Articles I read said I had PTSD.
As I laid on the table in the cath lab watching a wire being guided into my heart, my life flashed before my semiconscious awareness. I responded to my doctor’s orders as he threaded the wire to the exact position as I watched on the x-ray monitor. I didn’t want to die now. How could this be happening to me?
Luckily I was in a drug induced state, or I might have been a nervous wreck, fit to be tied. I was experiencing significant doses of skepticism since most of my adult life I was told by doctors I had less than a half percent chance of ever having a heart attack. I expected that because I was a marathon runner, a tri-athlete, a swimmer, a cyclist – and I had low blood pressure and low cholesterol. For years, I would run 10 miles a day and longer on the weekends. I knew all about proper nutrition. This could not be happening to me. The doctors lied to me, and then came the bomb.
I sensed something was going wrong due to the length of the procedure. My doctor said the procedure would only take about an hour, but it didn’t. After putting in the first stent, he told me he found two other arteries that were 95% closed. He was gong to insert two more that made it a total of three stents. I closed my eyes and remembered Father Ignatius, my childhood catholic priest, and began to pray. Three hours later I was back in my hospital room.
It was something that was totally off my radar. It shattered everything about who I thought I was. All of my friends were shocked. To them, I was the healthiest person they knew.
Fear became an internal part of my life. I went to the ER more times in the first two years after my heart attack than I had in all of my life. Every time I felt a twinge, a flutter or a dizzy spell, I’d panic and run to the ER. They would take all the appropriate tests and each time concluded it was anxiety. I just read an article that said many people who have heart attacks suffer from PTSD. That was me.
Two years after the attack I spent a week in Colorado with my sisters. I almost did not get on the plane because I felt nauseous and dizzy. Tempted to call 9-1-1, I forced myself on the plane, arrived safely, and went to Estes Park. The first thing I did was find out where the hospital was in relation to where we were staying… just in case. The whole time I was there I could not relax– until the last day. We had heard about an area in the park where we could go to watch the elk. It was rutting season, and several herds came down to this one particular area. We spent at least two hours there watching these majestic animals. I was taking photographs the whole time. Engrossed in taking photos, I did not have time to think about my anxiety. It was such a revelation. It is the one thing I can do that will fully get my mind off of everything else.
I have been taking photos for as long as I can remember. My first camera was a little Kodak Brownie camera. I can remember developing photos with my cousin Sue using a makeshift darkroom in her basement. I bought my first Nikon 35mm film in the early ‘70’s. It was a Nikormat (I still have it!). I have since progressed from film to digital.
It has been four years since I had my heart attack. Taking photos has always brought me immense joy, but the last few years taking photos has taken on a whole new meaning – therapy. So now, whenever I feel a little bit anxious, I take my camera and go somewhere to take photographs. This blog is a result of my discovery and I it means a lot to me that you, my readers, are a part of my therapy.
Maralee
Through My Lens 
Thanks for sharing your story. What a wonderful way to help yourself feel better. Maybe I should give it a try on my bad days. Stay well.
Thanks, Christine. When I get behind my camera, all negative thoughts go away. Even if its just for a short time, I always feel better afterward.
Thanks for sharing! I’m glad photography helped you, and your photos are wonderful. 🙂
Thank you, Inga.
Thanks so much for sharing such a personal, moving story. Beautifully written with magnificent photos.
Thank you very much. I wish I was in France taking photos about now.
What a wonderful share.. of a message to all… no matter who you are or what you do, time is on your side… till it ends… I suffer on the odd occasion the feelings of dread and worry and my camera is like a medicine… a walk with it in my hand, even with bad light and nothing to shoot… is enough to make me forget all the bad thoughts that have been carousing in my head… I am so glad your camera is therapeutic, because your photos are a joy to look at… I hope you need the therapy of your camera for years to come, so that we can continue to enjoy your posts….
Thanks, John. Like you, when I have my camera with me, I’m so much more focused on the beauty everywhere around me that all bad thoughts just drift away.
