Can Teenagers get Heart Attacks?

So this happened last night. 

I dropped Colin for practice and went to the lake. It was an absolutely gorgeous and warm fall day, and I was fortunate enough to find.a parking space for one hour. 

When my meter expired, I went to my usual place for a yummy Poke Bowl and free wifi, then I went to get dinner for Colin and pulled into the arena's parking area somewhat early. It was shortly after 8pm.

To my surprise Colin was already there, waiting.

"What happened?" I asked. He's usually among the last guys to make their way out of the shower.

He gestured to his chest and made a face.

"Are you hurt?"

I knew for a fact that the teammate who tends to injure other kids was on vacation or suspended,  but either way not here tonight.

Colin said he had left the ice early because he had a sudden onset of stabbing chest pain.

"What? How? Did you get hit by a stick or an elbow?"

No, it just started. I've had this before, during off ice practice, but then I sat down, and after a couple of minutes it went away. This time it's still around, even as I just sit here, and especially when I lean forward like this.

He demonstrated the movement.

My mind was racing. He didn't seem short of breath, but I didn't like that he was still in pain.

I started driving. 

He grabbed his sandwich and smoothie.

Oh good, he's hungry. If he felt like eating, he couldn't be that bad off?

After wolfing down his dinner, he pulled out his phone and started playing.

"How are you doing? Any better?"

No, still the same. 

"Should we call MedGate?"

That'd be great.

If my son wants to talk to a doctor, he's really not feeling well. 

MedGate is an organization of medical professionals, run by our health insurance company. They prefer patients calling in instead of running to the doctor's office for things that could well be solved over the phone. If they feel we should still go to the ER - the only place still open at this time of day - they will tell us.

The triage person took Colin's complaint and said the doctors were pretty busy, and it'd be a good half hour until someone was going to become available to call us back.

They are so cute. 

• Half an hour is the amount of time I usually need to reach the pediatric practice.
• Half an hour is the minimum amount of time we will wait in said pediatric practice's office, even if we had arranged for a regular appointment way ahead.

We were approaching the freeway exit to go home when the half hour was up.

"Colin, how are you feeling? Unchanged? I was thinking... The doctor on the phone probably can't help you much without listening to your heart and lungs. Should be keep driving to the ER?"

Again, he nodded. Poor guy.

I just hope we'll be back in time for me to watch NHL, he added.

*Sigh* He may be in pain, but he's got his priorities straight ;-)

We arrived at the hospital at 9pm. The waiting area was full, and it was hot and sticky in there. Babies crying, older siblings running around, parents talking on the phone to their relatives, you get the picture. 

But here we were, and within a reasonable amount of time, a triage nurse took care of him.

Then we had to wait. Good thing he brought his book, this was going to take a while. 

The hospital clown, Dr U. Fröhlich made an appearance. Fröhlich is German for cheerful. I had heard of this charity program but never met any of these wonderful people. All across Switzerland, there's 75 of them, they call themselves Dr Chic, Dr Flash or Dr Stracciatella, and they visit 100,000 kids every year.

Just like the other staff members, our clown doctor (he's an artist with some medical training) wears a badge, and his job title is "Humor Resources Manager", haha good one. 

He talked to the younger kids, made them laugh and forget about their pain for a moment. He even did magic tricks.

Colin was reading his book but still listening and enjoying the shenanigans.

By 9:30pm we were brought to a treatment room. There were three beds, and one was occupied. Not much later, there were going to be four patients in this three bed rooms that used to be a one bed room a few years ago. 

A friendly nurse took his blood pressure. "I read here your pain started as you were playing hockey?" she asked. "Where do you play? Zug? They won the championship, right? Awesome."

I loved her. Not only did she connect with her patient beyond the medical issue, but she engaged him in an animated conversation about his favourite topic, making him feel at ease.

Then the next nurse arrived with a cart.

"Hi, I'm (insert name), I'm going to do an ECG, do you know what this is?"

She explained that she was going to stick some electrodes on your chest, wrists and ankles, which were going to be connected to the machine by lead wires. Then the electrical activity of his heart was going to be measured, interpreted and printed out.

They were not kidding around. A 14 year old complains of chest pain, and they were giving him an ECG. On one hand I was glad they were being thorough, on the other hand I hoped this wasn't going to reveal something worrisome.

Just the other weekend I had talked to a fellow Hockey Mom. I had noticed that her talented son must have dropped out of his age group's future pro league and was now playing with the regular folks. She told me why. 

Everything was going well for him, they offered him a contract for our organisation's dual program: college and hockey. A dream coming true, right? Teachers, various coaches, the management, I think it's about seven parties that need to give the green light, everybody signed off. Last hurdle to take, and usually a routine thing, was the medical check. 

Guess what, they diagnosed a congenital heart defect. The boy never had any issues, no symptoms, and the doctors didn't recommend surgery at this young age, but they could not in good faith let him pursue a professional athletic career.

What a shock, and how bitter for the young man!

So this is what was lingering in the back of my mind. Please don't let them find a serious thing!

The cardiac tech left, and the room was filling up with new patients. A teenage girl who was given IV antibiotics and pain meds, The boy with the sprained ankle from earlier, and a couple with their nine months old son who thought he was now a big boy, and it was time for him to walk, came in. He fell and hit his head, but he seemed fine. Very active, very attentive, he started to rip off the entire paper that was placed to cover the bed. He did a great job at it, too! 

We had a similar ER visit when Colin was a bit older, and I remember how scary it was. I couldn't believe where time had gone. Just the other day I was in here with a baby, and now he's a young man!

Flashback to June 2010

Around 10:45pm a resident came in. She palpated his chest area and listened to his heart and lungs. 

"It can happen that a pulmonary alveolus bursts during strong physical exertion, and this is painful", she explained. "However, this is not the case here. Your lungs are well ventilated all the way. The ECG looks normal, too, as it should for a handsome young athlete. I assume what is bothering you is a pulled muscle, and I will give you a prescription for a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory lotion and some pain meds."

11pm. Trip to the hospital's drug store, open 24 hours, very convenient.

Home and in bed by 11:30. At least for me. 

Colin planned to stay awake until 1am when Colorado Avalanche was going to play against Minnesota Wild. And the Penguins against the Canadiens. As I can see on my app, they went into overtime. No wonder he's still asleep (11am the next morning). I hope it's a good and relaxing sleep.

The one question he had for the doc before we left was if he was OK to practice and play?

"If you feel you're doing OK, go for it. If the pain comes back, take a break, otherwise you will just make it worse. Good luck to you, I expect to see you on TV in a few years!"

She also answered my (unasked) question: "Teenagers do not get heart attacks."

Good to know.