Recognizing the Signs: My Journey Through an Unlikely Heart Attack

I never planned to write a non-technical article on this site, but I also never imagined having a heart attack while in seemingly excellent health. Given how closely timely medical intervention is tied to the outcome, I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have been in surgery within an hour of the event.

In this article, I want to share my personal experience—what I felt, what went through my mind, and the mental resistance I had to accepting something so improbable. I’ll discuss my initial reluctance to seek help, and ultimately, what led me to take action. By sharing my story and the lessons I’ve learned, I hope to help others recognize the life-saving signs of a heart attack and encourage prompt action when it matters most.

Background

To understand my mental state during the heart attack, it’s important to know a little more about me. I’m in my mid-40s, eat healthy, and exercise daily. My diet is so boring that most people who know me make fun of it. I do both weightlifting and cardio, and have low body fat. This led many of my friends to assume I was immune to a heart attack—an assumption they voiced when they found out what had happened.

The reason my health and fitness are relevant is that human psychology often discounts highly improbable events. The more unlikely the risk, the longer people tend to ignore it—something that’s clearly counterproductive in the face of a medical emergency.

The Heart Attack

I often go to the gym on my lunch break, which is exactly what I did the day I had my heart attack. On the last rep of a bench-press set, I felt a sharp pain in my mid-back. At first, I assumed I had just tweaked something—a common issue with heavy weightlifting.

But as I sat up, the pain shifted to my chest, and that’s when I started to think something might be wrong. Still, I wasn’t too concerned. I was breathing heavily, but that’s to be expected after a set taken to failure.

I sat there for a few minutes, hoping the discomfort would pass. However, the chest pain only intensified, and my difficulty breathing worsened. My next thought was that I might just need some water, so I stood up—but instantly got lightheaded. I tried to walk toward the water fountain but realized there was no way I could make it, so I sat back down.

By now, I knew something was wrong. After sitting for a few more minutes, the pain in my chest was still worsening, my breathing was still labored, and I had started shaking and sweating. This was probably the first time I seriously considered the possibility of a heart attack. Yet, my brain kept resisting that thought, knowing how improbable it seemed.

I pulled out my phone and looked up heart-attack symptoms. Sure enough, everything I was feeling matched. But I also knew that many conditions share similar symptoms, so I still wasn’t convinced.

I sat there for a few more minutes as the symptoms worsened. At this point, I knew I needed help. I considered driving myself to the emergency room, which was just across the street, but I still couldn’t stand up.

Eventually, I considered calling an ambulance, though I hesitated. I knew the cost would be astronomical, and I kept telling myself I’d feel incredibly stupid if it turned out to be something minor.

As the minutes passed, my breathing became more difficult, and I started to worry about fainting. I remember thinking, just lie down on the bench and go to sleep. That was a dangerous thought, because I knew that even if the gym called an ambulance, I might not be awake to tell them my symptoms. So, I made the decision to call for help, despite the cost.

But at that point, I was too weak to make the call myself. I managed to send a quick text to my significant other, telling her I thought I was having a heart attack. She immediately called for an ambulance. I also waved down a person nearby and told him I was having a medical emergency. He quickly alerted the gym staff.

In an incredible stroke of luck, there was an ambulance just down the street. Even though it was a short wait, I continued to deteriorate. I couldn’t sit up straight and had to hold my head up with my hands. Breathing was becoming an effort. My entire focus was on forcing myself to breathe steadily.

When the paramedics arrived, they immediately ran an EKG. I could tell by the look they exchanged that something was wrong. One of them finally said, “Your heart is looking pretty sketchy. Let’s get you to a hospital.”

A short drive later—a miracle in itself in Houston traffic—I was in a room surrounded by medical staff preparing me for surgery. By this point, I was shaking uncontrollably, not from fear, but from what I assume was an adrenal response to the emergency. The cardiologist in the room ran another EKG, confirmed it was a heart attack, and minutes later, I had been anesthetized for surgery.

Lessons Learned

The main lesson I learned is that if you’re anything like me, the improbability of a heart attack—and the potential cost of seeking treatment—can cause your brain to fight against what your body is telling you. Within a minute, my body was signaling that something was very wrong, but my brain didn’t take it seriously. My body recognized the worsening symptoms as unusual, but my brain kept saying, “It’s probably fine.” When I began to consider the possibility that it was serious, my brain switched to a different concern: “It’s going to be too expensive.” It wasn’t until I was at risk of fainting, and unable to call for help, that I finally decided to seek medical attention.

The mistake I made was equating improbable with illogical. In hindsight, everything made perfect sense. The initial pain I felt in my back wasn’t my back at all—it was my heart. My brain refused to consider a heart attack, assuming it had to be caused by plaque buildup. I wasn’t considering other possibilities. Had I known that dislodged blood clots could also cause a heart attack, I probably wouldn’t have hesitated so long to accept the situation. Straining on the bench press had caused a blood clot to travel to my heart, block an artery, and trigger the attack.

I was incredibly lucky for several reasons. First, getting into surgery within an hour of the attack is almost unbelievable. Second, as strange as it sounds, I was lucky that my symptoms were as severe as they were. With less severe symptoms, I probably would have tried a “wait-and-see” approach. I have a history of ignoring pain, hoping it will go away. I once walked around with a broken wrist for months without realizing it. There’s a real chance I wouldn’t have survived if my body hadn’t pushed me to act by making the symptoms extreme enough to override my brain’s reluctance.

Many heart attacks don’t come with extreme symptoms. You may not immediately recognize that you’re having one. That’s why it’s so important not to let your brain talk you out of what your body is telling you. Learn the symptoms of a heart attack, and if you experience any of them, seek help immediately. If you’re concerned about the cost of an ambulance, that’s a personal decision, but at least get someone to take you to the emergency room.

I wasn’t completely sure I was having a heart attack until minutes before surgery. Could I have felt foolish if it turned out to be something else? Maybe. I certainly would have been annoyed about the expense. But I can guarantee you that you’d feel far better being slightly embarrassed for overreacting than facing the possibility of not acting and ending up dead.

Another lesson is that there was no single symptom that made me truly worried at first. The chest pain was severe, but only because of its location. If I had felt that same level of pain in my leg, I would have ignored it. Even with chest pain, if I had been able to catch my breath, I might have dismissed it. If I had been able to stand and walk, I probably would have driven myself to an urgent care center, where I likely would have waited a long time.

Ultimately, the biggest lesson is that you might not recognize you’re having a heart attack until it’s too late. If you have any suspicion, don’t wait. If your brain is telling you, “This can’t possibly be a heart attack,” that’s already a sign you need help. If you’re questioning the likelihood, you already suspect it. Don’t ignore that feeling.

Conclusions

I’m obviously not a medical doctor, so please don’t take anything in this article as medical advice. If you come across conflicting information about heart attacks, please disregard my personal experience and consult a medical professional.

That said, the purpose of this article is to share the key lessons I learned from my experience, which may help you if you ever find yourself in a similar situation:

• You may never know for sure that you’re having a heart attack until after it becomes very serious.
• With the exception of the difficulty I had breathing, each symptom I experienced was bearable and could have been ignored.
• Your brain (and the potential cost of emergency care) will try to convince you that what your body is telling you isn’t serious.
• Getting immediate treatment is crucial. Don’t worry about feeling embarrassed if you seek help and it turns out to be something minor.

Finally, I’d like to thank everyone that helped that day, and everyone that has reached out since then. I’m happy to report that the operation successfully removed the blood clot, and that the short time between the attack and the operation likely prevented permanent damage.