My Relentless Heartbreak
Around 3pm, Monday the 25th August, 2026 an intense mid-chest pain began that was relentless, like a stabbing pain. It would not stop and only eased a little when I had a long warm shower, pain killers did nothing. I caved Tuesday night at 1.17am, and rang for an ambulance, and was treated for an hour at the curb side outside my home where a doctor was called to attend. The ambulance attached an electrocardiogram (ECG) that went wild when I relocated from a chair to a trolley bed, I may have had the heart attack then at 2am. I was given the under tongue Nitrolingual Spray which is given for severe Angina but it did not give me relief. Taken to the James Cook University Hospital Emergency ward where I had Morphine and more doses of the Nitrolingual Spray, the pain was dulled but not stopped.
I sat bolt upright on the bed and stayed that way until taken into the Cardiac Lab for surgery at 10am. They put in a second larger cannula in my left arm while the ambulance had put one into my right wrist. Dr Raibhan Yadav was the consultant and surgeon; he performed a CI Cath Lab Procedure for my elevated myocardial infarction or heart attack. After a lot of trouble, the surgeon got a stent into my left main coronary artery. This was done through my right arm artery at the wrist, since my groin presented scar tissue damage from earlier surgery. Because it is done under a local anaesthetic in case another heart attack should happen I was aware the stent went into place because the pain stopped and I remarked so to Raibhan. The surgery finished at 12.10pm and I was admitted into the Cardiac Care Ward. Certain forms of iodine contrast dyes are lethal to me, I will have an anaphylaxis reaction. However, a less potent form is used in this procedure and I had cortisone to counter it which elevates my blood sugar count. Overall, the doctor had difficulty getting through the calcified areas of my heart or in the jargon, difficulties in the angiography due to muscle calcifications. Balloon angioplasty is a minimally invasive procedure to treat blocked or narrowed arteries. A catheter is inserted and threaded through the blood vessels from my right wrist to reach the damaged area on the heart. A special dye is injected through the catheter so that it shows up on an x-ray. This allows the doctor to see the blood vessel blockage on a screen, then by using a small inflatable balloon on the end of the catheter it forces the blocked artery open, all quite amazing.
It is all a terrible shock. One too many medical episodes in my life and now my heart is in a bad way. As well, because I have had head and neck cancer I cannot differentiate between neck pain caused by the cancer treatment or further heart trouble. This is why I did not react immediately to the pain. Cardiac Blues is what one gets after heart attack. I have it. No matter what, it can only end one way, the universe wants me to die, it is only a matter of time. My brain used to run, now it only survives. I have little patience, I am emotionally overdrawn, my enthusiasm has reached rock-bottom, I do not give a fuck, I want no more bullshit, I am mentally exhausted by all the disappointment. Cancer was bad enough. A little online research finds that adults with Autism are significantly more likely to develop heart disease compared to non-autistic adults because of Distinct stress—stress that builds over time. I am in a head biting sort of mood and snap loudly at people. Minnu Issac the Clinical Nurse of the Heart Failure Service told me anger and frustration are common responses that can surface after the initial fear and anxiety begin to wane. Patients often feel angry about the disruption to their lives, the changes they must make, or the sudden dependency on others for daily activities. This anger might not only be directed at the situation but also at oneself or even healthcare providers. I had a lot of problems with nurses in the cardiac ward. I was moved three times over the four days I was there. Telling me I was not sick enough to stay in a particular section went over like a Lead balloon, particularly as she was loud. I carry my Autism Awareness Lanyard and I told her she was unnecessarily aggressive; she was ever so sorry. They always are, insensitive and unable to stretch their imaginations. Nurses make me sick, I have no common communication with them. Autism Awareness is never a given in nursing training. As well, it is obvious I have had a severe head and neck surgery because of cancer and that did not register with the nurses which I think is careless, certainly immature. There was a lot of chaos in the ward from misinformation or not documenting information to which I reacted and left early Saturday afternoon of my own volition without seeing the doctor or pharmacist. Nevermind, I received a call from the hospital pharmacist to ensure I got nine new prescriptions to keep my heart and stent stable for the next year.
