Today is exactly a fortnight since I first went into hospital. I rang the MRI scheduling department at Strathcathro Hospital and they told me that the cardiologist has asked for the MRI to be done in May 16 prior to an appointment with him. I made sure that they have my telephone number and confirmed that I can take holiday now as planned as I won;t be called until May. This is very different from the fleeing aboot of last week and suggests that I should just be getting back to normal and be happy that the beta blocker and ACE inhibitor in combination are keeping blood pressure and heart rate at a better level. It is difficult to explain to anyone who has not had hypertension and palpitating how different your body feels when both these are slowed down, It is like you are fizzing with chemicals and you have to work with your body pump, not in spite of it. There is no pain or discomfort but I do feel like I am in a slight time warp. I let the family know that I will travel as long as I feel strong enough for the long journey, and will have that specific conversation with the GP before I book my ticket. I will come back in plenty of time for the May appointments, but I think I will be doing that by myself as I cannot imagine that Alan would make that trip with me.

I need to get my confidence back and not be frightened of what could happen. I promised Alan I would walk along the road and back this morning. I actually walked along the road at pace, up the hill on to the cinder path along the Knock, through Culcrieff, back to the main road and back up the hill to Alisons house. At some points, the cold and icyness made me feel as though the path was jumping up at me, but I made myself a solid walking stick and kept going. When I got back, my walk had not been noticed as Alan was trying to download an app from Daily Telegraph with their helpline, so I got the brush and shovel and cleared Alison's front porch of ice and leaves. Now I am going to make her a polenta almond orange drizzle cake and arrange some tulips for her.

Welcome to the Premium Health Service Online 24 hour advice centre.  Age? 60. Gender? Female. Symptoms? Sadness. How long have you been experiencing symptoms? A while now. Please describe your symptoms in as much detail as you can to enable one of our team to advise you.

It feels like I’m being squeezed agonisingly from both sides but in the middle, I have no feeling at all. My beautiful daughter, she has presence and elegance. I wonder when I was her age, was there anyone who thought that of me? Did I own the territory like she does?  Or did I fail to find a foothold there too? And am I awake or sleeping at night when I sense the years slipping away again like a slow mud slide with nowhere to grip. My daughter is a fine mother, poised, twinkling with laughter, a whirlwind of business trips and play dates. My own mother, the grandmother of my children, still the grandmother figure, with the sweet white curls. I’m caught in a place between, somewhere I cannot recognise the co-ordinates of, growing older, certainly, not certain what I’m aging into, slipping past those moments I imagined I’d staked a claim to in childbirth, like a window pane on an oiled runner, gliding vacantly past more solid fixtures, a watery reflection captured in the transparency of the glass and powerless to stop.

The pressure you are feeling in your sides and the sensation of sadness may be symptoms of heart attack. Please click here to speak to one of our nurses who will assess your situation urgently.

Oh, I see what you mean, but don’t worry. I’ve had a few glasses of sherry and it’s somewhere between midnight and dawn. That’s all, I’m sure. I love my daughter absolutely, am fiercely proud of her. I don’t have strong feelings for my mother though, and that makes me feel guilty. Maybe when you’re my age, you can still play back scenes with your mother, but the feelings have gone to greyscale. Don’t mind me. It’s lashing with rain outside, I hope you can go home to your family soon. It’s being thrown against the windows, and the slates on the roof are being buffeted and lifted and shifted by the wind raging up the valley. Have you noticed how this year the trees have groaned at the ferocity of the attacks as though their limbs are racked with arthritic pain? I think it’s been worse, it unnerves me. I don’t sleep so well these nights. It brings back the unease of hearing the depths of the Atlantic slamming like an articulated dump truck into the vertical rock of an island, breathed in lull expanding to a roar, the inevitability of the sideways shove of the ocean  bulk, like your body winded as you hit the ground and wild horse hooves scatter. We give the storms names now, angry Abigail, and wait for them to lash out at us, huddling in. When I was young, we didn’t know they were coming.

It’s quieter now, I’ll try to sleep again. Thank you for being out there. I hope you get home safely tonight.

On 1 February, I sat down in a chair and had a heart attack. I didn't realise what had happened and thought I had caught my ribs in an awkward position. It lasted for no more than a few minutes, then I had supper. On 2 February, we walked to the Golf Club and had a bowl of soup then walked up Calum's Hill to see the view. At the bottom of the hill on the way back, I had another heart attack. The only thing I knew was that I needed my husband to stop chattering so that I could concentrate and achieve as much calm as I could. I kept walking quietly. I had been going to keep going down the High Street to see if I could find something pretty to wear to my Mum's birthday lunch the following Sunday, but I said I just wanted to go home. At home, we checked with the receptionist at our local doctor's surgery to see if I should make an appointment. She advised coming straight down to the surgery.

