I'm a CEO who experienced a 'widow-maker' heart attack in a meeting. Returning to work made me reassess my value.

It was an incredibly taxing morning. I was seated at my home office desk, collaborating with my team to iron out the final details for an impending trade exhibition. As I rose to fetch a drink, I barely managed a few steps before I began hyperventilating and had to collapse onto the floor.

I messaged my partner with urgency, mentioning, 'I'm experiencing something odd. Cold sweats and chest discomfort but no pain in my arm. It doesn't feel like a heavy weight.'

She promptly contacted emergency services. I informed my COO via text saying, 'I won't be rejoining the meeting. Something's off.' I also contacted my public relations manager.

Upon arrival at the hospital, doctors identified the crisis as a 'widow-maker' heart attack, marked by five severe blockages, necessitating immediate bypass surgery. Nine hours post-operation, I found myself recuperating in the ICU.

Prior to surgery, I managed brief conversations with my partner and visiting friends and family, during which my emotions finally surfaced.

Before succumbing to emotion, my focus was still on work matters, even urging my PR manager to prepare an announcement. Maybe it was a touch of irrational self-importance.

Leading a membership-driven organization, I was concerned about my absence from a trade show with a significant audience. Despite my absence, the show would proceed. Yet, in critical moments, every detail feels amplified in importance.

Path to Recuperation

I categorized my recuperation period into two phases. Initially, the first three months focused on physical recovery, followed by a mental and emotional phase.

As the initial healing phase concluded, introspection led me to ponder existential questions, like ‘Why was I fortunate enough to survive?’

I sought out a therapist with expertise in experiences brushing close to death and medical upheavals. Although previously in therapy, I firmly believe regular mental health checkups, akin to car maintenance, are crucial. Therapy helped steer me towards a balanced life encompassing family, work, relaxation, and leisure. This harsh episode reminded me that life is fleeting.

Resuming Professional Duties

During my hiatus, our office location changed. Returning, I felt disoriented, missing simple logistics like an entry badge.

Fear loomed large; I doubted my ability to match my previous performance intensity and worried if I'd hinder those who had adapted in my absence. Being the highest-paid individual on the payroll made me wonder if I was a justified expense.

This anxiety, though manageable, was real. Eventually, I realized my trepidation stemmed from the team's competence—something I was privilege to set in motion.

The protocols and personnel we put in place responded valiantly during the trade show's chaos and maintained their stride through the ensuing six months.

Acknowledging their success independently was pivotal, while concurrently valuing my own remaining contributions presented a challenging dichotomy that was essential to reconcile.

Attending my first board meeting after return felt off. Customarily, the CEO spearheads conversation regarding finances and planning strategies, but with six months lost, my input felt disconnected. Our COO, serving as interim CEO, accompanied me.

The board, along with the COO, faced their own set of strains. Despite this, we maintained communication, allowing me to partake in some decision-making. My message to her was one of support, emphasizing accountability for whatever choices were made.

Post-return, members frequently praised my team's performance during my absence. This feedback was immensely satisfying; it affirmed my role as a guiding force, akin to a coach rather than a participant. To lead effectively means empowering others to operate autonomously.