When Pride Becomes a Matter of Life and Death: The Shocking Truth Behind Embarrassment
My doctor’s words were clear: “You’ve had a heart attack.”
This was in my pedagogical wheelhouse. I know what elevated troponin means and I know what chest pain can signal. But that knowledge did not make the diagnosis easier to hear. I didn’t like being accused of having a heart attack, and I found it unsettling that allowing a nitroglycerine pill to dissolve under my tongue helped end my episode.
The nurses detected my distress, but their well-wishes as I was wheeled out on a stretcher did not change my mood. I found it embarrassing to be taken by ambulance to the cardiac intensive care unit at Lahey Hospital. A heart attack felt less like a diagnosis than a verdict. I felt indicted before I even felt afraid.
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