As hard as it is to experience health problems, I think that in the aftermath we become much stronger and appreciate life so much. I have enjoyed each and every one of your photos cousin Maralee. They are truly a work of art. I especially love all of your flower photos and, of course, Grand Marais photos. You have such a good eye for beauty. I am happy that your camera brings you much peace.
Thank you, Judy. My situation pales to what you’ve had to go through. It does make us appreciate life so much more.
Oh Maralee, that must have been so scary! Thanks for sharing that with us. I’m very glad you found a way to combat your stress, and in such a beautiful way! 🙂
Thank you, Zelmare. It was scary but it puts a whole new perspective on life.
Nice message with beautiful photos !
Your photos are a visual treat .
They relieve viewer’s anxiety as well !
Keep going !
utham
Thank you, Utham. I intend to keep going for a long time. 🙂
Real lives lurk behind these virtual friendships. Way to put yours out there for people to benefit. We all need reminders to appreciate life everyday. I think photography is a form of meditation… you are doing something but the mind is focused and doesn’t launch it’s chaos.
Thank you for sharing…
Thank you, Wendy. We all have stresses in our lives and its nice to find something that will transport us to another place for a while.
Maralee, What a creative and beautiful way to fight anxiety! I still marvel you, indeed one of the healthiest people I know, had a heart attack. Your photography is stunning and I enjoy finding new pictures in my email – it’s a quiet moment of looking at the little things in life that make this world beautiful. Keep up the clicking!! Thanks for sharing.
Thanks, Lynn. Wish I could get back to MN more often to visit. I’d love to see you, Tami and Linda again sometime. It’s been way too many years.
Maralee, we are getting together August 23 – 26. (Th – Sun). We rent a retreat house in DeSota – near LaCrosse, WI. We head down on Thursday (I think it’s about 3 hr drive, maybe a little longer) and come back Sunday. The next day, Monday, 8/27 I start back for a new school year. Even though I work in the summer as well, it’s another “new year”. Think about joining us!!!! I believe you would find some gorgeous sights to photograph. We watch the sun rise over the Mississippi River as the morning fog rises with it – beautiful. Do give it some serious thought – we would love to have you join us!
Sounds like a lot of fun, Lynn. This year won’t work – I’m going to a conference in Portland on 8/27 and timing wouldn’t work. I know you do this every year so keep me in mind for next year. With enough advance notice I should be able to work it out. I’ll be thinking about you guys.
At first I thought you were reblogging a post from somewhere else. Had to read it twice to figure out that was not the case.
Glad you found something to manage your anxieties, glad it is photography, and glad that you can share your photos.
I think any time something happens that causes you to rethink everything you know about yourself makes you look at the world through different eyes. I now try to make every day count (even though I have to work a lot), and I look at the beauty in even the smallest things.
Can imagine how terrified you must have been. I am glad photography is helping you cope with the anxiety. Stay well Cat.
Thank you.
I want to like this post a zillion times. Photography is therapy for me too. Hugs!
Thanks, Carissa. I know you, more than just about anyone, can relate. Even more so, I’m sure.
Maralee – thank you so much for sharing your story. It makes your photographs even more beautiful! Life is good.
Thank you, Lois. Life is good and I appreciate every day of it more now than ever. I don’t take anything for granted anymore.
I agree. That’s what I’ve learned myself, as a cancer survivor. Every day is gift. And all we’re asked is gratitude.
What a great post Maralee and I’m so sorry to hear you had to go through this all… but for how I see it you are strong enough a woman and you too will survive…and I guess photography is therapy for a lot of us…for me it is for sure! Thanks for sharing your story with us. with love…
Thanks, Joanna.
Great shots… Thanks and Love, nia
Although I’d never wish it to happen to anyone, I know first hand how a near death experience altered forever the way I look at life, and how I notice/appreciate more than ever the smallest details in Nature. I see that awareness, appreciation and beauty woven into all your stunning images as well. Your story and your work touched my heart. Thank you.
Thank you, Rick. Every day is a gift and I intend to treat it that way. I appreciate your comments.
Sadly, another Russel Ray camping trip comes to an end………………..Hope all is well.
Thanks for camping out at my blog for a bit.