As they strapped me down and loaded me in the back of the ambulance to be transported to Faith Regional Hospital, I just kept thinking “this can’t be happening”. Unfortunately, the constant pain in my chest and elevated numbers that repeatedly appeared on the machine I was hooked up to told a different story.
Just two days prior, I went to the Workout World for a little exercise. I recall walking on the treadmill and watching the number recording my heartbeat rise. These numbers were accompanied by the appearance of a flashing, red heart. I felt myself become a little clammy and tired and decided to take the machine’s advice and quit.
One day prior, my husband, my mother-in-law, and I attended the State Dance Competition in Grand Island held at, of all places, the Heartland Event Center. While making my way back up the long flight of stairs after watching my daughter compete, I felt a slight heaviness in my chest and a little more winded than usual. Not giving it much thought, we joined a large group of parents for a little food and drink before making our way home.
On the day of the attack, I remember walking up the stairs at Elgin High School to attend speech practice. By the time I reached the top of the stairs, I knew something wasn’t right. I remember telling my co-coach, Stacy Shumake-Henn, I wasn’t feeling well and felt I needed to go have my blood pressure checked. I also remember holding onto my chest the entire time I walked to my car. As if I was in a trance, I drove straight to my dear friend Vic Miller’s house and asked if she could take my blood pressure. Before she even said a word, her face told me it was serious. To make a long story short, I found myself in the Boone County Emergency Room. Interestingly, even after blood work, they were not certain that a heart attack had occurred. I remember holding my chest throughout the night and was not surprised when they informed me they were transferring me as my numbers indicated I had suffered a heart attack. There had been so many signs, unfortunately recognizing them now was too late.
For the complete story turn to this week’s edition of the Elgin Review.
