.

“Someone will help you there.”

“Nightwing,” the Ghost said, his voice was deep with menace. “What are you doing? She’s a civilian.”

“Right now, I trust her more than I trust you.”

You heard the crackle of electricity as he unsheathed his escrima sticks.

“Go.”

“No.”

The Ghost lunged forward, and everywhere his shadow touched seemed to grow darker. But Nightwing met him head on, blocking his path to the of you. In the darkness, the glow of his weapons looked like lightning.

“Come on,” you said, slinging Red Hood’s arm over your shoulder. You staggered underneath his weight. “We need to go.”

You heard a low hiss behind you, like gas escaping. The crackle of electricity. You did not look back, you didn’t dare to.

The air seemed sweet somehow as the two of you burst outside, the chill of it seeping into your lungs. You took several grateful gulps. Red Hood sagged against you, and you struggled to stay upright as you guided him to your motorcycle.

“The Clocktower,” you gasped. “Do you know it? Is it safe?”

You could hear him wheezing, as he struggled to stay upright in his seat. There was a long moment of silence.

“Red Hood?” you asked. “Is it safe there?”

“Yes. It’s safe there. And…”

He struggled to speak.

“And thank you.” Read more on AO3

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hallucifer6669

3 years ago

Mushy

Aimed at people who don’t know where wool comes from, it’s 100% plastic. Yes, plastic.

So any garment you wash will release microfibres into the sea. It’ll never decompose.

You’re supposed to believe that sheep shearing is violent and cruel. There are imbeciles out there that work in an unprofessional manner while shearing, but that’s not the case overall.

Sheep don’t suffer from having their fleece removed.

Left on, the fleece can become a home for fly eggs and the subsequent maggots which can eat the sheep. Chemical treatments are available to prevent that happening. It’s much better for the sheep, the land and the farmer to avoid chemical use.

Don’t be fooled. Wool is a sustainable material, one we should make more and better use of.

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