It’s been a weird and challenging last few months here on the edge of the Kingdom of Fife.
In March I lost my Dad . It was expected after his cancer diagnosis in October 2023. But still heart-wrenching and confusing all the same.
Then, last week I was diagnosed with a heart condition after collapsing at a bus stop.
Before both of these events I moved to Tayport in January after starting at The Courier newspaper.
These have both been definite silver linings in my life. The views are cracking, the sea air good for the soul and the commute a short one.
But what about the heart condition?
I’m not one for being dramatic, so I will state first that my heart condition is one of the more benign ones.
I have been diagnosed with apical hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (HOCM). Essentially, the muscle near the bottom of my heart is thicker than it should be.
This means my heart can have a bit of a hard time pumping blood. I was totally unaware of it’s struggles until last Tuesday.
It was a mild morning when I left the flat on that day. I was late for the bus and therefore, work.
It’s only a 10-minute walk to the nearest bus stop, but instead I ran on this occasion to ensure I would make it in time.
I’m not as fit as I used to be right now, so running feels hard. However, this felt harder than it should.
I reached the bus stop before the bus and on stopping felt instantly dizzy. This isn’t an unusual issue for me. Although, it probably should have been treated as much.
Often, after exerting myself after running or cycling I have had these dizzy spells, recovering by bowing my head for a minute or even crouching down on my hunches.
I placed my hands on my knees and then everything went black.
Wait this is not my bed
I had that nice weekend long lie feeling of dozing in my bed. I felt cosy and warm as I lay down.
However, there was a nagging feeling that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
This is what prompted me to open my eyes to a scene of utter confusion.
I was lying on the pavement as a lady approached me from her parked car.
I found it difficult to understand what her words meant. I then saw the 42 bus try to overtake the parked car, with the lady waving it down.
She told the bus driver that I had been waiting for the bus and that I needed to get on. I tried to persuade her that I would get the next one as I struggled to my feet.
But I wasn’t sure if I was making sense. The driver waved me onto the bus for free and I sat near the back, feeling the eyes of about 30 passengers looking my way.
I was sweating profusely and felt sick to my core.
By the time we had hit the Tay Bridge I felt less dizzy and had just about cleared my eyes of sweat.
No one needed to know that I had taken a tumble and could still make work on time.
My blood sugars were probably low after foregoing breakfast. I had been a bit silly and not eaten enough. It was just an embarrassing mistake.
However, as I gulped from a coke bottle, I realised I should probably get checked out. Just in case I had banged my head when I landed.
I still don’t know how I landed, but I have no cuts or bruises. Did I just peacefully lie down on the pavement?
Blood tests strike again
That’s how I found myself on my way to Ninewells Hospital, dropping crumbs from a messy almond croissant all over the back seats of another bus.
I eventually found the A&E department. I was determined to return to the DC Thomson offices by the afternoon, having received the all clear.
By 2pm I was in a bed and hooked up to a ECG on a busy ward. I couldn’t get internet or signal on my phone, which was cracked after taking my weight earlier that day.
I nearly had another episode as a nurse gave me my second blood test of the day. I’m not good with blood tests and tried to laugh it off.
‘I’m a bit dizzy haha…Actually I’m really feeling quite dizzy.’
My veins were not playing ball on this occasion as I felt myself feel more and more nauseous.
The catalyst of me nearly passing out was the canula that was inserted very speedily and forcefully into my wrist.
Remaining conscious, I was moved to the Coronary Care Unit. I was still attached to the ECG and experiencing peeing in a cardboard bottle for the first time.
I finally had internet and was watching television, trying to avoid looking at or thinking about the canula in my wrist.
My brother, my Mum and girlfriend entered the room a couple of hours later, finding me sitting in bed shouting answers at the Chase while wired up and topless.
Discharged with a diagnosis that is hard to remember
I’ll save you the details of the night and the next morning. Blood pressure was taken multiple times and I’m thankful to the doctors and nurses who looked after me.
Unsurprisingly, they were comforting, kind and reassuring.
They were particularly patient when trying to explain high troponin levels in my blood or discussing specific heart issues.
I was discharged on Wednesday evening with a new diagnosis, new medication and the promise I will receive a MRI scan as an out patient.
Apical HOCM can be passed down the generations, so an offer of genetic testing was also discussed.
The next day I was fitted with a Holter monitoring device that I have to return on Wednesday.
In honesty, I have to perform a Google search each time to remember what the heart condition is called.
I’m not too downhearted (pun intended) though. This is an opportunity to try live a little better after several years of probably not looking after myself as well I could.
Less stress and more sleep are the big aims for me. As I said, there is no drama here.
Maybe, leaving for the bus with plenty of time to spare might help as well. Although, fainting could get you a free fare into Dundee (Disclaimer: don’t try that at home).
Pushing myself hard might be out of the question – for at least a while. Only more tests and an update from the doctors will give me a better idea of what I can or can’t do.
There is also an aspect of relief. The slight chest pains, nausea after exercise and unusual sensations are just that – unusual.
Lessons have been learned and for once I will preach one to you – the readers of this blog. Please don’t leave it to chance when it comes to your health.
Some Very Scottish Adventures 