Roger Zee Memoirs
2016 Heart Attack 01 12/26/20
I live in mortal fear of losing my life. For nearly ten years now, I estimate I beat away the Grim Reaper with the nine lives of almost three cats! Auto wrecks, driving down one way streets wrong, apartment fires, multiple cancers, and a five-day heart attack! But now with the advent of Covid-19, I really wonder if my number's finally up... Hence the reason and urgency for writing these memoirs, "Life and times of a Pandemic Musician." B-|
I could never handle success. And I truly hate failure. In reality, I just can't deal with anything, LOL! Hence the moniker, "The King of Denial." ;)
As usual, this story begins with an annual physical, the first with my new WestMed primary care physician / endocrinologist, Dr. Kenneth Weiser. I really like his easy going, "laissez faire" attitude -- kind of like a Hippie Orthodox Jew! He always lays out my options without getting me too worked up! So on this visit, primarily to deal with my diabetes issues, he asks me to take off my shirt and on his way over, he stops, listens, and says, "Do you know you have a heart murmur?" "What's that?" I say and he explains it's a leaky heart valve. That's exactly why I hate going to my annual check up! New year, new disease... :(
So Dr. Weiser gives me an EKG test and then sets up an appointment for a heart ultrasound. My usual luck with these things comes to pass. The young woman screws up the test and the attending physician has trouble reading and making measurements. Reminds me of judging figure skating! Dr. Weiser can't really make out portions of it either. So he gives me the option of getting a more sophisticated but more expensive exam. I pass. What the Hell! I'm a fourth degree Black Belt in Taekwondo. I feel fine. Yup, the "King of Denial" strikes again... ;)
So life goes on... At work at RBS in Stamford, CT, my buddy Malcolm Chesworth and I walk up and down the steps and around the indoor parking lot twice a day. It gives us a chance to bond and decompress in a very high stress environment. Malcolm's got almost ten years on me but over time, I find myself huffing and puffing just to keep up! :-O
Over a very hot July, I run out of breath on my way walking back up Lake Street in White Plains, NY from the bodega. Some days, I need to stop twice and lean on a street sign just to catch my breath. I can't figure out what the f*ck's wrong with me! I finally end up quiting my Taekwondo training because I just can't keep up any more. :(
That summer, I run the Fourth of July and Memorial Day Jams for Jim Stallone at the Yonker's Yacht Club, an oxymoron if I ever heard one! To get there from Warburton Avenue, you need to carry your equipment up and down many flights of stairs to cross over the railroad tracks. When the "End of Summer Jam" finishes, I can't even make it up the first flight of stairs. Too short of breath. I hold on to the guard rail with one hand and throw the other over my drummer Rudy Feinauer's shoulder. Now that's a wake up call! But of course I ignore it, LOL! ;)
It all comes to a head on Saturday 10/29/16 at the Victor's Hawthorne Jam featuring Wayne Fornabaio. As I walk down the two short flights of stairs from my apartment with my equipment, I suddenly feet faint, completely out of breath, and very flushed. I need to lean up against the outside wall for a few minutes before I can make the second trip. But the show must go on! =^_^=
After I load into the club and finish setting up the PA and my bass amp, my partner Rudy comes over and asks if I feel all right. I tell him about my little "spell" and assure him I will soldier through. But I would need a little more of his help running the Jam that night. And so it went. Rudy and I talked at the end of the evening and he made me promise I would go to WestMed Urgent Care in White Plains the next morning. And I did. :)
They kept me in Urgent Care for over three hours taking blood twice and giving me two EKG's. They even send me for a chest x-ray. Finally Dr. M, the head of the unit, sits me down in her back office and says she wants to immediately call an ambulance and send me over to White Plains Hospital. WTF? She explains I'm in the middle of multiple small heart attacks. I ask her how's that possible? Other than a little shortness of breath last night, I feel fine. :-O
Dr. M says they call it a "silent heart attack." Because I'm a diabetic, I don't feel a thing. Wow! I explain that I always picture a heart attack like on TV, where a guy clutches his chest, makes horrible faces, shakes all over, and then flops to the ground! She says here they judge a heart attack by elevated cardiac enzymes on the blood test. That shows your heart's working overtime, just way too hard! :(
She tries to convince me to leave in an ambulance but I flat out refuse. I explain I parked in WestMed's pay lot and asked her who's going to drive my car home, you? I'll bet they tow it! Dr. M starts to get really upset. She says, "If you don't get in that ambulance right now, you probably won't live to see tomorrow!" "Really?" I say as I look her right in the eye. "You're not the first woman to threaten me with death if I don't do exactly what she says." That hit a nerve! ;)
I tell her if I'm going to die, I want to drive home and put my affairs in order. I need to write a will, explain my situation in an email to my two children, Charlotte and Spencer, as well as my sister Liz. Then I want to to arrange for someone to come by and feed my cat Lembus and my two parakeets. I promise her I will go to the White Plains ER first thing in the morning. So Dr. M makes me sign a million release forms basically saying I won't sue. I feel like she makes protecting WestMed her first priority and me a far lower one. PS: I gave her a terrible online review. 8)
Pretty shaken up, I drive home, call Rudy and ask his advice. Should I go to the ER tonight or can I wait until tomorrow after first putting my affairs in order. He asks about my symptoms, thinks it over, and says I can probably wait. And so I did! Much, much, more to tell... :-O
So today as more and more people die from Covid-19, I reminisce about the most traumatic event of my life and the terrible agita I feel writing about it. I grab my Mexican Fender Jazz Bass, my soul Brother, and play along to the favorite record of my favorite band, "Bad Company" -- all the while singing "That's why they call me Bad Company. I can't deny. Bad, Bad Company. 'Til the day I die..." One <3
YouTube - Bad Company - Bad Company
©2020 Roger Zee