How grief turned into bradycardia

What started as loss and grief turned into an unexpected medical emergency that everyone should be warned about, writes Henry Pawlaczyk..

AMERICAN SINGER IN 1972 B.J. Thomas released the song ‘Billy and Sue‘.

Although it reached number 34 in the United States, few people will remember this tune, but some will remember the phrase:

“He didn’t die from a bullet, but he died from a broken heart.”

On March 8, 1972, I pulled into the driveway of our six-story apartment building and parked under Apartment 4. I went out and looked at the balcony, my lover Catherine and our baby Michael were waiting for me. They had just moved in that day.

I had given the keys to Cath the weekend before.

For fifty-two years, Catherine and I have lived through good times and bad, joyful and wonderful times, and sometimes hardships and pain.

One of the darkest times was when our oldest daughter, 49, was diagnosed with metastatic pancreatic cancer.

Nicolette never saw her 50th birthday.

Nicolette, whose oncologist gave her six months to live, increased this period to six months and two weeks.

As it turned out, this tragedy accelerated Catherine’s decline. He passed away just 15 months later at the age of 70.

bradycardia

Saturday, September 21, 2024, around 20.00 pm

Now I want to talk about this bradycardia and that’s where the song sequence comes into play.

For the six months after Catherine’s passing, I was in and out of grief, suddenly living alone in the remote Goldfields region of Western Australia.

One night I was sitting in front of my computer, doing whatever I was doing, when suddenly I felt a dizziness that I had never felt before. Then he also started feeling nauseated.

I got up to go to the study where I kept my blood pressure medication to find out if I had taken it that day.

My legs were not moving properly while walking; They felt weak and shaky. I was in fear, I had no idea what was happening, my body suddenly felt alien to me.

As it turned out, I had taken my medication. So I unsteadily returned to the living room, sat in my recliner, and tried to relax. But the dizziness started again, much worse than before.

It was so strong that I had to use all my willpower not to faint.

When this spell was broken, I thought to myself: “Damn it, Henry! You’ve been a volunteer paramedic for three years; check your vitals!”

Thus, the blood pressure machine, the oxy pulse meter, the blood sugar level monitor and the temperature reader were born.

The first thing I checked was my blood pressure. It was 101 out of 61.

“This is a very low figure” I thought to myself.

The blood pressure monitor said my pulse was 40.

“Damn, I’m in shit!”

I check my pulse with an oxy/pulse monitor. Oxygen: 96; pulse: 40.

Not good. It’s actually very bad.

I’m calling the hospital. I’m talking to a male nurse.

He asks: “Are you able to drive or should we call an ambulance?”

I told him to call an ambulance if he didn’t see me within 20 minutes.

Laverton Hospital

saturday night

I went there very carefully; They were waiting for me.

At 8.30pm that Saturday night, I was in the emergency room at Laverton Hospital in Western Australia, hooked up to an ECG monitor and a heart specialist from Perth talking to the nurse and me on a large telehealth screen on the wall.

“Nurse, can you show me Henry’s latest reading?” he asks. The nurse goes to the screen with the readings in hand.

The nurse turned to me. “Henry, you’re going to get a pacemaker.” He walked towards the EKG machine.

“Do I have bradycardia?” I asked the nurse. The nurse confirmed my question. He told me he worked in the intensive care unit in Perth for six years but left due to work pressures.

I knew I was in safe hands.

And I could see on the monitor that the adrenaline drip had raised my blood pressure to around 70.

Flying Doctor Service

sunday morning

While I was working as a volunteer ambo, I carried many patients to Laverton Airport and helped them get on the plane. Royal Flying Doctor Service planes.

This time it was me.

I will fly direct to Perth. There was a doctor and a nurse on the small plane.

From the airport an ambulance transported me to Fiona Stanley Hospital; Here I was quickly processed and placed in a private room (all Medicare) waiting for life-saving treatment.

After a short while, the first expert enters; A heart specialist is accompanied by a small team of student doctors.

