My birthday was last Friday, and to tell you this story, I have to rewind to Thursday afternoon. It all connects eventually, trust me.

So, the day before, Thursday, June 26, my birthday eve, the last day of my 28th year, I wanted to take it relatively easy. One of the few things I needed to do was run an errand for the paper down at the Civic Center. While there, I saw Jimmy, the head of Tama EMS, and he wanted his picture taken with this new doodad of his. He invited a couple others in the photo as well, the first being the Mayor, another EMS worker, and this woman I didn’t know. I snapped the picture and thought nothing more of it, but the young lady wanted to see the picture I took. When I showed it to her, she said she didn’t care for it, and that she didn’t look good, I said she looked fine, and I said I’ve taken much worse pictures of people. I don’t think I helped much, but nevertheless. Jimmy then introduced me to the woman as she was the new EMS driver, Sarah Cretin.

About 10 hours later, I’m at home watching NYPD Blue when I realize it’s a hair before midnight, and I need to do my diabetes stuff. So, I take my blood sugar, tighten a belt around my arm, and shoot up my insulin. As I was putting this stuff away, I felt my heart flutter. I have two heart conditions, so I didn’t think it was anything special, but I put on my smartwatch to check my heart rate just in case. After a while, I was still not feeling the best, and I grabbed my pulse ox to see if I was missing anything. Time goes on, and I’m sweating, I think nothing of it at first because it’s summer, but it’s a lot of sweat. I get nauseous for a moment, but that passes, and is replaced by extreme lightheadedness, the room is just spinning. I finally mentioned to my Ma what was going on, she got me water and then called 911.

Going outside to meet the ambulance was easier said than done as every time I looked right the room seemed to go left. When I eventually made it out the front door, I saw the Toledo Police Lieutenant getting out of a squad car. The first thought that went through my head was, I wonder what he’s doing here. I sat on the bench and talked to the Lt. and the new young officer with him, periodically looking at the heart rate on my watch. I felt like I was in a fog, like I couldn’t think right, my heart was still fluttering, sweat was pouring, everything was spinning, and suddenly I was hungry and tired. Either way, I made sure to tell the young officer that the article I was writing about him should be published soon. I also kept introducing them to my family members who kept popping out one by one.

When the Toledo ambulance showed up, I was still on the bench, I looked down, and my watch suddenly said 149. Later, when I checked the app on my phone, it just looked like a vertical line. My heart rate had been around 70 or 80 and then boom it went straight up.

In the ambulance, shirt pulled up, a 12 lead being put on me, I think well, if I’m going to the ER, I might as well get the book. You see, the last time I was in the ER, I met a doctor who wrote his own books, after that visit I bought the first one, so I thought if he was working I could get him to sign it. So, I texted my sister, who was planning to drive my parents behind the ambulance, to run in and grab the book. Sitting in the ambulance, a fog-filled head, I received a profane reply, but she got it anyway. Sadly, he wasn’t working, but still.

On the way to the ER, I talked and tried to stay awake. I tried to remember all the different medical conditions I had. After I listed a couple, I just said, well those are the big ones anyway. Also, since I knew nausea and throwing up was a sign of a heart attack, I kept saying how I was hungry because I thought it was a relevant symptom of my heart problem. I also mentioned at one point that we couldn’t tell Jimmy from Tama EMS about this because I had already told him the next time that I needed to be rushed to the ER, that he could take me.

At the hospital, they started to wheel me out of the ambulance on the gurney, and you won’t believe who the first person I saw was, Sarah Cretin. They are wheeling me along, and I say, “Hello, Sarah Cretin.” With a slight gesture to my current situation I say, “Is this some sort of fate payback for me taking that bad picture of you, Sarah Cretin?” I believe she said yes, but I can’t remember for sure.

In a little room, some nurses come in and out, then my family comes back like a herd of buffalo with Sarah Cretin in tow. My Ma sits on the left side of my hospital bed, and in a not-so-veiled whisper, I say, “Remember I told you of that woman who didn’t like the picture I took? Sarah Cretin?” Ma nods, as Sarah Cretin wheels in a computer on a cart. I point and again whisper, “That’s Sarah Cretin.”

Sarah Cretin helped get me checked in and asked for my birthday. I asked the time, then said, “Today,” as it was around one in the morning at this time. Sarah Cretin printed off a hospital bracelet for me. I thanked Sarah Cretin, every time using her full name.

The doctor came in with a woman named Jasmine taking notes, I retold my story of what brought me there. And made sure Jasmine wrote down that I was hungry, because again for some reason I thought this was a big symptom.

As the hours passed, I fell asleep for a moment or two and then woke up again, and that’s when the worst happened, my family started to talk. Soon, we were laughing, and acting like fools, in the hospital room, as the phlebotomist was trying to take my blood.

When the doctor came back in, he said he thought the issue could possibly have something to do with my blood sugars. My Ma said a simple curt, “No.” Without skipping a beat or even glancing at Ma the doctor changed tactics and said, “Or it’s your Afib acting up, that is most likely what it is.”

With my ticker back on track, and a diagnosis in hand. We were set to check out. I got all of my EKG stickies ripped off, leaving my usually hairy body covered in little bald spots. I then grabbed my shirt which was so soaked with sweat, it felt like I’d worn it in the rain. We started to walk out, past the front desk, and I said goodbye to who was sitting there by saying, “See ya later, Sarah Cretin.”

I wasn’t expecting to spend the first five or six hours of my birthday in the ER, but truthfully I had an alright time. All in all, not my worst birthday. Maybe, this will be how I spend my 30th, If I do, something tells me Sarah Cretin will be there, and Jimmy will have me in his ambulance.