I've been meaning to write about this for some time but felt like this wasn't a story for social media. This is part of my heart attack story.
So my fiance and I had been looking for a house in Pennsylvania for about a year. We finally found one that met our needs and had a beautiful view and tried to rush the move so her daughter could start the school year there. My boss wasn't happy because it was so sudden and had me work until the very last second. So this was the plan: Monday and Tuesday I work, Wednesday we both take our cars to PA, close on the house, drive back to meet with the movers on Friday. It was a stupid way to do things but this way, Peyton was only missing a few days of school.
This was deep into the Pandemic so I don't think I need to explain to anyone reading this how terrible of a time it was. Especially for someone working in the food industry. You had employees staying home to take advantage of that unemployment cheddar, people getting sick and having to quarantine and all that extra work falling on the healthy people. It wasn't a good time, I think we're all still not ok from it.
So on the weekend of course my car starts randomly stalling. I drove out east to pick up some merchandise and my car stalled getting off the parkway. Knowing I'd be driving from NY to PA, I brought it
to the shop. So on top of everything I had to bike to and from work Monday and Tuesday.
Wednesday comes and on the drive to PA I started having this headachy feeling in my chest and forearms. I figured it was anxiety and focused on breathing and eventually it went away. The next day the closing went quick and painless, we went to the house to drop some stuff off and headed back to NY. As soon as I got on the road the pain started up again, but worse. I made it back home, texted my girl that I didn't feel well and fell asleep. Woke up the next day feeling fine. Chalked it up to out of control anxiety...either way, once we got the mover squared away, one more drive to PA and I can rest as long as I need to.
So the mover comes and because I had to work until the very last second there was still a lot to pack. So I'm packing stuff, bringing it downstairs, loading it into my car and when I got back upstairs, I'd need to lay down until the discomfort went away. I have a very high threshold for pain (I lived through a stuck and infected kidney stone- a story for another day), but I guess at this point I should have known something was wrong. But I felt if I could just make it back to PA I could rest as long as I needed to. Eventually, after an hour of my fiance and the movers having to walk around me on the floor, Lynn suggested I take my stepdaughter and go to the hospital.
So off I went, to St. Joseph's Hospital in Bethpage. They ran some tests and told me they wanted to keep me for observation for 6 hours. I told them there was no way, that the movers were literally at the house, I had the cash on me for him and there was just no way. A doctor came in and showed me some levels in my blood that were out of wack. I considered staying but suddenly my phone died, so I had no way of even telling Lynn what was going on. Peyton was cold and hungry so I ripped out my IV and said lets bust this joint. As we were making our escape a nurse stuck her head out of the door and said "um, sir...where are you going?!?" I told her my phone was dead, the kid was cold and I had to drop off the money and that I would come right back. And off I went.
Driving home, I had to pull over because the pain started again. After 10 minutes or so it went away again and I finally made it home. By this time my friend who I had called before I left to come help out Lynn was there. I carried something downstairs and when I came back up I was on the floor again. He called an ambulance. By this time I couldn't argue anymore. I made it downstairs and sat outside waiting.
Ambulance pulls up and the driver is a kid I used to manage at Bageltown. So that was amusing...my life was now in the hands of a kid I used to boss around. He was only the driver but still played an important part in saving my life that day. They got me into the ambulance and asked me what was going on. I told them it had been going on for 24 hours and the whole drive home from PA my forearms and chest ached. The main paramedic said "I hate to tell you, but you're having a heart attack." The doors of the ambulance swung shut and I began to have a major heart attack.
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