on june 3, i walked into the glengarry memorial hospital in alexandria after a physician friend said i needed to get my heart checked, likely a stress test. a visit to a hospital emergency would be the easiest way to get started.
within hours, my world was rocked.
i had breathing issues when doing sports and felt something was off but did not think it was too serious. soon, blood test results showed i had had a heart attack. this seemed impossible; i am a healthy, middle-aged cyclist, runner and hockey player.
the protocols kicked in: i had to stay in hospital and would be transferred to the university of ottawa heart institute. this was completely beyond what i expected — even if i knew it was the right course of action.
while i was trying to make sense of all the tests and what the future of my care would look like, one doctor commented that the health-care system is broken. this exasperation stuck with me. was the system that was treating me broken? it was a worrying thought.
the next morning, off to ottawa in an ambulance. even though it was a saturday, i had an angiogram that afternoon; they stuck a camera in my wrist, then up my arm into my heart. although sedated, i could see on a huge screen all the artery blockages in real time as my heart pumped away. at that moment, it seemed like every square inch of artery in my heart was blocked. it was the worst-case scenario. i needed open heart surgery. my head was spinning.