After the heart attack
Last week, on December 2, at 8:10 AM, I had my first heart attack. I was at home, helping to get my nephew Luke get ready to leave for school, when out of nowhere I felt a powerful pain in my chest, like a fireball was burning me from the inside. I told my wife LeAnne I didn’t feel well and sat down. She called 911, and within five minutes of her call, the EMTs from the Renton Fire Department arrived and started talking to me. This was not the first time I felt something that I thought might be a heart attack. Almost a year before I had a numbness in one arm which quickly spread to my other arm and then to my chest. It was much less intense and faded after an hour. LeAnne drove me to the ER that day, and after many tests and scans they were unable to find a root cause. But this attack was very different. By the time the EMTs arrived, the attack had intensified to the worst pain I can remember feeling, and spread to my arms, hands, neck, and head. LeAnne noticed I was sweating and said