Why Support Matters
I’ve always known how to look after people. What I didn’t know how to do was let someone look after me.
I’ve always known how to look after people. What I didn’t know how to do was let someone look after me.
Something changed after my heart attack that made it easier to talk about the hard stuff — and I don’t think it was courage.
A year ago I sat with my finger hovering over a button. Terrified, excited, no idea where it would lead. This is what happened between that moment and now — the fear, the growth, and the year that changed everything.
If I could sit down with the man running those hotels before any of this happened, I know exactly what I’d tell him. Not slow down. Not stop dreaming. Master the art of delegation.
I’ve always known it’s better to respond than react — behind a bar, in a busy kitchen. But it took a heart attack to teach me to turn that same skill inward, on myself.
Before my heart attack, strength was physical — kegs, timber, chainsaws, never a second thought. After it, I thought that strength was gone for good. What I found instead was something completely different — and worth so much more.
When I walked back through my front door after my heart attack, I found the cushions on the floor, the bucket, my towel — and looked across at my family photos thinking I’d seen them for the last time. This is about the question nobody prepares you for after surviving a cardiac event. Who am I now?
When you’ve been honest about your own struggles, people start opening up to you. But there’s a line — and I crossed it before I saw it coming. This is about helping others without running yourself into the ground.
There’s a part of recovery nobody prepares you for. Not the physical side — the quiet grief that comes with saying goodbye to the life you had before. There’s even a name for it: ambiguous loss. This is about mourning the old life, and finding room for the new one.
Most men who’ve been through a heart attack know what they should be doing. But knowing something and actually doing it — when life, finances, and responsibility are pulling in the opposite direction — is a completely different thing. This week that gap caught me out.