"Heart Attack Treatment"

In September 2017, while on a caravanning holiday in Saumur, France, I suffered a mild heart attack. I was initially treated locally before being transferred to the specialist Coronary Care Centre in Angers where I was given an angioplasty, during which two stents were inserted in one of my coronary arteries. During the procedure, another narrowing was identified and flagged up for future reference.

Upon my return to the UK, I was given a thorough check up and pronounced fit and well. The only long lasting effect of the angioplasty was being prescribed anti-platelet (blood thinning medication) for twelve months. Life quickly got back to normal and my wife and I continued to enjoy our busy retirement right up until four o’clock one Sunday afternoon in March when I experienced the rather sudden onset of a splitting headache and what at first felt like a particularly uncomfortable bout of acid indigestion. I took myself in from the garden and downed two Paracetamol before chewing on a couple of antacids. I had to sit down then as the pain behind my breast bone got steadily worse.

Within minutes, I realised that, far from suffering from indigestion, I was having a heart attack. I called my wife who, after taking one look at my frighteningly pale face, dialled 999. Her prompt reaction not only saved my life, but also greatly improved my chances of a successful recovery. After a quick assessment by the call handler, an ambulance was dispatched. During the very few minutes it took to complete the phone call, I broke out in a cold sweat and was overcome by waves of intense nausea while my pain reached a level of intensity I have never experienced before and hope never to experience again.

Within minutes, two extraordinarily calm and professional paramedics arrived and, after a swift but thorough examination and an ECG (electrocardiogram), confirmed that I was, in fact, experiencing a full blown heart attack. It seemed that the narrowing identified in France had at last caught up with me. The paramedics gave me aspirin to thin my blood and morphine to ease my pain, while telling me that my data had been sent direct to the Cardiology Department at Musgrove Park and that they would be taking me straight there in the ambulance. After an exciting ride through the lanes of Somerset, I was wheeled straight out of the ambulance, up in a lift and straight into the catheter suite where I received another angioplasty and another stent to open up my blocked artery.

The relief was profound and immediate. I went from being very, very poorly to being no more than a bit shattered in the space of a few minutes. Time elapsed from the placing of the 999 call to the insertion of the stent was, by our estimation, a couple of minutes short of an hour. Twenty minutes later, I was comfortably tucked up in bed in the Coronary Care Unit, and three days later I was back home, to all intents and purposes none the worse for wear. The only things I have to show for the experience is a tiny, 1mm scar on my right wrist, and a couple of extra pills to take for a while.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who had a hand in my treatment and recovery; from my darling wife for not panicking and for making that timely 999 call, to the paramedics who were so calm, kind and professional, the surgical team who inserted my stent, and last but by no means least, the nursing staff on the CCU for making my brief stay with them as pleasant and stress free as possible. I fully acknowledge that we in our region of Somerset are extremely lucky to have such a highly efficient ambulance service along with the centre of excellence which is Musgrove Park Hospital. I also acknowledge that the NHS in England is suffering from appalling underfunding along with a raft of other challenges, but at the same time we must never forget how lucky we are.

The NHS is unique in the whole world in its remit and ability to provide first class care absolutely free at the point of need, regardless of the status of the individual. My surgery and equivalent three day hospital stay in France cost in the region of 30,000 Euros, which was luckily covered by travel insurance and my EHIC. On the other hand, my prompt and quite remarkable treatment here under the auspices of the NHS cost me absolutely nothing. We take our NHS for granted at our peril, it is one of the most precious things about living in this country. I was told by my surgeon that the only reason I have suffered no lasting damage to my heart muscle is the speed with which I was assessed, transported to hospital and treated. As he said so eloquently, “time is muscle.”