ROCKHAGGIS

My heart!

One day, when I was 32, walking into my local village I felt some strong and strange pains in the centre of my chest. I knew that these were different than any I had thus far experienced. Not indigestion, wind or a pulled muscle! I diverted from the shops to my GP's chair. “Nothing wrong with you my boy, too young for any heart stuff, just a pulled muscle around the chest area!”

Within a few days of the intermittent occurrence of this pain, I was lying on the floor in-front of my sofa having a massive heart attack!! I was not super fit nor a super slob. I had recently completed the first Bradford marathon, though more recently settled into a life as a busy, upwardly mobile medical electronics rep. I recall just after admission into hospital, seeing through a gap in the curtains that were drawn about my bed, the duty consultant shaking his head whilst in conversation with my then wife. Not good!

However with good care and medical intervention I made a reasonable recovery and after further investigations it was decided that surgery was the best option. Fortunately with the job I was doing I was on first name terms with many of the north of England's senior cardiac consultants. In my health  area, Yorkshire, there was a long waiting list, unless you were prepared to go private. I was able, because of my contacts, to be transferred to Manchester and put under the care of Barry Dorran at the CCU Manchester Royal Infirmary!

Seven days later, after a successful quadruple heart bypass, I was heading home and soon after back to work. I shall not go into much detail here – but then, with little or no after care, particularly mental... my life took turns that were not planned for and had a profound effect on my life to date. My attitude to my marriage, my work, to society, my sense of values , all changed dramatically. I moved away and spent many years in rejection of what had happened. The seriousness of my condition. A condition which when the consultant doing my first angiogram at Leeds General Infirmary viewed, had whistled and whispered to himself ' spaghetti junction ! ' I pushed my self into all sorts of jobs.... including a number of years clam diving off the west coast of Scotland. I did all the things I was advised not to do, drink, bad eating habits, smoking and adrenalin pumping stress!!! It was only a matter of time! Again there are many things which I could mention, being mid dive and feeling 'that' pain again, stepping back and going to university and doing a software engineering degree, another marriage, a software business and more, but to keep to the topic, as I took on more, my health began to deteriorate again, until at the lowest point my heart stopped !!! Fortunately I was in a hospital bed when it happened and a blast from a defibrillator, brought me back.

This was the lowest point! I lost every thing, my best friend and wife, my businesses, my home, my future, my self esteem, my everything..... I could go no lower!!! no lower! Back in Oban, which I consider my home town, I eventually secured supported accommodation and relied on state benefits. Still my health deteriorated, but seemingly all that was on offer were pills which seemed to have little effect. At best they offered a few months more. I was 52, very low, very angry, very alone !

Eventually, through persistence I found a surgeon, who was prepared to risk blotting his record book and take on my case. Bypassing a bypass, is not something many would recommend as it has only a poor to marginal prognoses! The day came and I have to admit, I had said my farewells, though I felt at ease that this was the right decision. Two years on I have made an astonishingly good recovery and my progress continues.

I not superman, I still run on two and a half cylinders, I get pain if I push too hard, I cant do all that I want, though some of that is the fact that I'm nearly 55 and that imposes some restrictions even if you are in mint condition ! So from a point where planning for tomorrow seem pointless, I am doing something that I have planned for two years. I am proving to myself that I am not ready for the scrap heap just yet and that maybe there is something out there I'm am still destined to do.

I hope that if I can inspire just one fellow cabbage patient to turn from the path of self doubt and despondency and grasp hold of what is possible, then that will make the cold and the wet and the blisters all worth while. My heart still beats strongly... look after yours and it will too.

Please find it in your heart to donate a pound or two to my BHF sponsorship fund.