September 1992 Article in Reader's Digest

What a Heart Attack Taught Me
by Jim Lehrer

At four that December morning, I woke up with a dry tightness in my chest. My wife Kate, and I had been to a Mexican restaurant near our home in Washington, D.C., and sometimes the enchilada and beans exact a price. I woke Kate up and got out of bed. I drank several glasses of water. Surely that would do the trick. “Let’s call a doctor,” said Kate. “No, no” said I. “It’ll be fine in a minute.” I got back in bed. The tightness did not disappear. Eventually I dozed off, but before long was awake again. Kate said to call a doctor. Once more I said no. It had not gotten any worse. (Where I got that stupidly incorrect information I have no idea.) Later that day, December 11, 1983, I had a Bloody Mary and a plate of food and made a small talk at a holiday brunch. My chest was still tight. Was that a tingling in my left arm? Isn’t that a symptom of a heart attack? That evening, Kate and I went out to dinner. She insisted that we go to a hospital or at least call my doctor. I insisted that any minute everything was going to be all right. No hospitals. Bad things happened to Lehrers in hospitals. They died. Back home, I took a sleeping pill and went to bed, but remained wide awake. At midnight, I finally got scared. Indigestion should not last this long. Rolling Truck. Kate phoned the doctor and described my symptoms. I was told to go quickly to the nearest hospital. I insisted on driving. I also insisted on smoking. I had a feeling my 30 years as an avid smoker might soon be over, one way or another. I was determined to go down and out with some tobacco smoke in my lungs. In the emergency room, a nurse put me on an EKG machine. It revealed nothing, but because the chest and arm problems persisted, the doctor sent me to intensive care. I was given something to sleep, and sleep I did. In the morning, the tightness and tingling were gone. I had no idea why. Nor did anybody else. Tests were being run. I went to sleep that night with no trouble. But just after 5 am, I awoke with something crushing down on my chest. It had the weight and ferocity of a truck. My left arm was throbbing with pain, as if a knife were slicing through it. I grabbed my arm and doubled over. A nurse stuck something in my left arm, and another forced something under my tongue. The truck kept rolling over my chest, and the knife continued to slice. I moaned and rocked. Sweat poured across my face. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. The nurses kept mopping my face and talking to me. And then it was over. The truck drove away; the knife disappeared. I lay back down on the bed. “You made it”, said one of the nurses. Made what?…………… “You just had a heart attack.”