*Enjoying lunch together at Hopkins Icehouse in 2020 are Velvet, her daughter, Alyssa, and granddaughter, Olivia.*

Cardiovascular disease steals a life every 37 seconds in the United States. That is over 2,300 losses per day. Every 40 seconds, someone in the United States suffers a stroke. The rate of death in stroke victims is every four minutes or 400 deaths per day. These statistics from the American Heart Association are especially gruesome in the current climate as pandemic deaths continue to reach all-time highs. It would be easy to despair, which is why it is so important to celebrate the wins. Statistics focus on the deaths, but it’s much more encouraging to focus on the survivors.

Velvet Hall, 52, has lived in Texarkana her entire life. A 1987 Arkansas High graduate, Velvet works for a family-owned land surveying company; she has three children and nine grandchildren. Velvet volunteers for the Literacy Council, a local nonprofit organization which focuses on teaching reading, math, and other basic literacy skills to those in the community who may be seeking their GED, learning English as a second language, or just need a boost with their skill sets.

Because of her work with the Council, a friend, Helen Mobley, suggested that Velvet join the board of directors for the Texarkana Museums System, which is comprised of four museums: Ace of Clubs House, Museum of Regional History, Discovery Place Children’s Museum, and P.J. Ahern House.

*Velvet and her daughter, Ariel, at their home in 1991.*

As president of the board, Velvet oversees the entire museum system, but the Museum of Regional History is her favorite. “I am not what one would call a traditional historian. I enjoy the individual stories that speak to my heart,” she says.

Last fall, Velvet served as a judge for a monthly calendar contest. The Ace of Clubs hosted the photo shoots, and the calendar promoted healthy living for individuals over the age of 60. For some, this would have been an omen. But Velvet was living her life, working her job, and serving her community. Velvet could be any one of us, which is what makes her story extraordinary.

*In 1994, Velvet snuggles with her son, Hastings Hoover.*

On October 7, 2021, Velvet went to dinner with friends. It had been one month since her best friend unexpectedly passed away. She and her friends laughed and shared memories of their dear friend. Around 9:30 p.m., Velvet started feeling bad. She thought she had a case of heartburn and went home. By three o’clock that morning, the pain hadn’t subsided. She called her son and told him she needed to go to the emergency room. “I kept having flashbacks to my aunt, Bobby Haywood, always telling me how a heart attack in a woman might mean your shoulders hurt, and you feel like you have to burp or vomit ... all things I was feeling,” Velvet explains.

At the Wadley Regional Medial Center emergency room, Velvet was given nitroglycerin while the medical team ran tests. It took three rounds of nitro to stop the chest pain. They kept Velvet overnight and the next morning, a doctor confirmed that Velvet had experienced a heart attack. They also wanted to discuss her diabetes, which was a revelation. Until that moment, Velvet was not aware that she was diabetic.

*Velvet and friends, Steve Moore and John Rich, doing some porch sitting in 2019.*

Fortunately, Velvet’s condition did not require bypass surgery. They were able to go in through her wrist and put in a stent. The worst part of the ordeal was the post-traumatic stress. Physically, she was tired. Emotionally, she dealt with sleep anxiety and was afraid to drive for several weeks. “I was worried I’d have another heart attack and die in my sleep. I would worry that I’d have a heart attack while driving. My symptoms were so slight, and I worried I wouldn’t know if it happened again or that I’d again wait and wait and wait to go to the hospital, and it might be too late,” Velvet explains.

*Velvet (right) with her mother, Pat, friend, Eric, and cousin, Stacey in 1978 at her grandmother’s house in the Rose Hill Community.*

Velvet attributes her cardiac episode to stress. Upon evaluation, her number was over 700. The human body typically shows signs of stress at around 300. Last summer, Velvet spent a week at CHRISTUS St. Michael Health System suffering from COVID. She very nearly went on a ventilator. Her doctor explained that medical professionals are seeing lots of heart problems and diabetes in former COVID patients. Although Velvet was more susceptible due to higher risk factors, she was also under a great deal of emotional stress grieving the loss of her friend.

Now that it has been a few months, Velvet can honestly say that she feels better since her heart attack than she did in the months prior. Her outlook has become more spiritual. She believes she had a guardian angel looking out for her.

The experience was traumatic for Velvet and her family. Her children have closed ranks. They bring food, help around the house, and call more often. “I think my dad actually worries the deepest though. As a parent, I know I would,” she says.

Velvet encourages everyone to learn the signs of a heart attack. It’s never too late to make even small changes that might help prevent an experience like hers. She recommends finding a good doctor and following their advice which includes being compliant with medications and scheduling regular checkups.

Velvet was living her life and minding her business when heart disease struck. She could have been a statistic as so many are, but she wasn’t. She recognized the symptoms and sought treatment. The only way to change the depressing statistics is to educate ourselves and make healthy decisions. We change the status quo by surviving. Velvet lived to tell her story. Velvet is victorious.

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Never Too Late To Make Small Changes