Before HeartCare

When my husband suffered his heart attack in December 1988, we were both in shock and disbelief because, of course, you never believe it will happen to you.

As a carer, I had no back up at all. No one in the hospital talked to me about what had happened, until I forced the issue on the day that my husband was due home, and even then it was only a few hurried words. The ward doctor just confirmed that it had been a heart attack, told my husband to go home, take things easy and to come back in six weeks for his stress test. At home, I never let him out of my sight, frightened that he would have another attack. I listened to his breathing when he was asleep to make sure that he was all right.

Six weeks is a long time on your own, and our doctor was not very helpful. We were very much on our own.
My emotions at that time ranged from shock through to crying, and lastly, anger. Anger that more advice was not given out, not just to the heart patient, but also to the carer. We are hurting also and fearful that our loved ones are going to die.