Abroad

The following spring, he hired a coach with two drivers for an eight-day holiday in Italy. The day before departure, he went for his regular check-up and prescription. The doctor did a routine ECG and asked for a second opinion. A telephone call from my husband meant that I had to abandon my packing, collect him from the surgery and take him to James Paget Hospital as he had had a mild heart attack. When we arrived, we found that a bed was ready for him in the Cardiac Ward.

Now, I can smile away the shocking worry that I felt at the time. My husband refusing to stay in hospital, with the doctors and nurses suggesting that it would be better to be there than go on holiday and die. We had to wait for a specialist doctor to authorise his discharge.

Six years on and my husband is keeping his body in the "switched off" state that he promised his doctor. He takes his pills and medicine, and his chest discomfort is at a minimum. He is still apologetic and will try not to worry his GP at the surgery.

As his carer, I help him with his involvement with HeartCare. He is also a volunteer ambulance driver.
At home, we enjoy a healthy and balanced diet. I police his temperament when there is a traffic jam caused by an automatic rail crossing barrier, the raising of a bridge, road works or even stupid drivers (male or female). I remind him that stress is not good for his heart or my hypertension.