The Blink Of An Eye
Life can change, in the blink of an eye. It did for me, at least, yesterday morning.
My twin brother called me and asked me to immediately come over to his house. I could tell by the way he said my name something was wrong. I hung up the phone, yelled at my husband to listen for his phone, and out the door I hobbled.
As soon as I walked into my brother's house, I could see he was in distress. I asked him what was wrong, but inside, I already knew the truth. He was having a hear attack.
I helped him down on the couch, then ran back to my house. As I ran upstairs to get the aspirin, I once again yelled at my husband. I told him my brother was having a heart attack, and to please help.
My brother chewed down three aspirins while I was accessing him. He was sweating profusely, holding his chest, gasping for air and vomiting. He told me he wasn't going to the hospital. I told him he was. I won. I called 911, and an ambulance was on its way.
My husband had made it over to my brother's house and was helping him sit up. I was on the phone with the 911 operator when I heard the sirens from the speeding ambulance. I ran outside to flag them down, I figured it was quicker than looking for the address.
By this time, my husband was walking my brother out the front door. The paramedics began firing off a slew of questions. His age, family history, what medications he was taking...I answered everything I could, but when it came time to answer the type of pain he was feeling, I couldn't. My brother was agitated, and struggling to breathe, so he couldn't really describe it very well. He just kept saying "I don't feel right!"
The paramedics attached a heart monitor to my brother while he was strapped on the gurney. He was getting an ECG right out on his front lawn. I was standing right there with the paramedics, and I could see my brother's heart rate was 225 beats per minute. "He is in SVT." I said out loud. The one paramedic asked me if I was a nurse. "No." I said quietly, "I've just seen enough heart rhythms to recognize SVT when I see it." The paramedic asked me why, so I told him I had seen the exact rhythm on my own ECG. (SVT is Super ventricular Tachycardia, fast heartbeat)
My brother was on his way to the hospital, and my my husband and I were as well. We had to wait, once we arrived, for the doctors to stabilize him before we could see him. It seemed to take a very long time. I was feeling very sick myself.
We were finally allowed back to see my brother. A cold shiver ran up my spine as I approached the trauma room. My brother was in the same place where my dad had passed away five years before. I didn't tell him that. It's the same room that I had been in many times myself having cardioversions.
My brother still didn't look well. His heart rhythms was better, but he was now in A Fib, an irregular heart beat. I noticed he had the cardioversion pads on his chest and back. He had to be shocked twice to revert his heart. Fortunately for him, he didn't remember, thanks to a lovely little sedative I like to call milk of amnesia. It's called Propofol, it's white and it knocks you out long enough to be treated...if you are lucky enough to have time. Usually, I was never lucky enough to be sedated, and was shocked without medication.
We spent the rest of the afternoon in that trauma room helping my brother. He was still violently ill. By four o'clock, he was taken to the ICU.
He was given a new medication, which was administered through his IV. It helped to bring his heart back into a normal sinus rhythm. Sitting on the other side of the bed is different for me. It's a difficult thing to experience someone you love in pain, knowing you can't help them.
Yesterday was a long day for my brother, and myself. Thankfully, my brother is better today, and this morning he was released. I picked him up and took him home. He is a very happy man, and I am very happy sister.
My twin brother called me and asked me to immediately come over to his house. I could tell by the way he said my name something was wrong. I hung up the phone, yelled at my husband to listen for his phone, and out the door I hobbled.
As soon as I walked into my brother's house, I could see he was in distress. I asked him what was wrong, but inside, I already knew the truth. He was having a hear attack.
I helped him down on the couch, then ran back to my house. As I ran upstairs to get the aspirin, I once again yelled at my husband. I told him my brother was having a heart attack, and to please help.
My brother chewed down three aspirins while I was accessing him. He was sweating profusely, holding his chest, gasping for air and vomiting. He told me he wasn't going to the hospital. I told him he was. I won. I called 911, and an ambulance was on its way.
My husband had made it over to my brother's house and was helping him sit up. I was on the phone with the 911 operator when I heard the sirens from the speeding ambulance. I ran outside to flag them down, I figured it was quicker than looking for the address.
By this time, my husband was walking my brother out the front door. The paramedics began firing off a slew of questions. His age, family history, what medications he was taking...I answered everything I could, but when it came time to answer the type of pain he was feeling, I couldn't. My brother was agitated, and struggling to breathe, so he couldn't really describe it very well. He just kept saying "I don't feel right!"
The paramedics attached a heart monitor to my brother while he was strapped on the gurney. He was getting an ECG right out on his front lawn. I was standing right there with the paramedics, and I could see my brother's heart rate was 225 beats per minute. "He is in SVT." I said out loud. The one paramedic asked me if I was a nurse. "No." I said quietly, "I've just seen enough heart rhythms to recognize SVT when I see it." The paramedic asked me why, so I told him I had seen the exact rhythm on my own ECG. (SVT is Super ventricular Tachycardia, fast heartbeat)
My brother was on his way to the hospital, and my my husband and I were as well. We had to wait, once we arrived, for the doctors to stabilize him before we could see him. It seemed to take a very long time. I was feeling very sick myself.
We were finally allowed back to see my brother. A cold shiver ran up my spine as I approached the trauma room. My brother was in the same place where my dad had passed away five years before. I didn't tell him that. It's the same room that I had been in many times myself having cardioversions.
My brother still didn't look well. His heart rhythms was better, but he was now in A Fib, an irregular heart beat. I noticed he had the cardioversion pads on his chest and back. He had to be shocked twice to revert his heart. Fortunately for him, he didn't remember, thanks to a lovely little sedative I like to call milk of amnesia. It's called Propofol, it's white and it knocks you out long enough to be treated...if you are lucky enough to have time. Usually, I was never lucky enough to be sedated, and was shocked without medication.
We spent the rest of the afternoon in that trauma room helping my brother. He was still violently ill. By four o'clock, he was taken to the ICU.
He was given a new medication, which was administered through his IV. It helped to bring his heart back into a normal sinus rhythm. Sitting on the other side of the bed is different for me. It's a difficult thing to experience someone you love in pain, knowing you can't help them.
Yesterday was a long day for my brother, and myself. Thankfully, my brother is better today, and this morning he was released. I picked him up and took him home. He is a very happy man, and I am very happy sister.
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