Sudden Cardiac Arrest Journey to Awareness

Being a Sudden Cardiac Arrest survivor is like being part of a weird club. A club no one would ever choose to join, but once you’re in, it changes everything about how you see the world. There’s an unspoken bond, a deep connection that most people don’t understand. It’s built on shared experience, a heightened awareness, and the knowledge that life can change in an instant.

The world shifts.

Colours seem brighter.

The sky is bluer.

The air is crisper.

You start noticing the things you used to overlook: the warmth of a hug, the way sunlight dances on the leaves, and the sound of laughter.

The ordinary becomes extraordinary because, deep down, you know how quickly it can all disappear.

The Moment Everything Changed

For me, that moment came on an overcast day in May 2021, in the middle of the pandemic.

The day started like any other: errands, lunch, and an online event for a client.

Then, an overwhelming fatigue hit me.

Even a nap didn’t help, so I decided to take a walk.

The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed, surrounded by machines and doctors. I was confused, convinced they had the wrong person.

Someone said, “If you weren’t lucky, you’d be dead.” Maybe it happened. Maybe it was a dream.

Memory loss makes it hard to tell.

Hospital Stay and Recovery

I spent 5.5 weeks in the hospital, isolated due to strict pandemic protocols. No visitors. Just tests, scans, and a blur of medical jargon.

I had survived, but now I had to figure out what survival actually meant.

I had surgery to implant an ICD (Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator), a device meant to save my life if this ever happened again. A constant reminder that my body had failed me once and could do it again.

Emotional and Mental Toll

The physical recovery was one thing, but the emotional and mental toll was another level entirely.

There is no class you can take on how to rebuild your life after it’s turned on its head in an instant.

I threw myself into rebuilding.

Learning to trust my body again was slow, frustrating, and filled with uncertainty.

I saw first-hand how different recovery could be depending on access to resources. I was lucky to have support, but I knew others weren’t as fortunate. That had to change.

Finding Support and Community

Being an SCA survivor is lonely. No one truly gets it.

And then, I found the club.

First, through a Facebook group where people just got it without me having to explain.

Then, at the SCA Conference, where I met survivors in person, each carrying their own extraordinary story of survival.

Some were saved by strangers, some by family, some by sheer luck.

Every story was different, but the common thread was undeniable, resilience, courage, and an unshakable awareness of life’s fragility.

The Gift of a Second Chance

For every challenge, every mountain to climb, there was also a gift.

Yes, there was fear.

There were sleepless nights, waves of exhaustion, and the ever-present

“what if it happens again?”

But there was also an unshakable appreciation for life.

In the early days, I didn’t believe things would ever get better.

My heart fluttered, and I spiralled into fear.

Every skipped beat felt like a warning sign.

The simplest tasks – walking to the kitchen, climbing the stairs, left me breathless.

My body felt foreign, unrecognizable. I wanted to bounce back, but the process was painstakingly slow.

The mental weight was just as heavy. I struggled with the fear of being alone, the trauma of it all lingering in ways I hadn’t expected.

Recovery wasn’t linear. Some days, I felt strong. Others, a wave of exhaustion knocked me back down. I had to learn patience, something I was never good at.

But little by little, things did get better.

One day, I realized I had gone a whole afternoon without thinking about my heart.

A few months later, I walked further than I had since the incident without feeling like collapsing. The fear of my ICD activating began to fade into the background. I started to trust my body again, not fully, but enough.

Instead of obsessing over what if it happens again?, I started asking, what do I want to do with this second chance?

Because that’s what it was—a second chance. And I wasn’t going to waste it.

Embracing Life Fully

At first, finding the gift in all of this felt impossible.

But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, I began to notice the shift.

I became more present. The small, everyday moments I used to rush past now held a different kind of magic: a warm cup of coffee, the feel of the sun on my skin, the sound of laughter. I wasn’t just going through life; I was in it, fully, completely.

I learned to slow down. Before, I had always been moving, pushing, striving. But recovery forced me to pause, listen to my body, and give myself grace.

It taught me that rest wasn’t weakness, that slowing down didn’t mean stopping. It meant honouring the life I had been given.

I found connection. Meeting other survivors showed me the sheer resilience of the human spirit. We all carried different stories, but we understood each other in a way no one else could. And in that, there was comfort.

Most of all, I found clarity. Surviving something like this forces you to reevaluate everything: what matters, what doesn’t, and where you want to put your energy. I didn’t want to live a life filled with hesitation or regret.

I wanted to make it count.

Since then, I’ve travelled extensively ticking off bucket list items – the Northern Lights was a big highlight, 2 cruises and 12 countries visited.

Yes, there are challenges.

There still are.

But there is also gratitude, perspective, and an unshakable knowing that if I was given this second chance, I wouldn’t waste it.

Final Thoughts

And that’s the thing about being part of this weird, unchosen club.

No one ever wants to join, but once you’re in, you see the world differently. You feel life differently.

You carry the weight of knowing how quickly everything can change but also a deeper appreciation for what it means to still be here.

You find yourself surrounded by people who understand in a way most never will. People who have faced the same fears, climbed the same mountains, and come out the other side forever changed.

It’s not always easy. Some days, fear creeps in. But then there are the moments of joy, connection, and absolute clarity about what truly matters.

Being part of this club means knowing that life is both fragile and extraordinary and that every single day is a gift.

And that, no matter what, we are not alone in this.

Tasmin Sabar

Tasmin Sabar is a survivor of Sudden Cardiac Arrest (SCA), an event she experienced in May 2021. Since her recovery, she has become a passionate advocate for SCA awareness, sharing her personal journey to emphasize the profound impact such an experience can have on one’s perspective.  Professionally, Tasmin is a mindset and business coach dedicated to empowering ambitious coaches and online service providers. She helps them develop a success-oriented mindset and implement aligned action plans that allow them to confidently attract consistent clients. Through her work, she enables her clients to make a meaningful impact and generate income outside of the traditional 9-to-5 structure.

www.tasminsabar.com/