When DEATH comes knocking on your door

I was sure that my time had come to leave.

So early?

My youngest child is only four years old.

My stomach had been hurting all day. During the night, the pain became quite severe. I thought about going to the bathroom, but on the way, I felt weak, and it seemed like I was about to faint.

My spouse came and said, "I'll help you downstairs, don't go to the stairs alone."

I replied, "I can manage on my own, no worries..."

The next thing I remember is being on the floor downstairs.

I had passed out on the stairs and tumbled the rest of the way down.

I noticed my forehead hurt a little. I must have banged it on a chair.

I realized I was lying on the downstairs floor. It was pleasantly cool there, and I felt a little better. Not great, but better.

"I’m taking you to Peijas Hospital, now. Wait, I’ll get the car to the door," my spouse said.

I remember thinking on the floor that if life ends like this, it’s actually a pretty peaceful way to go. There’s no pain, and you don’t even realize death is coming.

At the hospital, I was taken in quickly. I was pale, sweaty, and feeling weak. Heart disease runs in my family, so I was treated as a possible heart attack case.

My spouse wasn’t allowed to come with me to the monitoring unit. Our paths separated quickly. I didn’t even get to say "goodbye."

"Life is harsh," I thought.

On the other hand, I wasn’t too panicked. A little worried, but not panicked.

They hooked me up to a monitor, checked my blood pressure, and other vital signs. Many doctors came to ask questions.

Soon, I was taken for a CT scan to rule out a possible aortic rupture. The results were good. The scan showed nothing abnormal.

During the night, I started to feel better. My stomach wasn’t as painful anymore. I didn’t sleep much because the monitoring unit is a restless place.

In the morning, I was moved to the cardiac monitoring unit. The chief doctor had decided it was necessary to perform an angiogram to investigate whether I had a heart attack caused by coronary artery disease.

I waited all day for the angiogram, but it was postponed to the next day. I was feeling quite good by then, but I wasn’t allowed to get out of bed without assistance. I was on bed rest.

I lay in bed, watching Instagram videos until I was bored...

The next morning, I finally had the angiogram. The idea of inserting a catheter through my artery to check my heart was a bit nerve-wracking, but the strong professionalism of the nurses and doctor put me at ease. I knew that this was perhaps the best place in Finland to perform this procedure, and I had possibly the best doctor in the country. No worries.

The results were a relief. My heart’s blood vessels are clear. There’s no sign of coronary artery disease. I have a healthy athlete's heart.

Phew...

My spouse sent a message asking, "What are you feeling now?"

"Gratitude," I replied.

For many other patients, the findings were the exact opposite. I had a massive reason to be grateful.

Relief was the other emotion that washed over me.

I was happy.

The next day, I was discharged. The doctor concluded that the fainting likely resulted from a temporary drop in blood pressure caused by the stomach pain.

No final cause for the acute stomach pain was found. However, due to my family history and the risk of sudden cardiac death during ultra running, the chief doctor had decided it was essential to investigate thoroughly.

I am deeply grateful for the thorough examination. I pay high taxes and have good insurance, but for many people in countries like the United States, access to such care is not available due to insufficient funds.

As an active person, I immediately asked the doctor, "When can I go for a run?"

"Right away," the doctor said, since I had no heart problems.

I got home and went for a walk in the forest. I didn’t run, just walked 8 kilometers. For some reason, I felt like starting to move slowly. :)

I rejoiced in being alive and able to move in nature. I don’t need much more than that.

I was lucky. I got off with a scare. Many of the patients I met in the hospital were not so lucky. Many are still there. Many had been there for weeks. Many are fighting between life and death. Some will make it, some won’t.

Life can be beautiful, but it can also be terrible.

For me, this was a welcome wake-up call. I am deeply grateful for this episode, even though it shook me a bit.

Why do I embrace such a frightening experience with open arms?

Because I feel it’s practically a "gift from heaven" for me. It’s a wonderful opportunity to wake up to reality, appreciate the gift of life, and do everything I can to live healthily and take care of myself. If I die young, it will be sad for my family.

Nothing in life is guaranteed or promised.

Death could come even tonight. We don’t have total control over life, but it would be irresponsible and foolish to live unhealthily after such a wake-up call.

I haven’t lived particularly poorly. I’m in fairly good physical shape, I exercise a lot, I don’t drink excessively, etc. Where I’ve fallen short is in my diet. I’ve eaten poorly, and this increases my risk of developing coronary artery disease or diabetes over the next 20 years.

What am I going to do now?

Actually, I didn’t wait. I took action immediately after getting home. I’m a man of action. I won’t list my exact diet changes here, but I will say that:

• I’ll eat as healthily as I can from now on
• I’ll exercise even more than before
• I’ll get enough sleep
• I’ll avoid stress like the plague, though it’s tough as an entrepreneur
• I’ll try to live a balanced life
• I’ll work to ensure that I, my spouse, and our children are happy together

These are just a few points. The list is, of course, longer, and it will evolve over time, but the main thing is that:

• I’m starting the change IMMEDIATELY
• I’m investing time, effort, and money into acquiring the knowledge I need for this change
• I understand that this is a lifelong process, and I will never be "finished"
• I realize there’s no going back to how things were
• I accept that there will be weak moments and setbacks, but after each one, I’ll get back on track right away
• I know that no one else can make this change for me; it’s 100% up to me

Life is short, in the end. A hospital visit reminds you that life is not to be wasted.

I remember watching videos of ultra-running competitions from around the world in the hospital and thinking, "When this is over, I’m going to train so damn hard and run these races even at 75."

Why?

Because for me, running and endurance sports symbolize freedom and the joy of life. They give me so many happy moments that lying in that hospital bed, I decided to maximize those moments through sports.

Of course, sports are only a part of life, and family forms the foundation of happiness, but this was the thought that hit me like lightning from a clear sky.

Why am I sharing this story with you?

I feel it’s my duty to remind the people who read my writings how important it is to appreciate the gift of life and genuinely put effort into healthy living.

You only understand the meaning of life when you face tragedy. This time I was incredibly lucky, but next time might be different. So, I find it necessary to do everything I can to ensure that this "next time" comes as late as possible for me, my spouse, and my children.

All the best!