With over 5,000 shares on Facebook, Kevin’s story of what he thought was a typical day is helping people all over the country to start thinking about their health a little differently. Kevin, a handsome, healthy, physically fit for the majority of his life African American male had a heart attack almost out of nowhere. But why? Kevin explains how it all went down in his own words below:
Last Wednesday started pretty much like any other Wednesday for me. Alarm goes off at 5 a.m., throw my chicken sausage on the stove, load up my gym bag, and head down Lake Shore Drive for the gym.
A good 10 to 15 guys had committed for basketball, so the runs should be great. Around 8:15 a.m., after scoring a basket, I found myself struggling a bit for air. For the first time in my life, I called for a substitute. I went to the sidelines and sat down, feeling a lump in my chest. All I could think of was that chicken sausage, and how perhaps it was bad. I was wrong.
I was having a heart attack. A big one. Stage 8 out of 10.
The kind that kills 767,000 people per year.
Now understand clearly, I have been in excellent physical shape most of my life. A three- sport athlete in high school, two- sport athlete in college. Consistent workouts every week. and a lifestyle and business that keeps me constantly on the move and active. Unfortunately, I am also predisposed to a genetic disorder which causes my body to manufacture three times the normal amount of cholesterol that my body needs. If unchecked, this cholesterol can spike and begin to do damage.
After resting against the wall for a good 45 minutes, I gathered myself up and drove myself home. This was around 10:30 a.m. Still feeling discomfort, and still assuming it could be indigestion or food poisoning, I stopped and picked up some Alka-Seltzer and Tums. These were, of course, ineffective. I tried laying down, but my body was in complete disarray. I could not sleep at all.
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Around 6 p.m., I sent a text to my best friend telling him I still wasn’t feeling well and I probably need to go to the hospital. He sent me back a text saying no problem I can take you. Upon arrival, I went to the front desk and told the woman seated there that I was having discomfort in my chest. She gave me a white wristband, and directed me to go sit in area 10. I did so. 5 minutes later, a tall young man called my name, called me to another area, began to put some leads on my chest and wrists and run an electrocardiogram.
He was very jovial and continued to be humorous throughout the entire process.. Until the readings started coming through. He looked at me, looked at the machine, looked back at me, and told me to wait right here. He was going to consult a doctor. When he came back, he came back with both a doctor and a gurney. He instructed me to get on it immediately. I was having an active heart attack.
Here’s the strange part: I’d been having a heart attack since 10 a.m. that morning.
My heart and the rest of my body was so strong and because I’d not subjected to such abuse, that it found a way to keep itself beating. In all reality, I should have died earlier on that court.
30 minutes later I was on a table being operated on. They opened two of my three main arteries to restore blood flow. Please bear in mind that this entire time, I felt no discomfort other than what was in my chest. No panic. No fear. My image of heart attacks has always been limited to Redd Foxx and his fake ones on “Sanford and Son”.
But the look in the eyes of these doctors suggested that this was much more.
Two additional doctors had to be called at their homes to come to the hospital for the procedure as well. There was no time to…