I wasn't sure I was going to write about this. But the other day, Husbando (who notoriously does not read what I write on here very often) asked me if I had written about what happened to him a couple of weeks ago.  I said I didn't, and he asked me, "Why not?".  So I figured he must be okay with me broaching this topic with you.

Let's start off by saying, he's fine.  It was a scary couple of days, but he's fine.

It started out with Husbando complaining of a pressure in his chest for a couple of days.  I told him to call his doctor, and he did the dude thing, you know, "It's nothing, I'll just deal with it".  After a couple of days, I pretty much insisted that we have to see someone about this.  At first, we went to the Urgent Care here in town, but they can't deal with chest pain, so off to Bothwell we went.

Everyone there was super nice and tried their best to make me not freak out, but I still did.  I wish I remembered names, but there were so many people, I couldn't possibly remember them all.  Nurses, staff, the very understanding Nurse Practitioner guy, they talked us through as much as they could.  They took him back a few times for a series of tests, I think they did maybe three or four different ones.  After about test number three, I finally just lost it.  I was bawling behind a half closed curtain for a good four to five minutes.  The kind of bawling you couldn't stop if you wanted to, chest heaving, can't even see straight kind of crying. It would have been embarrassing if I had any kind of perception of my surroundings. A nice lady from the other side of the room brought me a box of tissues, but I didn't see her and she startled me.  So, sorry, nice lady.

My angel of a father came up to the hospital to sit with me, that made it better.

Eventually, the Nurse Practitioner explained to me that they knew something was up with his heart, but since they didn't have a Cardiologist on staff, they had to err on the safe side and send them somewhere else.  They gave us the option of KC vs Columbia, and we took Columbia because he has family there.  At this point it was probably about four or five, and I was a wreck from being up since the crack of dawn and crying all afternoon.  But I wasn't going to leave him. So they put him in an ambulance and took him to the University Hospital.  I went home, packed a small bag, and followed.

We got there approximately the same time (I saw the ambulance in the entryway as I was entering the parking lot).  I got to his room and they got him all settled in.  There were a couple of tests that night, and the doctors told us they suspected he'd had a small heart attack, but that they couldn't be sure until they did a procedure where they went up his arm into his heart and checked it out.

The girls came with their grandmother and mother (Husbando's ex wife, Sara, a real saint of a lady). I think it helped him a little. They brought him some Chik Fil A since he hadn't eaten all day.

That night was unpleasant.  They had given me a recliner to sleep in, but I couldn't sleep at all.  I was worried, and that made me uneasy, obviously.  I was worried about what we would tell the girls, what would we tell my family, what would we do from now on, what if something happens during the procedure and he dies, what if, what if, what if. I tossed and turned and caught little naps all night.

The next morning, almost first thing, they took him away for the procedure, a cardiac catheterization.  They told me it would take about an hour or two, at the most. I decided I just needed to get out of the room, so I went out and got a pretzel and some juice from the Schnucks a few minutes away.  When I got back, he wasn't quite done.  One hour turned to two.  It was a little after noon. I wasn't pacing, per se, but I was on edge.  Finally someone came in and told me he was fine and that he'd be back in the room in a little bit.

They brought him in, knocked out from the anesthesia, and explained to me what happened.  They think that he'd had a viral infection that might have spread to his heart, causing him to have a small heart attack.  They put in the balloon, cleared the blockage, and put in a stent.  They said he would sleep for most of the afternoon and probably wouldn't wake up happy.

About two hours later, he woke up. The first thing he wanted to know was when he could eat.  He wasn't particularly cranky, but I could sense a big improvement already.


Soon enough, he was complaining about the terrible hospital food (he's a cook, so he's picky) and dying to get out of there.  It was an almost instant 180 from what he had been just days before.  Doctors and nurses filed in and out all afternoon, and we got to see the girls again.  Eventually the doc told us that there were just a few tests to be done to be sure that everything was stable, and that we'd be able to leave the next day.  That night was a much better night for me, we both zonked out at about 9:30 p.m. and I actually slept, knowing he was actually okay.

The next day, it was just a never ending wait to see when we could leave. Tons of papers, instructions, restrictions, and, well, pills.


A lot of pills.  Eventually, around noon, we finally got to leave.  Two and half days of craziness and stress was almost behind us. They told us to make sure he took it easy for a few days, and told us what he could and couldn't eat, etc.  He had to meet with his Sedalia nutritionist though, because some of the restrictions diet wise didn't jive with other restrictions he has due to diverticulitis.  I think that's how it's spelled.  Like, the heart people want him to get protein from nuts, but he can't eat nuts because of his digestion situation, etc.

All of that was about two weeks ago.  Now, he's up and at 'em, better than ever, just bruised up a bit on his arms.  It was a very scary situation, and it really made me wonder just how close we all are to something serious like this. It also made me think more long term - that I'm going to have to really start researching things like life insurance, medical plans, things like that. It's scary stuff, but... I have to put on my big girl pants and do it. I know we're still young, but that doesn't mean this isn't part of our reality.

I guess I've always just kind of deluded myself into thinking that bad things like this just won't happen to us because I decided it wouldn't.  Now, I'm grateful for his health and the great people who brought him back to normal.

I'm just... not looking forward to the bill, I can tell you that.  Thanks for reading.

Adultingly yours,




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