Harper - The Super Carb Diet

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I am dedicating this book to Cristi Conaway, Kate Angelo, Nicole Trinler, Anthony Gutierrez, Kelsey Johnson, and Debbie Johnson. They were the angels that were there for me during the hardest time of my life. When I awoke from the heart attack that left me unconscious for two days, they were right by my bedside. I will be forever grateful to them for showing me unconditional love when I needed it most. My heart may have been broken, but they made sure it was full.

February 12, 2017, is a day I dont remember, at all, and a day I wont ever forget. I died that day, a Sunday, in a gym in my Chelsea, New York, neighborhood. Sounds dramatic, but its very much a true story.

The last thing I remember is having an early dinner with my friend Sean and his boyfriend that Saturday night. We had an early meal because we were planning to meet the next morning at Brick New York, a CrossFit gym where we work out regularly. I left them after dinner, walked home, took my dog, Karl, for a short walk, and then went to bed. What follows is the story of what happened the next day, as told to me by Sean and the other people who were there.

Sunday morning, I walked to the gym with my dog and met up with Sean for our workout. Sean told me that I was complaining about being dizzy as soon as I arrived. A little backstory: About six weeks prior to this day I was in Los Angeles and I fainted in the middle of a workout. I had never experienced anything like that in all my years of working out. I felt incredibly dizzy, and the next thing I knew I was being awakened by a couple of friends in the group class. I figured I had worked out too hard that day, or maybe it was because I didnt have anything to eat prior to the class. Whatever the case, I didnt take it too seriously. In the weeks leading up to my heart attack, I was experiencing similar dizzy spells, although I didnt faint. At the gym, I would reprogram workouts, adjusting the movements that would make me feel off. I would change to lighter weights to adapt as needed. Basically, I was just doing these things to try to avoid the dizzy spells instead of figuring out the root cause of my problem. I was breaking a cardinal rule I have been preaching for my whole career. I was NOT listening to my body. The dizzy spells were becoming more consistent and a growing concern of mine, so I went to a doctor, who suggested I get some further tests done. I put these tests off. Some friends suggested I try taking Dramamine. Unfortunately, that didnt help.

Okay, so now lets get back to that Sunday morning. Sean told me I was already complaining about being dizzy. We started the workout. It was brutal, but no more so than usual. Sean finished before me and took a seat on the floor afterward to recover from the grueling exercise. He said that he looked over at me and I stopped in the middle of the workout, which is odd because it is very unlike me to stop entirely. Then he saw me get down on the floor and lie on my side. He asked me if I was feeling dizzy, and I nodded my head to say yes. Then I rolled on my back. Sean was smart enough to know that something wasnt right. He came over to me and saw that I was completely unresponsive. He rushed to turn the music off, immediately told our coach, Sherry, that I had passed out, and then got someone to call 911. Sherry ran upstairs where the AED (Automated External Defibrillator) was located. An event was going on upstairs, so she asked if there was a doctor in the houseliterallyand guess what? There was. A man named Hazem Shoirah, who wasnt even a member of the gym. Dr. Shoirah ran downstairs and saw me on the floor where someone was performing CPR on me. He stepped in and took over CPR as Sherry got the AED attached to me. The AED initially did not perform because I was in what is called asystole, which basically means I flatlined. Dr. Shoirah told me two months later that this was the point at which he got concerned. My heart had stopped and my lips turned blue, but he didnt stop performing CPR. On the second attempt the AED delivered a shock, but I was still in cardiac arrest. The paramedics showed up at this point, very quickly from what I was told, and they took over. They pulled out their heavy-duty defibrillators and gave me a shock that was so intense, Sherry, the fitness coach, said that my whole body levitated off the floor. Off the floor! This still gives me chills. This was all happening to ME! How in the world was this fucking happening to ME?!

The paramedics got my heart going, but I was still unconscious. They got me in the ambulance as fast as they could and rushed me to the emergency room at Mount Sinai Beth Israel. My assistant, Nicole, arrived about ten minutes after I did. She was sent into the room to talk to the team that was working on me. The doctors moved me to the cath lab where they put the first of two stents into my heart (the second one followed in the days after I woke up from the coma). This procedure took about an hour and a half. After they were finished, they moved me to the cardiac intensive care unit. There they started the process of therapeutic hypothermia, a process where they literally put me on ice and in an induced coma to protect me from any brain damage that I might have experienced from the time (which is unclear to me, but estimated around seven to twelve minutes) that my brain was without oxygen. The entire time I was in the hospital, Nicole became the voice I didnt have. She contacted my sister and niece, and my closest friends from Los Angeles to tell them what had happened. Everyone was on the next plane to New York City.

For two whole days I was in a coma induced by my doctors. When I woke up, I was surrounded by my closest friends and family, but let me tell you, I was SUPER confused. Imagine losing two whole days of your life! They told me what had happened and I proceeded to get very emotional, but the crazy part is that I was experiencing short-term memory loss. About every ten minutes I would look around and get confused all over again. I would ask the same things over and overwhat happened, why am I here, and why are you all here? I felt like Dory from Finding Nemo.

For eight days and seven nights, the hospital was my home. Eight very long days. I have never wanted to leave a place so badly in my entire life. I wanted to go home to my bed in my cozy New York City apartment. The nurses took such great care of me at the hospital. Im so thankful for them and everyone who helped me through my stay at Mount Sinai Beth Israel. They even turned a blind eye when my friends brought my dog, Karl, to the hospital to be with me. I tear up right now just thinking about how he visited me when I needed him most. My friends, Cristi, Kate, Anthony, Nicole, Debbie, and Kelsey also came through, never leaving me alone while I was there. I am forever grateful for that. Despite the love, I was ready to get back to my real home.

When I finally did get to leave the hospital, all I could do was rest. The first time I left the house, I thought I would be able to go for a walk around the block to get some fresh air. I made it halfway before I had to turn back and get home. Me, the fitness guy who works out every day, could not walk around the block without getting winded or dizzy. It was a humbling experience, to say the least. Humbling and tough. Speaking of tough, did I mention that I developed pneumonia during my hospital stay? I was in constant pain. The pneumonia had me coughing and my chest was still so tender from the CPR that was performed on me. The chest pain was tough, but I thank God that I was around to experience that pain.