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Their lips were moving fast, and I saw the fear in their eyes as I tried to control my labored breaths. I shut my eyes and knew nothing good was going on. My heart felt as if it were on fire. As if it were shattering right inside my chest and trying to pound its way to freedom from the chains that seemed to be suffocating it.
I passed out at some point, wanting nothing more than the pain in my chest to disappear.
I awakened to bright lights shining down on me. My arms were hooked up to machines, and a nurse stood with her back to me as she was filling out something in her hand.
“What happened?” I asked, dazed and confused with cotton mouth. Nothing was making any kind of sense as I tried to get a grip on the situation. Everything seemed so fuzzy in my mind as I tried to connect the dots.
Flashes.
I remembered flashes that took place before my arrival at the hospital, yet none of them were flashes of love. No…
I had flashes of pain, flashes of fear, flashes of death.
The nurse turned my way with a big, bright smile. “There you are. It’s good to hear you talking. You’re at St. Peter’s Hospital. Do you have family you’d like me to call?”
I shook my head. “No. It’s just me. What happened?”
She smiled, walked over to me, and took my hand in hers, squeezing it lightly. “You’re going to be okay. You had complications with your heart and—”
“Complications?!” I asked, panicked about her word choice, and the worry that hit her eyes made it clear she wasn’t the right one to deliver the news.
“Let me get a hold of your doctor so he can explain everything to you, okay? I’ll be back with answers for you.”
“How long have I been here?” I asked, moving only slightly but feeling intense pain shoot down my spine.
“About twelve hours.”
“What?!” I spat out, sitting up straighter, terrified. Had I been out for that long? What was happening?
“The doctor will be in shortly.”
She left me to sit by myself, scared about what was happening to me. I looked at the numbers on the screen, my vitals. My hands were clammy, and my mind spun as I tried to figure out what exactly was going on. The last thing I recalled was being at work, and then everything went black.
It took over forty-five minutes for the doctor to arrive, leaving me with nothing but anxiety-packed thoughts.
“Hi, Aaliyah. I’m Dr. Brown. It’s nice to meet you.” The doctor walked in with a half-grin and a few others followed, including the nurse who greeted me before. “I hear you are a bit confused about everything that’s going on.”
I wrapped my arms around my body in a protective stance because I felt emotionally exposed and needed the tight hug I’d given myself. “Yes. I don’t understand why I’m here.”
“Do you recall what happened?”
“I remember being at work and then blacking out. I woke up here. That’s all I know.”
He pulled up a chair next to my bedside and clasped his hands. The somber look on his face worried me.
“What is it?” I asked, panic clenching my insides.
“It’s your heart.”
“What do you mean? What do you mean it’s my heart?”
He grimaced and nodded once as if he was preparing for his next words. “Your heart is failing at this time. Your blood has backed up in the pulmonary veins, which transports the oxygenated blood from your lungs to your heart. This means your heart cannot keep up with the supply, causing fluid to leak into your lungs. This is diagnosed as congestive heart failure.”
“Oh, my goodness.” I placed my hands against my chest, terrified of what he was saying. My mind began to spin as he spoke those words to me. Had he said my heart was failing? “What does that mean? How do we fix it? I’m only twenty-two. This doesn’t make any sense. I’m healthy. I’ve always been healthy. Oh, my goodness, am I dying? What do I do? How do I—”
“Calm down…it’s okay,” the doctor told me, placing a comforting hand on my forearm.
I ripped my arm out of his grip as tears formed in my eyes. “You can’t say calm down after telling me my heart is failing! Oh, my gosh. This can’t be happening. What do we do? What do I do?”
