My mother recently had a heart attack. I want to share my experience because I hope it can help someone else.
It was a typical Tuesday afternoon in the clinic when my father called. I could hear something different in his voice. Then he said: “Mom’s in the hospital. She had a heart attack.”
Just three days earlier, we had our usual Saturday morning call. We talked about life, her blood pressure being a little high, and the fact that she’d just started a new medication.
At that moment, I stopped being a physician. I was just a son. I told my medical assistant to cancel the rest of my patients. I believe in being transparent, and many of my patients have become like extended family to me. I wanted them to know why I was suddenly gone. My wife had a bag packed for me in minutes. Even my dog sensed something was wrong.
As I was driving down to South Florida, my dad called again. The cardiac cath had been done. But no stents. “She needs open-heart surgery,” he said.
A CABG. A bypass. That hit harder than I expected. It’s one thing to talk patients through it every day. It’s another when it’s your own mother who needs care.
I arrived that night. I stayed focused and tried to keep calm for my dad. When I started going through her records, I felt this mix of sadness and frustration. She’d been on a statin but took it only
perhaps once or twice a week. Her numbers didn’t look terrible: total cholesterol under 200, LDL under 100. But I knew her history. Her father, my grandfather, died of a heart attack at age fifty-one. That kind of family history matters, and it should’ve guided her care.
I reviewed her EKG from a recent visit, the one where she’d complained of high blood pressure, nausea, and tingling in her left arm. The EKG was clearly abnormal. It was apparent she had already
had a heart attack before this hospitalization. It was right there in black and white. But her provider sent her home with just a referral to cardiology. No ER visit. Nothing.
Her surgery was scheduled for that evening. Finally, after six hours and eighteen minutes, my phone rang. Her surgeon said she was okay. The procedure had taken longer than expected because her
arteries were so calcified.
The next morning, she was groggy, sedated but smiling. She even cracked a joke. That’s when I knew she was going to be alright.
This whole experience has left me thinking about how easily this could have been prevented. If her provider had emphasized the importance of taking her statin daily, and checked her Lipoprotein(a).
Lp(a) is like bad cholesterol’s nastier cousin. It’s more inflammatory, more dangerous, and diet and exercise barely move the needle. Most people don’t even know they have it unless someone checks.
If you have a family history of heart disease, having “okay” numbers isn’t sufficient. Preventive care can truly make a significant difference.
My mother’s recovering now. I’ll carry this experience with me forever as a doctor, and as a son.
When we discuss your health in the clinic, understand that I’m not only doing it as your doctor. I’m doing it because I’ve experienced the consequences of things being overlooked.
Please take charge of your health, ask questions and dig deeper.
