On finding your community; or how I had heart surgery and told my gaming friends about it

On August 30th at around half 8 in the morning, I got a call from a cardiologist. A week earlier I had been sent for a non-urgent exploration CT scan. We had been trying to find out what was wrong with my body, after a few months of just not feeling right. In April, after stretching in bed, I felt an intense pain and “ripping” in my chest, and over an hour period slow becoming delusional, and losing my sight for 24 hours. I ended up in A&E, where because of my age (29) and symptoms, they wrote it off as just drugs. I will tell you now what I told them the next day as I came around able to see again and form sentences, I wish it was drugs. I also went to A&E in May 2 weeks after this event with a racing heart rate, which they dismissed as anxiety. Again, man I wish it was anxiety.

In the August CT scan we found what was wrong, and the solution was immediate urgent heart surgery. I had dissected my aorta, and that tear in it had dilated over time. Normally your aorta is around 1.5cm across, and it’s what carries blood from the heart to the rest of your body, the main “output”. Well apparently mine was 9cm across, a size beyond fucked, and was ready to rupture and ultimate kill him. I was told in October by the surgeon who led the surgery that my chance of death in just April was 90%, and that to make it as far as I did and also survive the surgery was just very lucky, which I will forever be grateful for.

On the phone with the cardiologist didn’t tell me what was wrong, just that the scan showed something that requires immediate intervention. I had to go to the hospital as soon as possible, and to do it calmly. They had already booked a surgery slot for me the next day and that it was imperative that I get quickly.

5 minutes after picking up the phone, the call that has and will change rest of my life was over. I went downstairs. I looked at my dog and cried. I texted my wife, telling her what I had been told, asking if she could come back from work as soon as possible. I started packing a bag with some clothes and stuff, including things I thought I would need after the surgery like a MacBook for something to do (just as a note, if you ever need to go through something like this, and I hope you don’t, leave that shit at home. You will be so hopped up on drugs you won’t even form coherent sentences.). I messaged my brother and sister, who told me they would come up to the hospital as soon as they could. My wife got home, we ordered an Uber, and by 10am we were at the hospital.

From the moment I arrived at the cardiothoracic ward, I was treated like a fragile glass ornament hanging off the edge of the countertop. They were so concerned for me I was put into a wheelchair, and told to just take it chill. I didn’t know how bad it was at the time, but after the surgery I got to see my CT scan that caused this, and I don’t know how the radiologist who did it looked me in the eye after it was almost comically fucked. The surgeons sat down with my wife and I, and we went through the things that they would do, what medical marvels they would perform, and what life would look like after.

I don’t remember any of these conversations. The stress combined with the cocktail of drugs I was on for the next 2 weeks have wiped my memory of that early period. But I do remember afterwards getting out of my clothes, into a hospital gown, laying down in a bed and waiting. My surgery suddenly got moved up to today. It was only 11:30. I had only found out about it 3 hours prior. Now in 1 hour I was going to be put to sleep. I led next to my wife as I for potentially my last conscious left on this earth, before they would spend 12 hours doing surgery on my cold body which had somehow brought itself to the brink of exile. I was told an 85% survival rate for the surgery. I suppose it could be worse.

I led there in bed, and thought jesus, I should tell everyone, just in case I don’t get another chance. So I started sending messages to my “gaming” friends, who I have met over the years through a few different communities. I started with my closest friend, who I originally met on the FacePunch forums, and playing Team Fortress 2 almost 15 years ago. We ended up going to the same University, living with each other for 2 years, and he would come to my wedding back in March. We talk everyday about the most random shit, it wouldn’t be right to not tell him. He visited me in the hospital a week later and gave me a “Defy Death” MTG card. Thank you so much, your friendship means the world to me.

The next thing was to message a couple of discords I frequent. The most important one to me was the group of friends I had made mostly post University through Melee. They were also at my wedding, and I've been to a couple of their weddings in the last few years too. Compared to the games and wide group of people I had spent my teenage years playing games with, I had spent the last 4-5 years almost exclusively playing games with them. And honestly outside of people I met through work, also socialising with them. They are a huge part of my life.

One final Tweet later explaining it to everyone else, that's it. I must have felt like I had done my diligence on letting people know because I didn't message anyone else. From then, it’s dark and murky for over 2 weeks. The surgery was a success (we don't quite have a ChatGPT for messages beyond the grave yet to write this for me) in that they had fixed 99% of the damage, and my prognosis is good after. I had to have another surgery a week later due to infection, having 750ml+ of “bad shit” in my chest just vibing. Having 3 drains in your stomach is a weird experience. It's even weirder when they pull them out while you're awake.

Finally, proper recovery began. They get you out of the hospital bed and into a chair, get you to cough repeatedly. Then you have to start getting yourself out of the bed and walking to the toilet. The last thing is going up and down a few stairs.

This whole experience fucking sucked. But it did give me a lot of time to think, amongst sleeping, shitting myself and swearing. I write like one article a year, and I had been wanting to write an article for a years about the importance of “finding your community”, about how it is both important but also difficult to find your people. But I never had the reason to. Until now, and you’re reading it, despite the shitty stuff written above.

The original idea of the article was to be some piece about finding like minded people, so you're not alone. Some people will go through horrible experiences, worse than what I went and continue to go through. Having groups of people you can talk to about it, and other things, makes all the difference in the world. I sent some messages to people whilst in hospital which I look back on, and they are bleak. But every time people helped bring me back up, see the positives of the now. You think you are strong willed until you aren’t, and you will need a community around you. But let me tell you, those people I have found through gaming forums around Garry's Mod, Team Fortress 2 and Melee are some of the greatest people I will ever meet.

A month before my surgery, I went to a friend's wedding. I spent 4 hours straight dancing horribly at that wedding because some part of me felt like I needed to, like my body knew it might be the last time. Earlier in the day during the grooms speech, he mentioned the importance of the groups of people he had found that got him to this point. To paraphrase my interpretation of what he said; it takes a village. We usually say that to talk about raising kids. But a village of people came together to save my life. From the amazing surgeons, consultants, doctors and hardest working nurses of all time. To my brother and sister, who I wasn’t able to see before the surgery but knew I was in good hands to see me after. And yes, those gaming friends I met through Melee. Those people who beat me frequently at this dumb Nintendo game where you can play as Link and Mario.

Most importantly I want to mention my amazing wife, who visited for as long as she could every day. Who coped with this far better than I did, or would have been able to if I was in her position. Who dealt with all the other things like admin, dealing with family members and friends, asking the right questions to the right people which I never would have been able to do. Who when whilst I cried in hospital, consoled me and let me know she loved me.

My medical outcome from all of this is hopefully positive. Because I was fitted with a loud, ever ticking mechanical heart valve there isn’t a reason I couldn’t live to the age of 70 if I follow the rules. No lifting heavy things, no moving furniture, keep your blood pressure low, take your daily drugs. As one doctor described it, “you are now a useless 29 year old”, and I will be useless for the rest of my life. I feel like shit still over 2 months later, but I’m not dead, something I will be grateful for everyday. I don’t know whether I will die in 3 days, or in 50 years, but I can at least be thankful for what I have right now. I won’t go to a Melee event for a long while, but if I ever see any of you again in person, come say hello.

Keep your community close, even if someone tells you it is just a Video Game. You don’t know when one day you will need them.

Also I do think it's very funny that someone handed me a phone whilst I was drugged up and in a bad way from an infection, and I retweeted the stupid Twitter anniversary auto tweet