71 And Still Ticking

On Wednesday, July 19th, I suffered a life-threatening ventricular tachycardia. But, as the old saying goes you can’t keep a good man down and you can’t keep me down either.

Diane and I had gone to breakfast, then to Food Lion, and had arrived back home shortly before noon. We had brought the groceries into the house and was unloading the bags when I turned from the refrigerator toward her. A flash of colors spun around in front of me and then everything went black. I regained consciousness when I hit the floor on my stomach. Diane rushed to help me and wanted to call 911. I told her “no.” She helped me to my feet, and I had to pause and lean on the counter as the room was spinning. The dizziness eased and she helped me to my recliner in the living room. Once again, she wanted to call 911 but I was only interested in taking my blood pressure reading before doing anything. She found the BP meter for me and went to call our granddaughter Lily for help. She was at work, so she called her father, our son, Justin, who is a lieutenant for the Salisbury Police Department. I tried to take my blood pressure, but it kept showing “error.”

Justin called and told Diane he was on his way and would take me to the hospital. He called his wife, Misty, and she told him to call 911 instead. It would be quicker, and they had the means to treat me for whatever was wrong. I told Justin later that I should have known there were two women, Diane and Misty, behind the scenes making the right call. Sometimes, us guys get too focused on something, and in this case, could have had a bad outcome.

As I kept trying to get a BP reading, I noticed my heart was racing. So, I tried to take some deep breaths to calm it down to no avail. Then a pain started building in the middle of my chest. Just when it was about to become unbearable it started easing and my pectoralis muscles started tightening. Diane was in the bedroom calling Justin, so I used my cell phone to call 911. I didn’t know that Justin was radioing into them at the same time.

Justin arrived at our house followed by the first responders from the local fire department. They gave me four baby aspirins to take. Still no BP reading. Shortly after this the ambulance arrived.

When the paramedic Skylar came marching into the room it was apparent to all who was in charge. They worked quickly to scan me, and yet, they too could not get a BP reading. Skylar said, “Mr. Crews we need to take you to the hospital.” I agreed and the firemen wheeled me out on a stretcher.

In the ambulance I was sweating profusely but didn’t even notice it. They had to towel me down before the diodes would stick to my chest. Still no BP reading, and my pulse was very weak. She and her assistant attached the adhesive defibrillator pads to my chest and back and started an IV. Skylar said, “Mr. Crews we’re going to inject amiodarone because we have to get your heart back to a normal rhythm. That may not work, and if it doesn’t, we will have to shock you. If we don’t you are going to have a heart attack.” I told her to do whatever they needed. She also gave me a mild sedative so I wouldn’t feel the whole impact of being shocked. My heart was beating 258 times a minute.

Thankfully, when the amiodarone entered my body my heart rate became normal, and there was a good BP reading. Evidently, my heart electrical impulses were going wild, and the fast beating caused my BP to fall to where it couldn’t be recorded. No doubt that low pressure caused me to black out in the kitchen.

We arrived at Novant Health Rowan Medical Center in Salisbury and pulled into the Emergency Room ambulance parking. At the ER they moved me into a room where there were ten or so people waiting to receive me. Dr. Kamdar was leading everyone as they attached things to me and set up equipment designed to keep me alive. Everything became less tense when it became apparent the amiodarone had worked and my vitals were stable. Dr. Kamdar told me they were admitting me to the ICU to run tests and determine what course of treatment I needed.

The nurses and technicians were busy in ICU getting me into the bed and setting up monitoring. It was a flurry of activity as the professionals did the job they do daily, but it was amazing to me.

Dr. Kamdar scheduled for me to have a left heart catheterization the next day with Dr. Meadows. I was convinced my arteries were clogged and it was the fault of the breakfast I had eaten that morning. Of course, if my arteries were clogged it would be the result of many breakfasts I have eaten over the years.

The catheterization was performed in the afternoon and Dr. Meadows told us my arteries were clear and looked good for “someone my age.” There was no blockage and next to no signs of plaque buildup. He told me I did not have coronary artery disease. That was great news! Dr. Meadows explained, “I’m the plumber and I’ve checked your pipes and they are clear and clean. So, now we need to get you to the electrician so he can see what’s happening with your heart’s electrical impulses.” So, around nine o’clock that evening they loaded me into a transfer ambulance and off we went to Novant Health Presbyterian Medical Center in Charlotte. Dr. Bailey is a cardiologist specializing in cardiac electrophysiology and he agreed to take my case. Our son, Jeremy, and his son, Jacob, drove Diane there to stay with me.

