Advanced

   

home about cry contacts  medical info  screening fundraising

counselling

research news

Joseph Tanner - Brugada Syndrome Type 3

Sunday 16th March 2008, I had a cardiac arrest and died for 7 minutes. I collapsed at the finishing line of the Hastings half marathon.

I had no clue that I had an undiagnosed heart condition, I always considered myself a healthy person.

Before this fateful day, I would run roughly run 20+ miles a week and I had completed the London Marathon in 2007.

 

I’m thankful that this condition showed itself on this day, at an event where defibrillators were at hand. It scares to think that this could have happened to me any time, people with my condition commonly die in their sleep.

On that Sunday, I was picked up in Hove by others runners I had met through my running group. We all arranged to meet after the race for a lift home. I remember the day being very cloudy and wet.

Before the race I texted 5 of my friends to say that I wasn’t feeling right and to wish me luck, I don’t even remember sending that message, I don’t remember feeling queer!

I woke up in hospital on Wednesday, I had been in intensive care for 2 days.

I remember coming out of intensive care, feeling like I was waking up in a horror film. Everything was explained to me, what happened but I don’t think I ever really took it in, maybe it was the shock that I was lucky to be alive.

When I Died!

When I died,

There were no white lights,

No pearly white gates,

Nor did I fall upon the burning pits of hell.

My life didn’t flash upon my eyes,

Nor did I rekindle those moments I desired!

I did not feel my soul leave my body,

To look down upon my lifeless body.

When they brought me back,

I didn't feel my lungs fill with air,

Nor do I remember my first breath.

For days I laid in intensive care,

Those days were a dreamy haze.

My family sit around my bedside,

All teary eyed, they nearly lost their boy!

Naked as the day I was born

Wired to the elevens,

This is no heaven!

A shock to the system the day I died,

To breathe again,

I cried!

 

I don’t remember running, my body must have gone into-auto pilot, getting me to the finish line in 1 hour 49 minutes.  Once I collapsed St John Ambulance went into action, they realised I was going into cardiac arrest so they shocked me with defibrillators.  I was also told that I had another attack while I was in the ambulance on route to hospital.  My family was phoned, the police visited my work place and told my manager to expect the worst. 

 

After having an MRI scan at Brompton Road I was diagnosed with Brugada Syndrome. It had already been decided that I was going to have an ICD (Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator) inserted but had to wait on the MRI before getting the go ahead.

 

I took everything in my stride, which seemed to surprise a few people. I looked at it that I was lucky to still be here, so I was like "do what you have to do".

 

On the day of my operation, I couldn’t think straight. I had to sign permission for the operation, for the very small possibility that I could die under this procedure. I think that scared me the most, the thought of dying; I showered twice to make sure I was clean.  When I was taken down to theatre, I laid down on the operating table, I was so scared that a solitary tear rolled down my cheek. I remember a nurse asking me if I was okay, I lied ‘cause in truth if I had option I would have ran out of that theatre.

 

4 hours later I woke up in my hospital bed, with a room full of friends, it meant the world to me to be surrounded by so many friends. The next day I was released from hospital, after 3 weeks I was so happy to be out. I was told to take it easy, but on the day of release I was out walking along the beach. A week and half later I was back a work, I wasn’t allowed to do any lifting or climb ladders - among many other things - for about 6 weeks.

 

Life is pretty much back to normal for me now, sometimes I even forget that I have an ICD - though it looks like a bar of soap under my skin.  I found out about CRY by chance. I wrote many blogs about my experience on Facebook and Myspace and a mother who lost her son to a cardiac arrest contacted me after reading one of my blogs - she told me about CRY and all their work.  So I checked out the CRY website, contacted them via email, chatted to Alison a few times, told my story and the rest is history.

 

I’ll continue to raise awareness through CRY and help give support to people that need it.

 

It took me over a year to put back on my running shoes, I was finally able to find the courage after attending a couple CRY Surgery Supporters Network meetings.

 

The only barrier in life is yourself, the moment you say "can’t" is the moment you fail.


Joseph

 

Joseph's experiences have also been featured on the BBC South East Today news
 

 
 

My Box

 

My box,

Protrudes from my beneath my skin,

Intrusive in my mind,

Vanity pays a heavy price.

My heart thumps in my chest,

Not to be seen in the flesh.

I didn’t choose for this intrusion,

Unable to get over these insecurities.

Described as a safety net,

I carry this weight on my mind.

I know I will be fine,

In time my insecurities will fade,

To have this aid,

I’m truly blessed to have my box.

 

Joseph Tanner

 


 

back

 

 

 

 

search & site map

brochure request

my story

links

q & a

donate to CRY


Call us at 01737 363 222 or email us at cry@c-r-y.org.uk

 CRY,
Unit 7, Epsom Downs Metro Centre, Waterfield, Tadworth, Surrey, KT20 5LR
A Company Limited by Guarantee.  Registered in England No. 3052965

Registered Office 35 - 37 Grosvenor Gardens, London SW1 0BY.  Registered Charity No. 1050845
All Copyright reserved by Cardiac Risk in the Young