The Big One

This is the Big One Elizabeth!

This is not a baseball story. But since baseball is apparently the center of my life, it begins with baseball.

On Tuesday night the Giants were clinging to a half game lead over the Cubs and were playing the Astros who were just one game back. Astros lead off the first with back to back home runs to open the game. Giants came back in the bottom of the inning with a three run answer.

Eve was out at a meeting and the boys and I had settled in for a night of baseball together. As the Giants were mounting their response I was whooping it up as only a slightly off-center father can do. I was teaching my boys the fine art of balancing the act of cheering with that of being a raving lunatic.

As the Giants succeeded my heart started pounding. No, really pounding. In fact it was pounding so hard that short of strenuous exercise, I don't ever remember feeling it pound quite so hard. I experienced some mild pain in the general area and shortly thereafter felt numbness in my arm.

I sat down. I stopped cheering. I calmed myself down. I paid close attention to my body trying to determine what was happening. Pain not terrible. Still alive. Numbness improving. Heart no longer pounding at a rapid pace. Pain definitely still there. Am I OK? I'm OK. I'm not sure.

Not being one to rush to judgment, I briefly thought about calling 911 but quickly concluded that that was way more fuss than I was up for and besides we were only in the second inning at this point. I said nothing to the boys.

After a few minutes I got cold. Really cold. I quickly put on a coat and threw a heavy blanket over my body. By now I was shivering almost uncontrollably. My body was convulsing from the shivers. The boys looked semi concerned but frankly were more attuned to the baseball game. Within a few minutes I got warm again and even worked up a bit of sweat. I removed my extra padding and my body temperature returned to normal.

Boys went to bed. Eve came home. Finished my chores. Talked to my wife. Went to bed. Remember briefly thinking to myself if this might be the last time I put myself to bed. Numbness and shivers were gone but the pain was still there. I lay in bed debating with myself about the seriousness of what happened. I concluded that the lingering pain was really no different from the soreness I feel after any exercise. The only difference being I hadn't done any exercise.

I slept like a baby, woke up and went to work early. Pain hadn't changed. No worse, no better. Went to lunch and started to imagine the headlines:

HARRIS' JUDGMENT ERROR RESULTS IN OTHERWISE PREVENTABLE DEATH

Now 18 hours into this episode, I decided for the first time that I would publicly acknowledge what happened. I called a friend of mine who is a Cardiologist. Nice to have friends. Unfortuantely his voicemail answered. Decided to send him an e-mail instead of leaving a message. Spent the first four paragraphs talking about the success of the Giants and included something to the effect of "oh by the way, I'm wondering if I had a heart attack last night."

The process of articulating the events outside of my own brain and onto the computer, allowed for a more rationale analysis. I concluded it really couldn't hurt to see a doctor. Within minutes of hitting the "Send" button to my friend I walked out the door and headed for my doctor's office.

I walked in at 1:30 as the office was returning from lunch. I asked for an appointment with my doctor. Sorry he's busy. His associate was available, but not until 3:00. Would I come back? I said I was feeling a little anxious and that I would wait with the hope that she could see me sooner. I got a scowl from the receptionist, but she took my information, my co-pay, found my file and pointed to the waiting room. "Oh by the way, what's the problem," she asked? "Chest pains," was the answer. The receptionist was not impressed.

I sulked away to the corner of the reception room, pulled out my book and prepared myself to read for an hour or two. Within 10 minutes both doctors came bursting through the lobby door together to see me. Apparently the term "chest pains" is some secret code that receptionists don't know, but doctors do. I was ushered into a room. Shirt removed. Poked a bit. Asked about my parents’ health. Hooked up to an EKG. Doctor's words say "everything is fine"; doctor's face said "I'm worried."

Doctor recommends that I got to the hospital for more tests. I decline the ambulance and volunteer to drive the 2 miles myself. She calls ahead. As I walk into the ER there are 10 hospital employees milling around the central station. I say, "Hi my name is Greg Harris," and in unison they all turn around, look at me as if ready to crack open my chest. Somewhat disappointed that I'm standing on my own a small contingent of just 4 of them escort me instantly to a room, remove my shirt and beginning asking questions, attaching wires, and looking me over.

Doctor follows in a moment or two and asks the same questions. He orders blood work and chest x-rays. Having concluded that there was little risk of me dropping dead on the spot, I was left to my book awaiting the results of my tests.

With cell phone in hand I decided to call Eve. No one home. Called her cell phone but of course she only turns it on when she wants to make a call. I, on the other hand, am chewed out if I'm not instantly available on mine. I leave a message with no details and ask her to call me.

She calls me about an hour and a half later (Apparently there were other more pressing things going on the house than returning my call). With a hint of "make this quick" in her voice I told her where I was and what had happened. She said "I'll be right there." No, don't come down here. I'm reading my book waiting for tests and I don't need you here. She agreed with my logic and hung up. Called back 10 minutes later with more questions and again suggested that she come to the hospital. With a hint of crankiness I said "no." Ten minutes later Scottie calls me on the verge of tears and says he wants to come to the hospital. "No," I tell him, "I'm fine I'm just hanging out waiting for the tests to prove that I'm fine." Clearly Eve was pulling out all the stops in an effort to get permission to come visit me in the hospital because ten minutes later Kevin calls with the same request.

Another hour goes by and I get a call from my cardiologist friend. "You don't need to go to the doctor," he is prepared to tell me. "Too late, I'm already here." He changes his story and says "good decision." After three hours of life hanging with the ER folks with wires hanging off my chest and needles stuck in my arm, I'm given a clean bill of health.

No one is too sure just what happened but neither my cardiologist friend nor the ER doctor sounded as if my sequence of events was all that unusual. Both told me that the pain that wouldn't go away was the best clue that I was fine. Heart pain is severe but quick and doesn't linger like the sore muscle I was describing.

Called home. I'm coming home. I opened the front door and for the first time in memory my kids came running toward me to greet me "Daddy's home!" Amazingly they even beat the dogs to welcome me at the front door.

The rest of the evening may have been the most perfect night of my life. I was treated like a king (no, that's not normal). I was encouraged to take it easy. No chores. No dishes to do. Meanwhile Eve had cooked enough food to feed the entire ER in anticipation of my return. I munched dinner while watching some recorded TV shows and that was followed by the second game against the Astros. "Can I get you anything Dad?" was a constant theme throughout the night.

Eve declared that I was no longer allowed to eat cheese. Presumably she meant for the rest of my life. I had my blood work report within reach and assured her that my cholesterol was good and that I would be eating even the stinkiest of cheeses. "Well, what did the doctor say you need to do differently in your life?" "Nothing, he said I'm fine." Clearly not happy with the diagnosis, Eve insisted that I go to bed early.

The next morning the stiffness in my chest was still there but was now beginning to subside. Eve asked how I was feeling. She got a "fine" and I was promptly asked to do a chore or two. Life was back to normal.

Yes, the Giants won on Tuesday and Wednesday but dropped a "heart breaker" last night. Thankfully the loss last night with a lead going into the 9th inning caused no further heart breakage for this Giant fan.

Greg Harris

September 24, 2004