Channelling this anger constructively is crucial. Physical activities approved by the cardiac clinic are useful; I walk, a lot. Certainly carefully and with my GTN, a small spray applied under the tongue which helps blood vessels to open quickly, if chest pain strikes. Also, engaging in my creative activities of art and writing can help me express these feelings in a safe and controlled environment, hopefully allowing for emotional healing. Many survivors often struggle with how they see themselves and their capabilities following a heart attack. The perceived loss of independence and strength can lead to diminished self-esteem and confidence. It is accepted psychological distress is increasingly recognized as both a cause and consequence of heart disease. There is even a name for negative emotions after a heart attack: post-myocardial infarction psychological distress (PMPD). It is an umbrella term that includes personality and mood changes after a heart attack, it is apparently common. Depression after a cardiac event is linked to worse heart outcomes, making emotional health a legitimate part of cardiac recovery, not an afterthought. I have psychological care with Dr John Livingston who has had two heart attacks, so he knows how over it I am, in the sense I want to move past the whole horrible shebang. However, I am irritable and hypervigilant with the world about me. Because a heart attack comes from inside, the danger never fully disappears. I expect every upset and physical sensation is another attack. My nervous system is locked in high alert long after the heart itself has probably gotten better. It is still early days and I have many appointments yet; I feel under threat because I have lost too many versions of myself through medical episodes.
I have a great saving grace, my artistic ability to reimagine situations. I have restarted many times; I must rewrite the story of my life. I showed up. The metastatic cancer that caused me so much grief became another story to be told in pictures and essays. My diagnosed Autism has become a vehicle to navigate this uncertain world. Now, having a heart attack is my new world view. My heart has been broken literally. Getting over heartbreak is a battle, and one’s commonsense is the strongest weapon. Whether an emotional heartbreak or the physical damage caused by stress or lifestyle choices caused through a life lived, there is no explanation that is going to feel right. No rationale can take away the pain I feel. Interference and platitudes from others is not only unwelcome, but often insensitive. I do not search for reasons, instead I accept the ones that offending or complicit people offer, or make up one myself. Easy enough as my father died at fifty from a stroke. Then I put the situation to rest because I need that closure to resist the addiction. If I can win academic prizes at university then I know I have the wits about me to accept difficult situations. One needs to be willing to let go, to accept that it is over, the way I used to be and live.
For whatever reason my heart has been broken by living with too much stress. Otherwise, your mind will feed on one’s false hopes and never let you heal. Hope is poison when your heart has been broken. Memories are fixes like drugs. To not ruminate and let go is difficult for my aspie brain, but hope is destructive when your heart is broken. I cannot idealize the past, it is making memories more painful. I cannot make a better future by reliving a made-up past that makes the failures seem alright. I remember how tough it all was by making a list of how it really was. Heartbreak is addictive, I have lost an identity. I want to idolize the past but it was actually awful. My withdrawals with heartache are tricking me, it is addictive like some drugs. Lots of wrong things happened to me. The only way I have survived is by moving forward and not being sentimental. Some people have been shocked by my ability to cleanse things, objects are passed on, people let go including my family which has upset those that believe some things are sacred. I am not superstitious, religious, or clingy. Some people have poor boundaries and trespass on behalf of those I need to let go. Idiots stand in the consequences of what they caused. My mother who was schizophrenic could drift into narcissistic states and used others to attack me by proxy. I learnt to detach from such uncomfortable people and invariably it caused them a lot of trouble. Mental illness shows no mercy and often arrives like unexpected storms, dropping an endless downpour on hope. I just looked for another door. I can imagine something different to the outcomes expected by others even if it is hard on me.
However, I do need downtime. I will stay spitting mad for some time, I need to get the bad experiences from the hospital and my memory bank into something I can handle. Bad nursing experiences from other hospital stays are burnt into my mind. I hate sloppy and careless behaviours when it impacts me. Even the hospital’s chemist messes up my prescription list and creates problems down the line. I do not feel well, I get tired and dizzy easily which is the medications lowering my blood pressure so, they may need to be changed. But, I still mow the lawn, garden, walk to the supermarket, and cook and clean. Illness in my past has not stopped me, I am resilient. I have had a relentless form of heartbreak all my life, now that it is more physical just means more work to fix it. So, through hard work I will adapt and renew, giving up is not an option. I have some paintings to do, I have a reason to pull through. The world is a dark place until you crack it open to find the light.
