By Delilah Castillo-Nosek
Little did I know that my life was about to change in June 2004. On the evening of June 26, I went to bed. Throughout the night, I experienced heartburn (so I thought). I took Pepto-Bismol, but I continued to have discomfort. I could not figure out what was wrong. I couldn’t sleep, and I kept tossing and turning. I got nauseous and got out of bed. I vomited, then went back to bed. As the night went on, I felt worse. The final straw was when I could not breathe. I thought that the room might be extremely warm and turned on the fan. I still couldn’t breathe; it felt as if someone had put a plastic bag over my head and had cut off my oxygen. Enough of this!
I woke up my husband, and he took one look at me and quickly drove me to the emergency room. We live five to eight minutes from the hospital. With no traffic at 3 a.m, we arrived at the emergency room quickly, where I was taken to a doctor. An electrocardiogram confirmed that I had experienced a heart attack and also showed evidence of an older one. The doctors could not control my heartbeat, which was erratic.
The last thing I remember was the paddles coming at me. Go figure at age 54, I had suffered two heart attacks. I must mention that there is heart disease history in my family. Later on, I found out that I had been unconscious for two to three days and on life support machines. The doctor told my husband that I might not survive. However, I beat the odds — I woke up. I had two stents put in my arteries to open them up since they were plugged up. I stayed in the hospital approximately two weeks and then was discharged home. At first, I couldn’t fall asleep because I was afraid I would not wake up. I was very fragile. I could barely walk, hold a plate or do anything.
In August of 2004, I was feeling very sick. I was coughing and congested. My husband called 911, and I was taken to the hospital by ambulance. On the way to the hospital, my heart stopped twice and had to be revived. I had suffered another heart attack with the complication of pneumonia. I had congestive heart failure. I had another stent put in. I stayed two to three weeks in the hospital, then I was discharged and went home. What lay ahead for me was the doctors fine-tuning my medications, cardiac rehab and a therapist for depression. The prognosis was not good, as far as my quality of life.
Meanwhile, I had no appetite, a bad metal taste in my mouth and could not walk at a normal pace. I took very slow baby steps. I was put on the heart transplant list since my heart was so badly damaged. My heart was seemingly irreparable. Yet I did not want someone else’s heart. I prayed to God that I wanted to keep my heart although it was damaged. I was determined to get myself to the level of a healthy, functioning person. It took two to three years to get to the point where the doctors had finally fine-tuned the medications that worked for me, along with a healthy diet and exercise. I was taken off the transplant list. Currently, I have an ICD (Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator) unit.
The journey to get where I am today was not easy and consisted of a lot of bumps along the way. I did not give up. I hung in there. I am happy to report that at 67 years old, I have that quality of life. I am enjoying life one day at a time. I am doing volunteer work, socializing with friends and participating in community events. Life is good!
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