Last night my husband had all the symptoms of a heart attack. His dad brought him to the hospital while I waited for his ex to come pick up their children so I could join him at the hospital also.
Once I was alone, I was physically ill due to my anxiety issues. I felt guilty for not being stronger. I felt like I was failing to be there for my husband like he is there for me on a daily basis. Once the physical symptoms of the anxiety attack passed, I got in the car and drove to the hospital to be by his side.
He had passed triage and the nurse said it wasn’t a heart attack, but there was something wrong and he should see a doctor as soon as possible so we waited and waited and waited. It was almost 10 AM before we saw a doctor. There were 18 people in the emergency waiting room and it took 14 hours to see them all. The hospital was short on staff, short on beds, etc. yet we are told by politicians that everything is fine in the medical industry.
Staying awake on very uncomfortable plastic chairs made everyone feel worst than when they first came in. There was a lady who had been there since supper time with a broken arm, a guy with an appendix attack, a worried mother with a sick daughter, etc. No one was being called to see a doctor for hours. We all had time to pass at triage for revaluation before the first person was called.
Finally, it was our turn. They made him pass a bunch of tests and so far it looks like there is nothing wrong with his heart, but they don’t want to rule any possibilities out. He couldn’t pass the stress test due to having a knee injury so they are sending him to do an equivalent test that is induced by meds instead of physical activity. We are now on a waiting list for that test.
Back home after lunchtime the next day, we are both feeling like crap, starving and sleep deprived. Now time for self-care.