By Drew McMullin

My heart journey began in early 2015, but really, it began much earlier. I am the child of two families with significant heart and other health concerns, where heart disease, diabetes, and other conditions ran rampant through the generations. Me being the perfect example of this genetic combination, I should have been more active in monitoring my health far sooner than I did.

Until 2015, life was full of raising a rambunctious son, Sam, with my wife, Zsofia, and trying to balance family with an active work-life including intensive travel across the United States and frequent stays away. I was rising in my company, flying to far-flung communities to resolve issues, and living the business life of hotel food, not enough exercise other than walking through airports, and definitely no regular medical check-ups. I had also lost weight and was at my lowest as an adult, wearing t-shirts from high school that I had grown out of previously.

But, the story inside me wasn’t that of health.             

I began to have pain, not in my chest, but in my back along my spine. Searing, agonizing pain that would build, last for seconds, or minutes, or, in a couple instances, hours. Nothing I did would resolve it, and it would often leave me exhausted afterwards.

Having a degenerative spinal and arthritic disease already diagnosed, the medical community in Connecticut at the time believed the pain was a back and muscle issue, so that is how we attempted to address the issue.

On November 22, 2015, as I was waiting for my son to complete his club activities in Wallingford, Connecticut, I collapsed to the floor. The pain, dizziness and fear gripped me in ways I hadn’t ever experienced. Upon arrival at the hospital, the answer was clear: I was having a heart attack.

Mind you, the same thing occurred a month earlier during a trip to the United Kingdom, and testing on an ambulance ride to the hospitalyielded higher than normal troponin levels, but not a diagnosis of a heart attack. So, I was shocked at what was occurring.

I was transferred to a Connecticut hospital, where, after some complications, I received two stents on Thanksgiving Day. I started a pharmaceutical regime, began exercising, and was advised that my heart was “similar to a water pump, and it was still going strong.”

I was 39 years old.

But, the pain was also still going strong. Despite my best efforts, I once again found myself on the floor, this time in Portland at my office (we had moved back home to Maine to be closer to family), and subsequently taking a ride to Maine Medical Center. The diagnosis again was a heart attack. This time, during the stenting procedure, it was determined that a double bypass would be necessary, and the preparation began.

I was 40 years old.

I endured a 14-hour quadruple bypass surgery to keep me alive. The damage to my heart was significant, and it would become my focus for the rest of my days.

Since then, I’ve worked hard to eat right and exercise. Long gone are the days of burgers and fatty foods. I exercise as best I can. And I work diligently with the expert and fantastic medical teams at MaineHealth to keep going.

That is the most important part of my journey: To keep going.

Positivity is what drives me today. The love of my wife, who has stood beside me through it all, keeps me here. Seeing my son grow into a young adult, play football and baseball with confidence, sing in the high school choir, and be a writer and French and Indian War reenactor, keeps me here. My friends, family, and colleagues keep me here. My fabulous doctors, including Dr. Paul Sweeney at Maine Health Cardiology, keep me here.

Being understanding that this is a traumatic experience, and seeking help through counseling keeps me here. I encourage everyone to understand that this isn’t just a daily event, it is life changing. That is more than a shrug can handle. Talking to someone helps keep me, us, here.

I am beating the odds. We are beating the odds. And that should bring us joy abound.