Mary

Atrial fibrillation

Cardiac arrest

Carer’s story

Caring and courage through husband’s heart surgery battles

Mary drew on every ounce of her nursing experience when her husband’s atrial fibrillation led to a cardiac arrest and open-heart surgery. Her story shows the strength, and support, carers need.

Mary has spent much of her life caring for others. A former operating theatre nurse, she understands the toll illness takes. 

She is also a wife, a mum of three, and a soon-to-be grandmother. But nothing prepared her for caring for her husband Kevin.

For years, Kevin has lived with the heart rhythm condition atrial fibrillation (AF). It worsened over time and eventually led to a cardiac arrest and, more recently, surgery to stabilise his rhythm.  

Juggling life and the role of carer

Navigating Kevin’s health challenges alongside other work and personal challenges was a juggling act, says Mary. 

“Between working as a nurse, working at the library, and my mother having cancer at the time, I had quite a bit on my plate,” she explains. “And then of course with Kevin as well.”

Although Kevin first experienced AF in the 1990s, it wasn’t officially diagnosed until the late 2010s.

It became harder to control, with longer episodes and more frequent hospital visits. Mary began noticing subtle changes, such as the constant checking of his pulse, his fatigue and his inability to do as much as he used to. 

“When he started needing cardioversions, a procedure to reset the heart rhythm – what we called ‘jumpstarts’ – that was when it started getting a bit serious."

While her clinical background helped, it also made things harder.

“I got to the point where I knew when something wasn’t right without him saying anything,” she says. “You just pick up on it. You understand just enough to know when something’s not right. That can be scary.”

Despite this, she felt that Kevin was on top of his own health.

The turning point

In 2023, Kevin went in for an ablation – a planned procedure they hoped would improve his heart rhythm.

 But during the procedure, things went badly wrong. Mary noticed a shift in staff activity and behaviour.

“I kind of knew something was going on. When the emergency stuff goes off and you're looking and seeing it's the theatre they've gone into you know there's something not right.

“I’ve worked in that environment. I could tell something was happening.”

Waiting for news on Kevin’s situation felt endless. “You’re sitting there thinking, ‘What’s going on?’ You don’t know, but you know it’s not good”

“I remember thinking, ‘What do I do?’” she says. “You’re trying to process it, but it doesn’t feel real. Like you’re looking in on something rather than living it.”

The need to call on her own support

In that moment, Mary knew she needed someone to lean on. She called a close friend, who was also a nurse. Her friend came straight to the hospital and stayed by her side while they waited for news.

Doctors soon confirmed Kevin was critically unwell. He’d had a cardiac arrest during the procedure and required CPR.

“It was very scary not knowing and just waiting to hear any updates. You feel a bit numb too, because you're going no, this is not really happening.”

Kevin’s cardiac arrest meant they couldn’t finish the procedure he went in for.

Mary’s friend stayed with her during Kevin’s time in the hospital, checking on her and being her support person while he was in the ICU.

In the ICU, the challenges continued. Kevin was disoriented and unable to remember what had happened.

“He kept saying, ‘What happened?’” Mary recalls. “And I just kept repeating it. That was quite hard too. I was like, ‘God, is he going to be ok?’”

Contacting the family to inform them of Kevin’s situation was difficult for Mary.

“I don’t ever want to do that again. It was a lot of phone calls.”

Their children rallied around them, each in their own way. Mary tried to protect them where she could but also learned the importance of honesty.

“My youngest said to me, ‘Don’t not tell me. I need to know.’ And she handled it better than I expected.

“You realise you can’t do it all yourself. Even if you think you can.”

The emotional ride while caring for Kevin

Kevin eventually stabilised and came home, but recovery brought its own challenges. There were medications, follow-ups, and the constant balancing act of encouraging rest while managing his determination to keep going.

Just a year later in 2024, they were facing another major hurdle: open-heart surgery.

Because they couldn’t complete the initial procedure when he had a cardiac arrest, the specialist pushed for Kevin to get a Cox maze procedure done.

“The specialist said, ‘You must have it. There’s no two ways about it. You must have it, or in a few years’ time, you probably won’t be with us,’” Mary explains.

After everything that had happened, Kevin was hesitant. Mary says he questioned everything, asking whether he really had to have it done.

It was a difficult time for Mary as a carer. She wanted to respect her husband’s fears and concerns, but she also knew she had to help him through the unknown and eventually reach a decision that would be best for his wellbeing.

“I said, ‘It's up to you. It's entirely up to you. It's your decision what you decide. But yes, you really need to have it.’

“It did take him a little bit of time to come around. I knew he had to do it, but he just wasn't very keen. I think it gave him a real fright. In the end he had to come to the decision himself.”

The lead-up was emotionally draining, especially when surgery was delayed.

“He was really angry. He said he wasn’t coming back. It took a lot to get to the point where he agreed again.”

When the surgery finally went ahead, Mary tried to keep busy by going to work while she waited. But as the hours stretched longer than expected, the anxiety crept in.

“You start thinking, ‘Why is it taking so long?’” she says. Then the call came. The surgery had gone well. “It was just relief.”

This time, recovery was smoother. Kevin was more alert, more himself.

Today, he’s back doing more of the things he enjoys. Walking further. Going to the gym. But sometimes he’ll go against Mary’s advice.

“He doesn’t always listen,” she laughs. “I had to tell him to take it easy and not overdo it. Males tend to think they know everything and they can do everything they want to. But he’s doing a lot better. That’s what matters.”

Mary’s advice for other carers

Looking back, Mary reflects on what it means to be a carer and the difficulty of navigating your own fears.

“Patience is a big one. It’s scary for them. Even if it’s scary for you too, you have to try and understand what they’re going through.”

Mary has since gained a new perspective, not just as a nurse or a carer, but as someone who has seen how quickly life can change.

She also emphasises the importance of giving and receiving support.

"Having friends there to talk to when needed and being supported, I think that made a huge difference to me. Take help when it's offered. You need to lean on those around you."

While Kevin’s journey has often been the focus, Mary’s story is a reminder that carers’ stories often go unheard. 

“Kevin gets to talk about his journey. But I don’t really get a chance to talk about mine.”

Now, she has.