In January 2024, I asked my husband to call 911 because I felt certain I was dying. Beyond something being very wrong with my heart, I felt a sudden and overwhelming sense of doom. I needed to go to the hospital.

I had been diagnosed with a heart problem in the fall of 2023 for which I was supposed to receive open heart surgery in the near future. When the paramedics arrived, I was having trouble concentrating and answering questions. I was busy trying to stay alive. I believe I wasn’t fully conscious. Nevertheless, they persisted with the questions. I remember hoping my husband was answering them. I was in and out. I remember trying to tell them it was my heart, and that I was waiting for surgery but something was really wrong. I remember very large people in my living room. Several. The room felt small and tight.

There seemed to be some debate about whether I would go to the hospital. I panicked. I knew I had to go to the hospital. How could it be up for debate? I sank into myself, tuned out the giants in the living room, and told myself their questions had nothing to do with me. All I had to do was keep breathing. They didn’t seem to understand my heart was a real problem.

I remember they said they couldn’t get the gurney into the house. Could I walk? I remember thinking if I said no, I wouldn’t get taken to the hospital. Somehow I did it. I got to my feet and I walked to the ambulance, eyes closed tight, breathing, holding onto a paramedic for dear life. It was very cold, a rare skiff of snow on the ground. I wondered if I was dreaming the snow, if I was still alive, and I opened my eyes to check, surprising the paramedic who was eye to eye with me, on the step below me, walking down the stairs backwards while guiding me down. And then I was on a gurney and in an ambulance and on my way to the hospital, panicking.

I realized suddenly that I did not have a mask. This only added to my panic. I asked for a mask. The paramedic (not the same one who lead me down the stairs) rolled his eyes. He did not give me one. He kind of laughed. Dismissive. He said something to me about it. I can’t remember exactly what he said, but the implication was that if I was with it enough to ask for a mask, I did not need to go to the hospital. I knew then that he thought I was wasting his time. I think I cried then and said out loud to myself, “What is happening to me?” And he said, “You tell me,” sarcastically. I felt like an old hypochondriac lady. I didn’t feel safe with him.

The next thing I remember I was in the hallway leading from the ambulance bay to Emergency. Everything was backed up. The hallway was packed with sick people. I was relieved to be in the hospital, but still didn’t have a mask. I asked for a mask again. I did not get one. I asked a third time. Someone finally gave me one. I’m fairly certain it was not the paramedic.

I tried to get control of my breathing again. Thirty years of practicing yoga came back to me. I breathed in. I breathed out. Several times. Then the paramedic said, “It looks like you’re feeling fine now.” I knew he didn’t believe there was anything wrong with me. He was looking at me with disgust. Disgust. Of this, I am certain.

Paramedic, if you are reading this, know that I was admitted to the hospital after you took me there. I didn’t leave for over a week. It was the start of a health care odyssey that remains ongoing and a diagnosis that was so much worse than anything I could have imagined that night. Know that I’ve had three open heart surgeries since then, and another major open chest surgery. I am grateful to everyone who helped me. You are not one of those people.

You made an already traumatic event worse. I try to figure out why you would imagine someone with an already diagnosed heart problem who called 911 didn’t need help and I can’t. You made me question myself and whether I was panicking for no reason. There was a reason.

In the intervening time, more than once, my doctors have told me I would know if I need to “go in.” They would tell me what to watch for, but would also say, “You will know.” And I have. But I’ve never called an ambulance again.