When Pride Becomes a Matter of Life and Death: The Shocking Truth Behind Embarrassment
We quickly informed my nurse, and before she had a chance to return with antibiotics, Caroline—with the help of the CDC website—had already diagnosed my illness: Lyme carditis. As it turned out, she and I preferred the infection to structural damage. My cardiac team, however, disagreed.
I was wheeled down to the cardiac catheterization lab for a coronary angiography. While my arm and my groin were being shaved, I tried to convince the doctor that I no longer needed the procedure. And although the nurses found my rash sufficiently interesting to take multiple photographs, the doctor was less impressed. “Mr. ******, you have Lyme disease and you’ve had a heart attack.”
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