Sue

Aortic dissection

High blood pressure

‘I might not make it’: Sue’s recovery after aortic dissection

Sue (Kāi Tahu and Pākehā) has lived with health challenges for much of her life, but nothing prepared her for the day an aortic dissection changed her life.

High pressure job and health challenges

Sue had thyroid cancer surgery in her 20s and was recently diagnosed with mild COPD, a chronic, progressive lung disease that makes breathing harder. The hospital advised her she had structural damage to her lungs caused by childhood asthma. 

None of it stopped her from leading an active life dedicating her life to family and most of her career to public service, working in dispute resolution and mediation.  

She enjoyed the purpose of the work, dealing with discrimination and harassment cases, but the job had become high pressure especially through and since the pandemic.   

Still, she took care of herself. She never smoked, hardly drank, was an avid tramper in her 50s, and has been vegetarian for more than 50 years.  

Sue never suspected an aortic dissection would turn her life upside down.

The day everything changed

On 13 February 2024, Sue then aged 65, went into the office after a hectic summer caring for her mum, who had dementia and juggling work.  

“When you’re stressed you never think about checking your blood pressure… the last thing you think about is self‑care.” 

After a cup of tea, she sat back at her desk and was hit by an excruciating band of pain across her forehead at eye level, followed by a sudden loss of vision. 

Her vision gradually started to return.  Struggling to see the numbers on her phone, and unsure whether it was a migraine Sue asked a close colleague to dial her GP surgery. She was instructed to call 111 immediately.  

Sue vomited while waiting for the ambulance.  Paramedics arrived almost immediately and ran their tests.  One of them couldn’t find a pulse in her right arm. She was rushed to Auckland City Hospital.

“You could die before we get you to theatre”

Fast‑tracked through the ED, Sue heard a diagnosis she’d never encountered: a Type A aortic dissection. It’s a rare, life‑threatening emergency where a tear in the inner lining of the aorta (the main artery from the heart) lets blood surge between layers of the artery wall and forces them apart. 

Fully conscious, she asked what it meant. The caring ED doctor was blunt. He told her she might not survive to reach the operating table, or through surgery, and there was a risk of organ damage. Sue told him she was sure the doctors would do the best they could. 

“They phoned my husband Geoff.  They asked him if he wanted to come into the hospital to see me before I went into surgery, but they emphasised it was urgent to get me into surgery as soon as possible.  He didn't want to delay that.  I told Geoff, ‘I love you.’ I asked him to phone my daughter and tell her I loved her and my son-in-law and grandson and to look after each other if I didn’t make it."   

“I didn’t have time to make sense of it all. But I did take in the fact I might not make it.” 

The next thing she remembers is waking in ICU the following morning. 

The scale of what she survived

Only later did Sue start to understand how close she had come to dying. The surgeon told her the entire upper section of her aorta had been replaced with a graft, although her heart valves were spared.   

Remarkably, she had no neurological or organ damage – something she attributes to the speed of diagnosis and surgery. Being at work in the city, close to a major hospital, is a key reason she believes she’s still alive. 

“If I’d been at home on my own, it could have been a different outcome,” she says.  

“My sight wasn’t good enough to use my phone. I was lucky I was close to the best hospital.” 

Looking back, Sue says there were almost no warning signs.  

“It all happened so quickly. I was totally unaware that I had any blood pressure issues. The only symptom I had was a very mild headache for a few days before it happened. Not for a second did I think I’d better check my blood pressure.” 

Recovery and starting again

Sue was discharged after a week and returned to the care of her GP. That first month at home was tough.  

Determined to give herself the best chance of a good recovery, she followed the 12‑week open heart surgery guidelines closely.  

“There was no lifting, no hanging out washing, no heavy tasks at all.” 

She felt lucky that Geoff, a self‑employed roof fixer, could step in as her carer, especially for the first month, helping with showering and doing all the housework, gardening etc.  

