Friday 16th September: 15.00
I’m put on a bay of four beds.
I learn very little about the three other occupants of the bay.
I’m concerned that the long list of things I must do at work, and concerned that the projects I’m running all need me.
The chest and arm pain fades in to the background, eventually fading away completely.
Sam comes back to the hospital after going home to do necessary tasks.
I’m given aspirin and blood pressure and temperature checks.
I feel fine.
The first doctor tells me that there will be another set of checks at 5.15pm (which is about 6 hours after the most recent and most painful attack).
He explains that this would be a decision point.
It’s possible I may be allowed home, when they read the results about 7pm.
I’m optimistic.
Sam sits in the chair next to my bed.
We talk.
We take the piss out of each other.
She can’t fool me.
I can see the worry in her eyes.
I play the fool.
It’s a role I’m comfortable playing.
5pm arrives, the tests are taken.
I feel so tired.
The hospital food seems to have escaped Jamie Oliver’s scrutiny, but I’m sure it has some kind of nutritional value.
8pm arrives, unlike my test results.
To try and expedite things, I hang around the office where the duty doctor does stuff.
He’s incredibly busy.
I feel guilty, but make sure he knows I’m loitering, before I go back to my bed.
About an hour later the doctor comes to see me.
The results have unfortunately shown signs that yes, there has been some serious cardiac-related activity.
They had thought it could have been angina.
But it seems that it was an actual heart attack.
I’m not allowed home.
Inside I feel crushed.
I want to go home.
I don’t want to be this heart attack person.
I want my home and my cats and my cuddles and my junk TV programmes and my books and my woman.
I get a night in the ward.
Sam goes home.
She doesn’t allow me to keep my work laptop, but at least I’ve got my work mobile phone, so I start to let people know the news.
About 1am I have some more blood pressure and temperature obs, and while she’s doing that, the duty nurse says I will be transferred to a specialist cardiac unit tomorrow.
Well that’s lovely.
I fall asleep watching Pitch Perfect 2 on my tablet.