Police officers and body builders rush in and out the doors of Just Move gym in South Lakeland.
This place is for hard-core fitness buffs. Personal trainers push their clients hard, and there are stair steppers and treadmills for as far as the eye can see.
In the middle of them, generally on the cardiorespiratory machines but sometimes over by the weights, is 37-year-old Eric Bentz. His short, slender frame belies his strength, both physical and mental. Just Move gym is where it begins and ends for Mr. Bentz.
In October 2017, Bentz, a paramedic, was in the Emergency Department of Lakeland Regional Health, but as a patient, not an emergency responder. His right coronary artery was 100% blocked. He was having a massive heart attack that began a few hours before.
On Halloween morning, Mr. Bentz was working out at Just Move to get in shape for an agility test in hopes of joining Polk County’s Fire Rescue squad. After 5 minutes on the stair climber that morning, he felt really winded. He normally warms up on the stair stepper, followed by a 30-minute workout.
“I told my trainer I could feel my heart beating really fast,” said Bentz, who recalled his heart rate as rapid as 165 beats per minute.
His trainer suggested he go home, about a 5-minute drive. Thinking maybe his blood sugar was low, Mr. Bentz stopped at a gas station to pick up beef jerky and a soda and then made his way home.
“When I pulled into my apartment complex, I had a very strange feeling in the back of my jaw. I had pressure and pain on both sides of my jaw,” said Bentz, who said he knew he had prehypertension that had been left untreated for about 15 years.
His blood pressure was regularly 140/90, but with no family history of heart disease, he wasn’t terribly concerned about his high blood pressure. He also wasn’t a big fan of doctor visits, finally seeing one just four weeks before. And there was the smoking habit he’d had since he was 16 years old.
“I hadn’t had a primary care physician for a long time.”
The blood-pressure medicine he was now on didn’t help him on October 31, however. He was now throwing up and having vision problems and sweating profusely inside the apartment that he shared with his new bride, Rebecca “Nicole” Bentz.
“At 36 years old, I was in complete denial. I said, ‘There is no possible way I am having a heart attack.’”
Using his emergency medicine training, Mr. Bentz laid down and put his feet up to try to get his heart rate to slow. “I was still in total denial, and I did feel a little bit better after I put my feet up.”
All the while, he was talking on and off with Nicole, who was at her job in Bartow.
“I stand up, and I had this feeling of impending doom,” Mr. Bentz says, pausing to explain that recounting the day’s events is still very emotional for him. “I definitely knew something wasn’t right. I was struggling with what I wanted to do.” He wanted very much to believe it was an anxiety attack, but tingling and numbness were creeping up his arm.
Nicole Bentz swiftly decided to call 9-1-1 when parts of the conversations started to become nonsensical.
Because he shares a kinship with fellow rescue workers, he somehow has a sharp recollection of all those who he says saved his life that day.
Engine 71 of Lakeland Fire Rescue was on scene for 9 minutes, where they took his blood pressure (180/114) and hooked him up to a cardiac monitor.
Looking up at the face of the rescue medic said it all. “He said, ‘Brother, you’re having a massive heart attack right now.’ And I lost it. I was so scared.”
Lakeland Regional Health’s Chest Pain Center team was alerted about Bentz through an initiative with Polk County’s Emergency Medical Services that authorizes paramedics to initiate the call that brings in the on-call cardiac interventional team at the Medical Center. The national benchmark set by the Society for Cardiovascular Patient Care for acute heart attack care is 90 minutes or less. Lakeland Regional Health Medical Center consistently treats acute heart attack patients in 40 to 45 minutes. The Medical Center was ready for Bentz when he arrived.
Mr. Bentz was given intravenous fluids and four baby aspirin to help dissolve any clots forming in his arteries.
“The ER team was just phenomenal. I was in there a total of 3 minutes maybe, and as they wheeled me to the cath lab, the ER nurse was alongside of me the whole time, holding my hand, reassuring me everything was going to be OK.”
He was able to kiss his wife right before they whisked him into an operating room and prepared to insert a stent through his right wrist. That’s where his intense memory of that day begins to fade.
The stent props the artery open to prevent future narrowing and blockages. His procedure was tremendously successful and he was discharged three days later.
“I am so lucky to be here,” said Bentz, stepfather of three, ages 12 to 21 years. “That’s why they call a complete closure of a coronary artery a ‘widowmaker.’ People go to sleep because they feel tired, and then they never wake up.”
Today, Mr. Bentz takes a blood thinner twice a day, baby aspirin every morning, blood pressure medicine and a beta blocker once a day and a cholesterol-lowering medicine at bedtime. He says he eats healthier, reads nutritional information on food packaging and limits his sodium intake to 2,000 milligrams each day. His cardiologist, Dr. Avinash Khanna, said his arteries look good and recently cleared him for restriction-free physical activity.
“He says I’m going to live a long, healthy life.”