One year ago, I was one of millions of patients recovering from a mild case of COVID. After 3 weeks, I was back operating when I experienced a significant burning pain in my left lateral chest. It felt pleuritic, but was not affected by breathing or position. It resolved after 5 minutes, but due to the severity and unique character of the pain, I was encouraged to go to the emergency department at Baylor University Medical Center. Like most physicians, I am great at ignoring my symptoms. However, this clearly felt like something potentially catastrophic, so I agreed.
At the emergency department, my electrocardiogram was absolutely normal, as was my troponin. Incidentally, I had no family history of heart disease, my body mass index was 23 kg/m2, and on admission my cholesterol was 152 with a low-density lipoprotein of 93 mg/dL. Considering hypercoagulability, my doctors ordered computed tomography of my chest, which was normal, as were a repeat electrocardiogram and troponin. Suddenly my pain returned and I was diaphoretic, but the electrocardiogram remained normal. My friends who were now my doctors were mystified. That’s when my nurse, Cecilia Flores, spoke up and said, “Are you guys kidding? He’s having a myocardial infarction—cath him.” And they did.
I was found to have an acute clot with a 100% occlusion of my circumflex coronary. I received a stent, my ejection fraction was normal the next day, and I was playing golf 4 days later.
We spend so much of our professional lives with our colleagues that it’s easy to take their talent and dedication for granted. Then one day your life depends on those traits and you develop a more profound respect for them. If we could all share that respect, I am certain we would treat each other with more deference. Who would have guessed my nurse would have been my difference maker?
After the event, I asked Ms. Flores how she knew my diagnosis and she related that her husband had died at 38 of a non–ST-elevation myocardial infarction. Obviously I am appreciative of all my friends/colleagues/doctors/nurses who took care of me. But without Cecilia Flores, I could easily be a cardiac cripple or dead. It is a sad irony that my good fortune was an indirect result of her family’s tragedy. I will be forever grateful to her.
Thank you, Cecilia Flores.
Disclosure statement/Funding
The author reports no funding or conflicts of interest.