IHOP/Pancakes: My first lesson in staying calm in emergencies.

If I ever publish, I want it to be in this font. I adore Crimson Text.

Anyways, onto IHOP. If you ever see me posting IHOP or some variation of the pancake stack emoji or waffle, this means I’ve had heart symptoms that are bad enough that I either need to go to the ER, or I’m already there. This is due to previous experiences at the establishment.

Let’s go back. I used to attend a monthly group called Hearts of Gold, which is a group of teenagers with heart problems who meet up and do various activities together. One time we did a haunted tour of Vancouver, complete with jump scare. I remember remarking on that trip that whoever planned that didn’t really think it through, but hey, this was the same group where I started the tradition of taking a group photo in front of the Playland ride warning sign saying not to go on the rides if you had heart issues. One event was having lunch at IHOP then going on to do something else, honestly I don’t remember what. It was a lovely sunny day. I was looking forward to seeing my friends at the group, so when I saw Elijah through the window of the car, I waved excitedly. We parked, I got out, and Elijah was on the ground in front of IHOP. He had gone into cardiac arrest in the time it took us to park the car and get out. I ran over along with my dad, and because I knew Elijah had a fancy pacemaker/defibrillator combo installed, I had to resist the instinct to touch him. His mom was already on the phone to 911, and I knelt beside him. I asked what happened, and his parents told us that he just went down right before they got to the front door. His internal defibrillator had done its job, getting him back without anyone having to do chest compressions or having to find the closest AED. Learn your CPR, folks. He woke up after exactly the amount of time that feels too long for anyone once you know their heart stopped, any length of time. I asked him how he felt, and we folded up a sweater to put under his head. I also asked him if it was safe to touch him, as in, “Hey buddy, the shocks all done? Can I touch you without getting zapped?”I remember one of the first things he said was a complaint that his arm was sore. When an internal defibrillator goes off, the shock also goes down the arm due to its placement and proximity to said arm. Unsurprisingly, an electrical shock, or several, well, it hurts like hell.

I’m forever grateful to him because he was the first instance of learning that I'm good in emergency situations. Not much more emergent than your friend’s heart stopping. I don’t know why I took charge of the situation and made sure we got him comfortable, and used my dad’s watch to check his pulse. All I know is I saw him on the ground and knew I had to help however I could. At the end of it all, Elijah was fine and is still alive and kicking ass to this day. Unfortunately, he had to miss lunch at IHOP. We all agreed, the friends I had at HoG, that IHOP or pancakes were the new code words for if something went wrong enough with our hearts to require an ER trip. We’d ask “IHOP?” if someone mentioned a symptom, and basically they’d reply “No” if the symptom was normal/not serious, and “IHOP” if we needed to call 911 or they were already on their way to the ER.

Signing off for the evening,

Drunk off Heart Condition