When we reached the surgery, I was taken to the doctor as soon as he had finished with his current patient. He was run ragged as I was the fourth case of chest pain to present that day, including one which had come in just behind me. He declared it was the worst day of his life as he rang colleagues pleading with them to come back in and cover some of the work load. He did an ECG tracing and found a blip which he felt he had to refer to hospital. He gave me aspirin and put a canula in my arm. This took several attempts and eventually transferred from my left arm to my right arm before it would take. I was seriously concerned that the doctor would be needing an ambulance himself if anything else happened today. 

The ambulance crew member was very interesting to talk to as he had run many half marathons. He took lots of notes and I told him that I had suddenly become very aware of my heart beating and of a hiccough beat during the previous week since our return from Barbados to Crieff. This had been uncomfortable enough to stop me sleeping at night. My blood pressure readings were high for me, not going much below 145 systolic for the moment.

In Perth, the ward was stacking patients in the corridor because they had so many admissions to deal with. For some reason, I was straight on into a bay and into bed within about half an hour. Lots of blood taken which was quite difficult to get hold of. Blood thinners injected into the stomach, which was painful. Hooked up to a monitor all the time but allowed to remove the leads myself when I wanted to get up. 

The first sign that I was not getting away with this was the junior registrar confirming that ECG and blood tests showed there had been an event with my heart. I did not expect this for some reason and felt shattered at the possibility. The cardiologist the next morning explained they would do a stress test and see what showed up. They had ruled out clots on the lungs following recent air travel. For the stress test, I had on my nightie and my big walking boots as it is not easy to do in slippers or bare feet. I worked hard at it and actually felt better as the test progressed. The technician said I had the fitness of a 35 year old man and nearly that of a 20 year old woman. So I felt elated even though she and the female doctor attending had a discussion on how to record sagging on the ECT standing and in the early part of the test. 

Another rollercoaster, unfortunately. A nurse back on the ward mentioned she'd heard my stress test had not gone too well and that probably meant that I would have to have more testing. I felt like I would pass out the next morning when the cardiologist sat down to explain the angiogram procedure to me and the risks of the procedure which were 1 in 500 if it went to plan and 1 in 200 if they had to take any unplanned action during the procedure. I let Alan know that I was being transferred to Ninewells and spent the time waiting for an ambulance looking after a charming lady, Mary, with dementia who had every scheme under the sun to throw the doctors a curveball!

The ambulance crew taking me to Dundee was an international motor cycle competitor, previously a runner. Another great chat. Alan came to Ninewells that evening and got told off for eating my dinner! I didn't see him again until it was time to go home on the Saturday, he must have been traumatised!

I was number seven on the list for the angiogram procedure on Friday afternoon, 5 February. Once I was down in the theatre, there was an emergency that took priority, but they kept me down there so that it wasn't put off to another day. Dr Mohammed did the procedure. It wasn't comfortable, but it was bearable. I was very conscious at the sheer speed he was working at. At the end of the procedure, he was able to tell me there were no arterial blockages and the next stage would be MRI and echogram. The only complication was that the band to seal up where the tubing had entered was too big for my little wrist so I had to have a blood pressure arm band applied to the point where I was bruised black and blue in order to fit another clamp.

I telephoned Aly to let him know it had gone well. We had a little cry together. Unfortunately, I now realise I had the impression and passed it on to him that there was no problem at all and I had the all clear. I didn't realise until the next day when I had the new regime of beta blockers and ACE inhibitors explained to me and the necessity for MRI etc to find out where the heart damage is, that there are more possibilities than blocked arteries. Another severe bump on the rollercoaster. The cardiologist decided it would be better for me to wait for the MRI at home and attend as an outpatient. How they cope with numbers needing beds at times, goodness knows, and this seemed a sensible solution.

By the time Aly came to pick me up on Saturday afternoon, I had begun to feel very vulnerable and fragile. I was certainly frightened of what might happen at any moment. Aly had a heavy, fluey cold when he arrived, almost too ill to drive home from Dundee to Crieff. Next day, I too had a heavy, fluey cold which got worse and worse over the next eight days before finally beginning to peter out. Of course, this meant that I had no idea what was making me feel ill and whether it was something urgent. My chest was very sore and I was frightened at the pressure I was putting on my heart with sneezing and coughing and infection. Nevertheless, we got on with it. We started gentle walks on the flat around the park and increased the distance every day, even in sub-zero temperatures. I kept myself busy with sorting out paperwork and doing some of the little jobs our friend had asked us to do while we were looking after her beautiful flat.

A real low point came a week after the angiogram when I had a painful sinus headache and was so cold, I couldn't warm up. Even with two duvets, all my clothes, rugs and hot water bottle, my feet remained stubbornly blocks of ice. We had to ring the local surgery to ask if I could take pain killers in the circumstances. The doctor on call was so caring and rang back in an hour to make sure I was ok. A real high point came when, with the realisation that my long term insomnia and the stress it causes are going to have had something to do with what has happened, I turned on an 8 hour recording of deep sleep music with 'delta waves' and fell asleep without noticing. When I woke up in the morning, it was still playing quietly in the background. And I began to recover from the flu. 

This is a frightening time. It still is. But I have survived two weeks and I am beginning to get my confidence back. I'm going to record this odd year starting from mid March 2015 but now I need to get up and move around for a while!