74 Narrative Ethnography

As told by Joseph, age 49, to Elizabeth Schmidt.

Back in 2017, I started feeling tired and rundown constantly. It went beyond feeling drowsy, and to the point where I could hardly climb the stairs without feeling exhausted. This went on for over a month, and eventually, I decided to call my doctor. The doctor told me that if my heart rate was high, then I had nothing to worry about. I took my heart rate, but I didn’t do it in the right way. This was before I owned an Apple Watch or any app that measured these things, so it seemed much better than it really was. But I wasn’t getting any better, and it only continued. So, I texted a younger colleague of mine, one who I worked with at a clinic. He was able to get me in for an appointment at the hospital the next day, sneaking me in. I was lucky for that, because while I was at the hospital, I collapsed.

It turns out, I had viral myocarditis, a virus in my heart, and my heart function was at 6 percent. After the diagnosis, I was put on Ecmo, which is a machine that takes the blood from the body, gives it oxygen, and then restores it. I was asleep on that for four days and was held for an extra week after. When I came through, I felt embarrassed at first. I felt that as a doctor, I should have caught that sooner myself. I was too young, too healthy for something like this to happen to me now.

The whole experience was terrifying. I felt so weak, and at first, I could barely even move. Nurses came in and out around every fifteen minutes, and you could hear alerts and alarms sounding constantly. I was so nervous to fall asleep again and stayed up for over a day out of worry. I was always so tired, and the thoughts running through my head were overwhelming. I couldn’t stop thinking about my family too. What was running through their heads? Were they worried about me? What were my kids thinking?

Eventually though, I was discharged. I got out, and I went back home feeling so relieved. I was okay, I could reassure myself. I was going to be alright, and my family was going to be alright. The hospital I was at, St. Luke’s, was known for good heart care, and I was lucky that I crashed there as opposed to anywhere else. If I hadn’t gotten in when I did, it could have been so much worse. I had to go back in a few shorter times, and I couldn’t drive for a while because of my low strength. But eventually, my doctor gave me the news with a smile that the virus was gone.

From there, I worked to get better. Not just with my heart, but with my health, too. After the hospital, I started working out more, both to get my initial strength back, and because I didn’t want that to happen to me again. I started eating better too, far healthier than before. It was a bit difficult at first, but I found healthy foods and recipes that I loved over time, and it became something I really enjoy. I really became committed to becoming more fit, and it all made me become vigilant about my body and my health. My family noticed too. I was able to be there more for my kids, and that alone made all the hard work worthwhile.

Now, I’m doing great. I’m healthy, active, and in good shape, and I get checked every 6 months for any complications. Things have gotten better, and I’m happy I was able to bounce back like I did. Moving and driving have never felt more gratifying.