It was 4 a.m. on a Saturday when my partner, Michael, began complaining of heartburn. An antacid didn’t help, and the pain was getting worse, so after a few hours he decided we should go to the emergency room. He’d had a small heart attack five years earlier, so we had reason to worry this could be a repeat.
As I put my coffee cup in the kitchen sink, I heard a loud bang from the living room. I ran out to find Michael facedown on the floor and convulsing.
I somehow dialed 911. I remember screaming our address and the operator yelling at me to slow down. Holding the phone I sprinted into the hallway of our apartment building, pounding on our neighbors’ doors and begging for help.
I didn’t know it at the time, but Michael was having what’s called a widowmaker heart attack — one of the most lethal types of heart attack.
Widowmaker Heart Attack Defined
A typical heart attack involves a blockage in an artery, which reduces or stops blood flow to the heart. This causes injury to the heart muscle and requires immediate medical attention to get blood flow restored, but it’s usually not life-threatening.
A widowmaker (which, despite the name, can affect women as well as men) is a particularly severe type of heart attack. This kind of heart attack involves complete blockage of the heart’s biggest artery, the left anterior descending artery (LAD), which supplies blood and oxygen to the entire front of the heart.
Partial blockage of the LAD can cause the heart’s electrical system to go haywire, creating an irregular rhythm called ventricular fibrillation. With full blockage, the heart will stop completely, a condition known as sudden cardiac arrest.
The survival rate for someone who experiences cardiac arrest outside a hospital setting is low — under 10 percent.
The increased presence of compact machines called AEDs (automatic external defibrillators) in public places has also made a difference. An AED can shock a heart back into a normal rhythm during cardiac arrest.
You can now find AEDs in airports, gyms, restaurants, office buildings, and many other locations, with voice prompts and pictures that show people without medical training how to use the devices.
“A decade ago, there weren’t nearly as many defibrillators hanging on walls in public venues as there are now. It’s very comforting. These are what save lives,” says Dawn Kershner, DO, a cardiologist at The Heart Center of Mercy Medical Center in Baltimore.
‘Breathe, Michael, Breathe!’
Back in our apartment, Michael’s face was blue and his eyes were fixed. He was actively dying. I kept yelling, “Breathe, Michael, breathe!”
The 911 operator told me to get Michael onto his back to perform CPR. Could I roll him over with help from my neighbor Robin? He weighed 200 pounds and stood at 6’2”. This would be very difficult.
Somehow, we managed to get him into position, and guided by the 911 operator we started chest compressions. “Hard and fast! Press as hard as you can,” the operator kept insisting. He counted with us: “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Again! 1, 2, 3 … .” On and on. I remember hearing the ambulance sounds — very faint at first, then stronger.
We performed eight excruciating minutes of CPR before the paramedics arrived.
A Sudden, Surreal Experience
Since Michael’s heart attack I’ve spoken with other women who’ve administered CPR on a partner in cardiac arrest, and like me they say it was a surreal, out-of-body experience.
Kristin Flanary, a teacher, social media content creator, and advocate for caregivers, performed CPR on her husband, Will, after he went into cardiac arrest in his sleep. Because she was recovering from neck surgery, she was unable to move him to the floor, as a 911 operator advised, and had to perform chest compressions on their bed for 10 minutes.
The experience left a lasting mark on her.
“I don’t know why more people are not talking about how traumatic it is to do CPR on someone — let alone your loved one,” she says.
Healthcare executive Christina Wagener, DNP, a former nurse practitioner, performed CPR on her husband, a marathon runner, for about three minutes on their bed until paramedics arrived.
“I was so used to performing CPR — it’s what I did for my job — so I yelled out the count as if I was at work,” she recalls.
Medical Help Arrives
The paramedics used paddles to shock Michael’s heart; after three tries, a faint pulse returned.
In the hospital emergency room, a medical team went into high gear to treat his heart attack and save his life, placing two stents in the main artery of his heart to unblock the LAD.
Hours passed, and all our friends started arriving at the hospital. His brother and sister drove hours from Pennsylvania to be with us, knowing the situation was dire.
Just before midnight, Michael’s blood pressure began dropping quickly. He would need ECMO (extracorporeal membrane oxygenation), a life support treatment that temporarily takes over the function of the heart and lungs when the organs are too sick to work on their own.
Michael’s ICU room suddenly became an operating room, as the surgeon made an incision in his leg and inserted a tube in the groin that would now pump his blood.
It was our last and only option.
What Survival Can Look Like
After a few weeks in the hospital, Michael was able to go home. But that wasn’t the end of the ordeal — not for him, and not for me.
Michael had sustained a traumatic brain injury as a result of his cardiac arrest. Even after intense cognitive rehabilitation he still needed assistance with everyday tasks. While his sense of humor is still there, he’s become emotionally distant. He’s less social, prefers staying in, and relies on routine.
As for me, I began living in fear that Michael would have another serious heart attack. I kept having flashbacks to our ordeal, experiencing insomnia, exhaustion, and depression.
Melanie Longhurst, PhD, a psychologist at Texas Tech Physicians of El Paso, says that for co-survivors like me, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is not uncommon.
All this took a toll on Michael’s and my relationship. “You might think, if I love this person, I shouldn’t feel resentment or regret or sadness, but that’s not true,” says Dr. Longhurst.
This journey taught me that being a co-survivor means recognizing and healing from the trauma we both endured — discovering that I, too, must survive even if that means doing something that feels impossible, like separating from a loved one.
Sachin Agarwal, MD, PhD, creator of the NeuroCardiac Comprehensive Care Clinic at NewYork-Presbyterian/Columbia University Irving Medical Center in Manhattan, says that caregiving is an act of love and a significant challenge.
“Caregiver burnout is very real, and sustaining caregiving over the long term requires a person to acknowledge their own needs and vulnerabilities,” he says.
Dr. Agarwal encourages caregivers to care for themselves as much as they do for their loved ones — to seek out support groups, counseling, and respite when possible.
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