My heart got ripped apart three weeks ago today, so happy anniversary

I blame the apple turnover. I’d been fine until then, awaiting a scheduled heart operation. I’d been out shopping with my folks for their anniversary the following day and also made a bara brith and an american spiced carrot traybake for visiting relatives. I must still have their anniversary card somewhere…
A sudden tightness and pain in my chest, and I collapsed onto the floor unable to panic. Flooded with panic and alone in my flat I managed to phone my parents and ask them to get an ambulance, explaining I couldn’t breathe, both arriving with minutes and before sinking once more to the floor I had the foresight to at least open my front door. I was terrified I’d lose consciousness and no-one would be able to get in.
It gets hazy after that. I began throwing up. Mum told the ambulance we needed ‘blues and twos’. I passed my neighbour downstairs as I was taken out on a stretcher, saying ‘oh, hello….’ Holding onto the oxygen mask like a scene from Blue Velvet. Ambulance rides are bumpy and uncomfortable and I don’t know why I thought it would be different. Getting mum to phone work and explain what was happening so they could make arrangements. Trying to explain to my parents where my newly signed will was kept.
‘This is all very Casualty’ I thought, as we pushed through the double doors at A&E, to be met by the nursing team. The ambulance staff stayed to hold a drip for me, I kept throwing up and then apologising for it being ‘unseemly’ and kept getting asked my name and if I knew where I was. I told the nurse I couldn’t have my surgery yet because I hadn’t had my hair done and it needed touching up with red highlights.
‘Sometimes the anaesthetic turns it pink’ she said. ‘Oh I’d quite like that …’ I replied.
My parents had a conversation in the corridor with the surgeon. I can’t remember what he said to me except that they were going to operate immediately. ‘Oh that’s nice’ I think I said. It’s only now I’ve found out my aortic valve had ripped apart.
I was introduced to the anaesthetist, an eccentric but kindly man who made me laugh before wiring me up to all sorts of drips and I was taken into the operating theatre which was full of people and very, very bright. Like in The X Files when people get probed by aliens. Which may have been what I was thinking as the anaesthetic kicked in and a handsome doctor who looked about sixteen told me everything would be OK…
Three weeks ago today. I still owe my parents an anniversary card. And, along with the amazing NHS and ambulance staff, so very, very much more …

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