The next day a MRI Cardiac Morph with contrast was performed. This and all other tests showed my heart was in sound shape and no problems were found. Dr. Bailey told me they had not determined the cause of the V-Tach and may never find the reason. He said the main action to take was to install a dual ICD (Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator). So, on the 25th, Dr. Hsu inserted the ICD into my upper left chest just below the collar bone. Two leads (wires) were attached, one to my heart's right atrium and one to the right ventricle. An ICD is kind of a pacemaker and defibrillator combined. The pacemaker keeps the heart’s electrical impulses steady, whereas, if there is a V-Tach incident, the ICD will determine within ten seconds whether a defibrillator shock is needed or not. If it is, it will decide how much power is needed to restore the impulses to normal. Dr. Bailey said, “If it shocks you 40% or less of its power, you probably won’t even know it has happened. Now, if it’s 100%, you definitely will feel that.” Going forward, I can live a normal life with few restrictions. The main one is not to be near an arc welder. Another is don’t lay my cell phone on top of my chest where the ICD is for an extended time. The main restriction is, according to NC law, I cannot drive a car for six months until it is seen that I’m not having regular incidents and black out at the steering wheel. After six months with no issues, they will feel confident I can safely drive. So, until the end of January, Diane will be my Uber driver. I couldn’t ask for a better one.

PA McKinsey came in to discuss my release and next steps the morning of the 25th. We talked for about a half hour. She said in reviewing all my tests they did find one small spot in my heart that was consistent with the aftereffects of a viral infection. It’s location was where it could cause a V-Tach incident. She said they had no proof that was the root of my problem, and they would never be 100% sure, but it was the only thing they found in my heart that was out of the normal. Jeremy’s wife, Kelly, came to Charlotte and drove us home. It was good to be home.

So, July 19, 2023, was not the day of my death. That has been kicked down the road. Moments when I’m alone allow it to sink in as to how close I came to “checking out” and how grateful I am for all the care I received in Salisbury and Charlotte. In the ER in Salisbury, Dr. Kamdar told me: “You’ve experienced something that many people do not recover from. You pushed through, stood up and walked to your recliner.” Dr. Meadows said, “If you were a cat, you would have used up seven of your nine lives.” In Charlotte there was Nurse Todd. He only looked after me for a few hours due to scheduling issues. Over that short time, I realized he was a true professional, but he was a no-nonsense guy. He entered my room, introduced himself, and explained the scheduling change. The very next words out of his mouth were, “Do you know how lucky you are?” Yes, Todd, I think I do.

I know patients in a hospital can be scared, medicated, and very ill. Many times, they direct their frustration toward the nurses and doctors who are trying to help them. I made a conscious decision not to do that. My last night in the hospital, a very nice nurse came into my room around 4 a.m. She was very apologetic for waking me to check some vital signs. I told her, “How dare you to come into my room at 4 in the morning, wake me up, to try and save my life! Oh, the horror!!” We both laughed.

Many times, in life we are faced with only two options: Either laugh or cry. I prefer to laugh. While in the hospital I didn’t feel sick, no fever, nothing to make me feel bad. So, laughter prevailed. Justin had driven Diane to the hospital, and they joined me in the ER. He was wearing his Salisbury PD shirt with his name on it. As they were preparing to take me to ICU, the gentleman with the hospital admission office approached Justin and asked him if I was his prisoner. Justin replied, “No, he’s my dad.” Of course, just about everyone there knows Justin and his brother, Jeremy, who is a Rowan County deputy. So, word of this spread and by the time I was in the ICU some of the nurses were calling me, “Crews’ prisoner.” I loved it.

In the ICU, as they were busily getting me settled in, one of nurses asked, “Mr. Crews, what do you prefer us to call you?” I simply replied, “I prefer ‘My Lord,’ or ‘Your Majesty.’” She gave me that cold nurse stare and said, “So, ‘Jerry’ it is.” I had to laugh.

In Charlotte there was Nurse Doris. What a lady. She would enter my room singing and dancing medical instructions for me to do. When it came to her nursing duties she was all business, but other times she was something else. I had trouble sitting up straight when my bed’s head was at an incline. One time, she said, “You must like sliding down to the end of the bed. Every time I see you you’re down there.” I told her, “I can’t help it. I’ve got a slick butt.” She laughed and said, “Okay, that’s your nickname from now on: Slick Butt.”

One nurse came into my room, and it was one of those you-had-to-be-there moments. I became confused and asked a really dumb question. When it dawned on us, Diane, the nurse, and I laughed and laughed. The nurse was laughing so hard she had to grab the side of the bed to keep her balance. Finally, she said, “I needed that. Lord, I needed that today!”

There were many more occasions over those seven days where we were joking and having a good time. I believe it was therapeutic for me and I suspect it gave a bright moment in the lives of some who face life’s grim reality every workday.

In my 71 years I have never felt such love and support as I have from our children, their spouses, our grandchildren, my sister, Peggy and her family, in-laws, and friends. So many of you did for me and it was exactly what was needed. And then there’s Diane, the love of my life. She stayed by my side, sleeping in the room with me on a recliner, and helping me with anything I needed. Yes, she was simply the best. I told her she probably never thought at 71 years old she would be taking care of a baby. Of course, everyone knows I’ve been her baby for over 50 years.

I am eternally grateful to those near and dear to me and the first responders, doctors and their teams, the nurses, technicians, those who delivered my meals, the transporters who wheeled me all over the hospital for tests and exams, and housekeeping. It amazes me how many worked to save this one life. Thank you.

Of course, all those who prolonged my life will now be fully responsible for any hideous and vile thing I do in the future. No good deed goes unpunished.

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