by Bill Field

“On the plains of hesitation lay the bones of countless millions, who on the dawn of victory sat down to rest (nap). And died resting (napping).” The author is unknown, but this statement means a lot to me. Here’s why.

It was May 13, a Saturday. I got up early and took my healthy 94-year-old neighbor for biscuits and sausage gravy. Back home, I had $30 worth of vegetable plants to set, a leaking livestock tank to repair and my old 464 IH was reluctant to start. I raked out an area for reseeding. It then started raining. My wife, Lauri, suggested heading to the mall to buy new running shoes for Mother’s Day.

A creepy feeling came over me at the mall from an atmosphere attempting to suck every dollar out of my wallet. As I checked shoe prices, it hit me. I couldn’t raise my arms. I struggled to breathe, and felt unbalanced, nauseated, sweaty and ready to collapse.

Maybe it was the shoe prices, but I knew better. I’m 73, never had heart problems, walk a lot and felt somewhat invincible. I’ve mentioned all these signs to farmer clientele who’ve attended my farm safety programs over the past 45 years.

I’ve completed a 40-hour first-responder class and several CPR and first-aid classes. The problem was, this time I was the victim, and all that training was designed to administer to the other guy.

Nap syndrome

My first passionate inclination was to get home for a nap. That is clearly a genetic weakness of most men. Every one of life’s problems can be solved with a nap. I asked Lauri to take me home. Then I realized I was being a world-class hypocrite. My message is always, “Get immediate medical attention when your body tells you something is wrong.”

It was a short mile to our local hospital emergency room. We pulled in, and I slid out the truck door and walked through automatic opening doors. The nurse immediately suggested I might have a problem. I can’t remember what I said.

I spent the next seven days in the cardiac unit with multiple IV’s and more electronic gear attached to me than on a new John Deere combine. I ended up with three stents, multiple angioplasty procedures and more blood draws than I care to remember.

Reaping rewards

As I write this, it’s been just over two weeks. Last night I chiseled 50 acres — part of my cardiac rehabilitation plan! I feel good but wear out quickly. The best outcome is that I am still here, enjoying our fresh strawberries.

Here’s the bottom line. Should you have chest or shoulder pains, shortness of breath, general weakness or disorientation, it is most likely not from eating tacos. You’re probably having a heart attack.

Don’t go home, stop for a quarter-pounder or fill the livestock tank. Go directly to the nearest emergency room. If you’re alone, call 911 immediately. The life you save may be your own!

For more information about symptoms, visit online sites sponsored by the American Heart Association, Red Cross and National Safety Council.

Yes, Lauri got her new shoes. Best of all, I saw her wear them.

Field is a Purdue Extension farm safety specialist.