It could have happened to me.

Big, strong, focused men quickly took up space near my dialysis chair this morning. Familiar faced, I recognized that concerned look as I awoke from a much needed nap. Hours earlier, my husband was encouraging me to go to sleep. We have a busy day ahead. Curiously babbling about nonsense to whoever was near or would listen. Typical of my behavior when I've been awake all night.

Seemed like it was a lifetime ago, when yellow and blue suits, thick boots and gear were at the dialysis unit for me! It was February 2015, exactly one year after my release from a two month long hospital stay back in February 2014.

February 2015 (with purposeful plans to revisit my transitional care unit to express additional appreciation and to show them how much I have improved), I was at my usual time, early a.m. being dialyzed. Suddenly I was jilted awake from a nap in excruciating pain. There were these unfamiliar, rapidly progressive tightening in my chest. Difficult to breath or to speak, I gestured one of the technicians over to my big, blue assigned chair, #21. Pointed to my chest, muttered "pain" I think was the word. My husband must have gone to the our vehicle for something at this time, but when he returned, several technicians had began to surround me.

Quietly wondering, "was this pain all in my head", as it was so sudden and unexpected. After all, when I fell off to slept, I felt fine. Eventually it became difficult to breath. Our on-sight nurse gave me a pill to chew on or keep under my tongue (I don't recall exactly) - which is a common drug for this situation, nitro.

About every 15 minutes or so, I was asked if I felt better. Typically with a high pain tolerance in my distant past, "No" was my worried reply.

The nurse asked if I wanted them to call the paramedics. Never wanting a big fuss over me, I asked, "do you have to?". She proceeded to tell me, I paraphrase, "we can't let you go home like this". Soon afters, she made the call.

Continued in an uncomfortable incline position, I asked if I could sit up. Being an asthmatic, standing or walking around (and hovering over) brought forth some slight relief. For the first time, it failed. I began to silently panic from my discomfort, from my ignorance to what was happening. Naively I presumed, all I had to deal with was complications related to my kidneys or something with the frontal lobe stroke. I'm still learning about this disease. There is so much knowledge required.

By this time, nurse had administered several nitro tablets while the paramedics (and fire department) were in route. The more time passed, the tighter my chest became, the more terrified. I looked over to my stealth husband, "honey, what's happening".

Once the emergency workers arrived, they immediate surrounded my chair. Much like what happened to the other patient this morning. They were professional and immediately earned my trust. I felt I was in safe hands and these guys were going to help make things better.

They asked the nurse how many nitro's I already had. Eventually they requested I be given one more, which didn't make a dent. By this time, I was prepared and ready to get on somebody's gurney. Get me to the hospital, I was thinking. Quickly my husband began gathering our belongings - the lawn chair he brings to sit in for comfort. My huge, overstuffed dialysis bag. My blankets, sheet, and pillow which draped the chair.

This morning, I could feel a few of the paramedics subtly being aware of me. After all, what is a young, fit woman doing in this predicament surrounded by all these geriatric patients? I can read most people's minds, especially when it comes to this. Look at me, though my locks are silvered, I can easily be passed for someone in their early 20's (just kidding, late 30's). I digress.

Back to February 2015, I was transported by ambulance to one of the local hospitals of my choice. Exactly 15 years ago, I lost a child. I avoid going to the hospital where she later died at (not that there was any negligence there). As a result, I was whisked away to a hospital a little bit farther (the one I was initially hospitalized in).

Today my husband and I were able to watch the ambulance take that other dialysis patient away. Curious, I asked if they has lights flashing like that with me. He remembered, the driver specifically telling him, he wouldn't be able to follow. During my 2014 hospital stays, it was common for me to travel to and from my dialysis treatment via emergency vehicle. Secured on a gurney, unable to communicate, my dear husband following behind, or on board my assertive and knowledgeable voice and loving advocate.

Memories are slowly resurfacing as I type. I want to post this before nap in preparation for my daughter golf tournament later in the evening. Anyway, I arrived to the hospital with these amazing guys who made sure I was comfortable, answered answerable questions during the trip there. I found myself trying to memorize all of their names, like year prior. It is customary to draft and deliver "appreciation letters" for significant quality service I receive.

My husband right there, where he has always been, inquisitive and prepared for whatever happens next. Naturally calm and impressively optimistic, we rested in the hospital room feeling out billing requirements and providing health information.

By now, I've had I don't know how many nitro's. My condition was progressively worse by now, yet I was grateful to be at the place where wellness was possible. Over the years, I've been privileged amazing care. Had some really smart physicians caring for me, along with other competent and compassionate medical related professionals.

Here,  now in the ER, my panic had lessened but was still prevalent enough to cause quiet stress. All this time, my husband was rubbing my body - shoulders, arms, legs while assuring me, everything will work out just fine.

Many tests were done to determine the accurate nature of my discomfort. It was later determined that I had suffered an aneurysm in my aorta. The quest efficiently became, is operating imminent.

On this day, I was hospitalized. Emergency workers said their "good byes", I along with my husband expressed our sincere gratitude then off they went to save the next person.

Fortunately, my aneurysm wasn't fatal and will require routine monitoring for the remainder of my life. My hospital stay became more relaxing than the previous two. This time I was alert and independently functioning. Honestly, I recall mentioning how much I needed a break. Being hospitalized for so long the first time was like home for me. I grieved not having nurses care for me, I missed the noises and the meals. Weird, but true. Perhaps my secret longings attracted another hospitalization into my existence.

Positive thoughts go out to that dialysis patient in needed of emergency care. I've learned to be a tiny bit more thankful each time I return home from my early morning dialysis appointment. Like I said, anything can happen. It can happen at anytime to any one of us. No one is exempt - no matter how good, how bad; how righteous, how flawed. Tragedy, without warning can easily seep into our reality. This is why I'm glad I'm a thankful person. Taught my kids early on to be thankful.

Don't spend your days, your life complaining. Whining and not doing anything to improve your misfortunes. There are people suffering worse, and may wish they were you! Be grateful.

Nap time.