He then told me that a radiologist would be arriving shortly, but would be back shortly with the results to tell me the next steps.

Radiologist

This guy is smooth. He does his scans and takes me where he is directed.

He said to me (maybe he shouldn’t have, but we got along like old friends from the beginning):

“The upper chamber of your heart is not beating in sync. In fact, it’s not beating regularly at all, and your lower chamber is doing all the work.”

An hour after the radiologist left, the heart specialist returned with a cardiac surgeon and several others. I didn’t know their functions.

Pacemaker

The specialist told me that the electrical impulses to the upper chamber of my heart had failed and that I would need to be fitted with a two-wire pacemaker, one for the upper chamber and the other for the lower chamber. It’s a luxury model, they said.

I was told that the pacemaker was supposed to keep my heart steady at 60 beats per minute.

“Why not 72?” I asked.

He told me they liked 60 beats per minute and that I would live longer because we all only have a certain number of heartbeats in a lifetime.

I loved this explanation.

heart surgeon

monday morning

The cardiac unit is on the seventh floor, and I’m taken on a stretcher to the waiting area, or pre-operative area, where I’m given oral Valium to calm me down.

It’s my turn and I’m let in. A beautiful place full of busy professionals.

Indeed, the heart surgeon could have become a stand-up comedian.

He looked at me kindly and said: “Hello Henry, you are today’s winner of the luxury pacemaker model that will take you from 40 to 60 in less than a second.”

The operation is performed under local anesthesia, meaning you remain awake the entire time. I counted nine needles in my chest area.

A short vertical screen was placed around my neck, so I couldn’t see the surgery, but I could see the surgeon’s face and upper body.

When the injections numbed me, he went to work. We chatted throughout.

I told him that my beloved wife had passed away six months ago, and he said to me: “Yes, you almost died of a broken heart.”

He also said I would be sent home with a monitor on the bedside table and that they could make adjustments from Perth if necessary. I was impressed by the super technology.

tuesday morning

I wheeled myself across an elevated walkway that crossed the street to the “Medihotel” on the seventh floor of the complex.

I am given medications that I am told I will have to take for the rest of my life.

bisoprolol fumarate is a prescription drug that belongs to a class of medications called beta blockers, used primarily to treat high blood pressure (hypertension) and heart failure.

The nurse comes and gives me a train ticket to Kalgoorlie because after having a pacemaker I am not allowed to fly for at least seven days. He also gives me a taxi voucher (all paid for by Medicare).

So who do I call to get back to Laverton from Kalgoorlie (375 kilometers)?

So I called a friend in Kalgoorlie, Rex, a retired police officer of 22 years in Laverton. He said he had to go to Laverton on Wednesday and he would take me.

Wednesday morning and afternoon

I called the taxi company to pick me up at 6:30 in the morning and take me to the train station.

I grabbed something to eat at the cafeteria and boarded The Prospector at 7am.

I am alive and had a wonderful ride down to the Swan Valley, then the wooded Avon Valley with plenty of running water, up to Northam and arrived in Kalgoorlie at 2.30pm.

Rex was waiting for me and I was home at 6:30pm.

Here it is. Maybe heart problem; Laverton Hospital Saturday night 20:30; He is in Perth with a pacemaker and is home at 6.30pm on Wednesday night.

I wrote this because I understand the human condition and want to share the wonderful treatment I received and warn people not to casually recognize red flags about their health, especially the relatively little-known condition of bradycardia.

Symptoms of bradycardia (slow heart rate) often include decreased blood flow; this causes dizziness, lightheadedness, fainting, fatigue, weakness, and shortness of breath, especially with exertion, as well as potential confusion, memory problems, or chest pain. Some people have no symptoms, but if you experience them, see a doctor because it means your heart is not pumping enough oxygen-rich blood.

Note: Very fit athletes or sleepers may have heart rates naturally below 60 bpm without any symptoms; This is normal.