Women under 55 are more likely to be misdiagnosed during a heart attack, and twice as likely to die from one compared to men the same age. (Yale Health)

 

I know, because it nearly happened to me.

 

 

 

After a year of procedures with amazing doctors at Boone Hospital and Mayo Clinic, and a couple months in a wheelchair, I’m finally getting the nerve to talk about what happened on December 20, 2024 while on a weekend getaway to Las Vegas.

 

More than a decade ago, at 44, my husband had what’s called the “widow maker," a life-threatening blockage in his LAD artery that was not detected on EKG. I figured if anyone in our family was going down with a cardiac event, it’d be him. I don’t have the usual risk factors: I don’t smoke, don’t have high blood pressure or cholesterol, and I work out consistently.

 

Weeks before looking back, I was tired. I felt extra gassed when working out, felt like I had to take super deep breaths to get air ...like I needed to sigh a lot. It felt good when I sighed. I realize now I was short of breath but was too darn busy to even notice. Our dog had just gotten run over and died, I was grinding hard in my business, Healium, and downsizing our empty nest—getting our house ready to put on the market.

 

That morning at the hotel in Vegas, I felt off … a little lightheaded and a dull belly pain. Not really nauseous, but my belly was achy.

 

I popped a couple Tylenol, thinking I was getting a bug, and we walked to our favorite restaurant at the Bellagio Cafe. One second, I was ordering pancakes, the next, I was doubled over with chest pain.

 

Initially, it wasn’t center-chest pain like you hear about, it was side boob pain that radiated to my back chest. A crushing, tearing pressure near my left armpit along the vertical seam of my bra. I stood up, thinking it was a cramp. I tried to walk a few steps but felt like the wind got knocked out of me ...like bad indigestion under my left breast. This felt different than a panic attack.

 

“Maybe you need to take off your bra?” Rob joked, trying to lighten the mood.

 

I knew something didn’t feel right.

 

My left arm went tingly and weak. I couldn’t lie down ...it made it worse. The only relief came from curling forward like I was trying to fold myself into my lap. My husband wasted no time in asking our waiter to call an ambulance.

 

The paramedics arrived and said my blood pressure was low. They loaded me up in the bumpy ambulance to start an IV, hit my vein perfectly despite the potholes, and after frisking me for weapons and drugs, it’s Vegas after all, gave me 5 baby aspirin on the way to the hospital.

 

“Maybe a panic attack,” they said. “You’re too young and healthy for a heart attack. EKG looks normal.”

 

Spoiler: it wasn’t a panic attack.

 

At this busy inner-city Vegas hospital, no beds were available, so I spent the next 24 hours in a transport hallway next to other critically ill patients, getting Heparin drips and pain meds. Seeing me get worse, Rob, who’s been through this with his own heart condition, insisted the nurse check the level of “Troponin” in my blood, the marker for heart muscle damage and cell death.

 

Good thing he did. Twelve hours later, the nurse looked worried.

 

My troponin had exploded to 1713 ng/L ...more than 120 times the normal limit. Troponin is a protein released into the blood after a heart attack. The higher the level, the worse the heart injury.

 

 

 

Suddenly, I had a room. The cardiologist told me I was having a “big ol’ heart attack” despite the normal EKG and asked whether I had been doing cocaine. Uh, no. Just Diet Coke.

 

A team of nurses rushed me to the OR to look for blockages in my heart. It had been about 30 hours. The verdict: squeaky clean arteries. No blockages. But still a very real heart attack.

 

The cardiologist said it’s a type of heart attack called MINOCA: Myocardial Infarction with Non-Obstructive Coronary Arteries. It’s more common in younger < 55 and healthy women. No classic clogs, but the heart still screams for oxygen.

 

Doctors suspect my heart attack was triggered by :

  • a SCAD—Spontaneous Coronary Artery Dissection, which tends to strike women in midlife.
  • vasospasm(s) that shut down my heart’s blood flow
  • exacerbated by inflammation from illness, chronic stress as an entrepreneur, and the acute event of my dog getting run over.

 

Chronic and acute stress can ignite a perfect storm in an already weakened system that can literally kill you. Stress creates inflammation in the delicate inner lining of your arteries, which makes them stiffer and less elastic. 

 

This is why people sometimes say, “The stress killed them.”


 That’s not poetic …it’s physiological.

 

MINOCA (Myocardial Infarction with Non-Obstructive Coronary Arteries) isn’t caused by a big cholesterol blockage. Instead, it often involves dynamic changes in the coronary arteries, which are very sensitive to stress hormones.

Stress increases:

  • Adrenaline and cortisol
  • Heart rate and blood pressure
  • Vascular reactivity (how easily vessels constrict)

Those changes worsen the underlying mechanisms of MINOCA.

 

I was lucky. I got to the Vegas hospital in time. But I keep wondering: what if my husband hadn’t known to push for that troponin test?

 

Ladies, trust your gut. Advocate for yourself. A normal EKG doesn’t always mean you’re fine. And a heart attack doesn’t always look or feel like it does in the movies. Stress is kindling that can ignite a firestorm in your body, like my heart attack, if you don't pause to put it out. 

 

After 3 months of cardiac rehab and another 9 months of healing, I’m 100% and finally back to doing the things I love, like lifting my grandson. Grateful to God for bringing back my strength, my family for making me belly laugh, smart doctors, and so many of you who offered your prayers, food, friendship, and light during a dark time.

 

 

Educate yourself about MINOCA. Had my husband not asked for the Troponin test, my symptoms could have been dismissed.