Quiet activities like jigsaw puzzles, knitting and reading filled her days.  Gentle walks with family, friends and her two dogs helped her rebuild confidence until she felt safe to walk on her own again (always with a phone). 

“In those early days of recovery, I just felt so lucky that we have our own home in a quiet neighbourhood” she says. “I sat on the deck with our two border terriers, looked out onto the bush and watched the tūī and a lone kererū. It was finding joy in the small things and eventually being well enough to do something I couldn’t in the early months, like vacuuming again.” 

"During my recovery I had plenty of time to decide what I would do next.  I had intended to work until my late 60s but I decided not to return to my job."   

Feeling the need to ease back on her regular bush restoration working-bee duties, Sue started volunteering at the Kaipātiki EcoHub.  

“I volunteer roughly once a week in the native plant nursery where I can do light tasks. It was about scaling down something I love and not totally giving it up.”

Emotional impact and changes to her body

Even though Sue tried to “stay very positive” and felt incredibly grateful to be alive, the emotional impact took time to catch up.  

Her GP gently reminded her she had been through a trauma. A few months into her recovery, for the first time in her life, Sue found herself worrying “What if I die?” and how Geoff would cope if something happened to her – or how she would cope if something happened to him. 

“At 65, I hadn’t expected to have those thoughts until my 80s if at all,” she says. “There’s something fundamentally different about having open‑heart surgery. Maybe it brings about a vulnerability, a sense of the fragility of life.” 

"When I was in hospital, I asked a doctor about the risk of having another aortic dissection.  She told me there is a 25% chance of having another cardiovascular event if you don't make lifestyle changes".   

One way Sue helped herself through was keeping her mindset positive and taking one day at a time.  

"I do have a fear of it happening again because of the life-threatening nature of aortic dissection, but it also motivates me to do whatever I can to keep myself well.” 

Sue still faces some minor challenges.  “I sometimes have short‑term memory issues and, intermittently, visual disturbances. I might still get a band of achiness around my chest if I overdo it in the garden.  Fatigue can be an issue. I believe the medication can cause this".

Suggestions for others

As Sue’s life settles into a new normal, she hopes the things that helped her can help others.  

"Prioritise what is important in life  - family first".    

Support made a big difference. For Sue, that means family and friends, a GP she can trust, resources like the Aortic Hope Patient Guide, and, crucially, a Heart Foundation–referred aortic dissection support group.  

She encourages people to find simple tools to steady the mind. One that stuck from a Facebook support group was the mantra, “breathe in hope, breathe out fear”.  

Mindfulness skills – like noticing emotions, not pushing them away, and then letting them go – have also been key.  

“Letting go of things is really important, especially when you’re trying to keep stress down for the long term.” 

Sue is very grateful to survivors Peter and Jenny for meeting her once she had connected with the Facebook support group.  Talking with people who truly understood helped her feel less alone and led to practical solutions, like seeing a hypertension specialist to tweak her medication and using a smartwatch to keep an eye on her heart rate and activity. She urges others to push for advice tailored to their specific condition, especially around exercise. 

"I learnt about exercise physiologists when I attended the 2024 Aortic Dissection Awareness Day.  Several months later I decided to get an assessment and exercise programme from an exercise physiologist.  This has transformed my life.  I recognise I am lucky that I can afford to pay for this service.  I now have a safe home based exercise programme, which I get reviewed every few months.  I have been able to go back to day hikes around the Auckland region with a slower paced women's tramping group which has a very safety conscious leader". 

Her advice is to go easy on yourself and lean on support - "recognise there will be good days and other days when you don't feel up to doing much".   

“I will be forever immensely grateful to the ED team, cardiothoracic surgeon Mr Indran Ramanathan and his surgical team, and everyone else who helped to save my life and took care of me.  I am also very grateful for the love and support of family, friends and my now former employer and colleagues.” 

“Hurihia tō aroaro ki te rā, tukuna tō ātārangi kia taka ki muri i a koe.”   

Turn your face towards the sun and let the shadows fall behind you.