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My husband and I…..


Oh wait did I forget to tell you???? Yep, we got married. (I’ll wait so you can finish celebrating, I know it’s a HUGE deal)


So my husband and I had a very rare Sunday where we were both child-free and plans-free. This has not happened in almost two years, mostly because I work too much or school too much or even family too much! But, we had a free Sunday. We both woke up refreshed, made coffee to enjoy on the deck, realized we woke up at 10AM and half the day was gone! So we decided to take the mutt to a dog park for the first time, which was enjoyable for all parties, and then out to a bar for lunch. There is a great place near our house that allows us to bring the dog with us and hang out. So we are sitting at the bar, and the beast is so exhausted from all his dog park running that he mostly doesn’t mind all the people stopping to pet him. I say mostly, because let’s face it, that dog minds everything!

As we are sitting there a husband and wife combo starts chatting with us about the dog. They politely joke about feeding him chips, which she points out her husband should NEVER do because it is not their dog.(Thank you for that my dear!)  I allow the chip to be fed, as he has never had one (at least to my knowledge) and I am sure it would make his beast face happy. They are quite friendly and we get into a bit of a tear filled laughing fit as her husband begins to tell us a story……


This is all true…. according to what I was told.


Let me describe this man to you. He is about 5’5”, bandana around his head (we are at a biker bar), maybe in his 40’s, tanned skin from a summer of Harley riding I am sure, a leather vest, chain wallet, the works. He is clearly a burly, tough dude. He begins to tell us about his recent lawn mowing experience:


I was mowing the yard last weekend, and it was pretty hot out. I had a shirt with the sleeves cut off on, and all of a sudden I started having a heart attack. I dropped the mower, clutched my chest and thought, “This is it, this is how it ends.” I was home alone so I was sure I wasn’t even going to make it back inside. I began to try and make my way back to the house. Clutching my chest, I heaved my person toward the door. I remember stumbling a few times and I fell down to my knees at least twice. The pain was intense, searing heat spreading across my chest. I was certain this was the big one. My arm began to go numb and tingle. Again I got up, heaving myself toward the back door of the house. Praying to all of my Gods I would make it to my phone and at least call my wife, maybe even the hospital. I fell again to my knees, pain shooting through my entire torso at this point, my arm completely numb dangling at my side like a useless octopus’s arm stunned by a sea urchin. I began to make deals with God about what kind of life I would lead. I would do charity work. I would put the toilet seat down! I would even start reading the bible, just let me survive this! I heaved myself up one more time, continuing to make deals and promises to go, octopus arm dragging behind my keeled over body. I made it into the kitchen and there was my phone. As I let go of my chest with my only good arm to grab the phone, I felt the enormity of my situation take over my whole functionality. The world began to tilt. I saw the cabinets I swore I would fix slip up onto the ceiling, my sink and refrigerator suddenly tipped onto the floor, the white hot pain spreading like needling fingers further down into my spine and legs when suddenly I found myself on my back, staring up at the ceiling. Gasping for breath and clutching my phone I dialed 911. I could barely speak and what came out was a series of sputtering dry-heaves meant to pass for the words “Heart attack”. She confirmed I was home and what was my address. I began praying now, we were well beyond promises and negotiations with God. The heat was climbing up my neck and into my skull, much like an aggressive masseuse who just won’t heed your requests to be gentle, digging further in until I was certain if I reached back with good ole Octopus arm, I might feel the gooey insides of my brain. The operator begged me not to hang up, but by now I was sure I was a goner and needed to connect to my bride one last time. Somewhere deep in the oozing recesses of my mind I remembered she was working. I caught what wisp of air was left that I could call my breath, and dialed her work. She answered immediately, and went into a rant about some woman having an attitude as I lay dying on our kitchen floor, staring at the remnants of a spaghetti explosion from 5 weeks ago that I was sure I had mopped off the ceiling. I attempted to interrupt, but it came out as barely a whisper. Finally, she asked why I was calling and I was able to heave out of my lungs, “Heart attack, I’m having a heart attack.” Suddenly she was alert, began asking questions. Where was I? Had I called 911? Where was I going. The pain grew more intense and began to pull back into my chest, locking all of its violent energy back in and around my heart. I realized this was it. I began making confessions, I was ready to apologize for every yellow light I had ever run, I was ready to confess things you should never confess!! I reached up to clutch my heart one last time, certain this was the end. I whispered, “I love you” to my wife. And then I felt it. The bee sting right over my heart. I had been stung in the chest while mowing, and dramatically I survived.

Not only did I have to explain this to my panicked wife, but I also had to convince the EMT that I was not sick and yes it is possible to mistake a bee sting for a heart attack, and no I have not taken any drugs today thank you!


This story was fundamentally followed; however, I took some creative liberties with permission from the original teller. Careful when you are mowing y’all!