Truthseeker1
Member
Several months ago, while at the end of my work shift, I was preforming my last duty before calling it a night. I'm a professional mariner and we were docked at the time, for those whom are curious.
Let's just say the activity was moderately physical in nature, and I was half way through the task when I had a sharp pain in my chest. I'd never had this type of pain and instinctively knew it wasn't heartburn. I figured I would finish my chore and see if any other tell tale symptoms occured; partly from my strong work ethic, but mostly out of denial. It wasn't long before I started sweating even though it was a cool evening.
'Uhh oh, that's not good' I thought to myself. Ok, symptom two....if I feel nausea maybe then I'll take action. I finished the task and felt pretty lousy. The pain hadn't diminished and I detected a wee bit of nausea.
"Maybe it's psychosomatic'' I lied to myself. This was only day 3 of an unexpected and very lucritive contract I was fulfilling. I don't have time for this crap, I grumbled to myself. I told my crewmen I was feeling crappy and headed to my bunk. I hopped into my bunk and it wasn't but a few minutes before I decided that : A] my crew was going to discover my cold corpse in a puddle of urine come morning. B] It would be unfair to put anyone through that unpleasant 'surprise'. C] To hell with money, pride and that certain aspect of my personality that doesn't care anymore......I won't elaborate on that subject.
So, I climb up the stairs and soft sold the situation to my mates.
"Hey what are the symtoms of a heart attack?''
I'll cut to the chase, they called the paramedics and it was confirmed I was in cardiac arrest. I can't adequately describe the helpless feeling of being removed from the galley, shirtless, and sitting in an office chair and then being lifted on to a gurney when I felt capable of just walking to the ambulance under my own power.
A short bumpy ride and several nitro tablets later, I'm being pushed through the doors of the emergency room. The PMs kept talking to me the whole time and it was getting annoying. "So this is how it ends'' I thought.
"So, Michael, how are you doing?'' one of the medics ask.
" I'm dying, how do you think I'm doing?" was my reply.
At this juncture, it occured to me that perhaps I should be bargining with God [I'm really agnostic] , and make promises I'd likely never keep; but that seemed pointless and hypocritical. Honestly , I had resigned myself to the probability that my next stop would be the morgue.
END PART 1
I'll post the remainder of the story in this thread. There's no need to comment until it's complete [if at all], so if you're interested you'll have to wait for my next entry.
Let's just say the activity was moderately physical in nature, and I was half way through the task when I had a sharp pain in my chest. I'd never had this type of pain and instinctively knew it wasn't heartburn. I figured I would finish my chore and see if any other tell tale symptoms occured; partly from my strong work ethic, but mostly out of denial. It wasn't long before I started sweating even though it was a cool evening.
'Uhh oh, that's not good' I thought to myself. Ok, symptom two....if I feel nausea maybe then I'll take action. I finished the task and felt pretty lousy. The pain hadn't diminished and I detected a wee bit of nausea.
"Maybe it's psychosomatic'' I lied to myself. This was only day 3 of an unexpected and very lucritive contract I was fulfilling. I don't have time for this crap, I grumbled to myself. I told my crewmen I was feeling crappy and headed to my bunk. I hopped into my bunk and it wasn't but a few minutes before I decided that : A] my crew was going to discover my cold corpse in a puddle of urine come morning. B] It would be unfair to put anyone through that unpleasant 'surprise'. C] To hell with money, pride and that certain aspect of my personality that doesn't care anymore......I won't elaborate on that subject.
So, I climb up the stairs and soft sold the situation to my mates.
"Hey what are the symtoms of a heart attack?''
I'll cut to the chase, they called the paramedics and it was confirmed I was in cardiac arrest. I can't adequately describe the helpless feeling of being removed from the galley, shirtless, and sitting in an office chair and then being lifted on to a gurney when I felt capable of just walking to the ambulance under my own power.
A short bumpy ride and several nitro tablets later, I'm being pushed through the doors of the emergency room. The PMs kept talking to me the whole time and it was getting annoying. "So this is how it ends'' I thought.
"So, Michael, how are you doing?'' one of the medics ask.
" I'm dying, how do you think I'm doing?" was my reply.
At this juncture, it occured to me that perhaps I should be bargining with God [I'm really agnostic] , and make promises I'd likely never keep; but that seemed pointless and hypocritical. Honestly , I had resigned myself to the probability that my next stop would be the morgue.
END PART 1
I'll post the remainder of the story in this thread. There's no need to comment until it's complete [if at all], so if you're interested you'll have to wait for my next entry.
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