My daughter and I were heading out for her 40th birthday treat when she fell ill. What happened next will haunt me forever. By Athina Schwentke, 61
Taking a deep breath, I blew into the last balloon and tied the end into a knot.
‘Lynn will be so shocked,’ I giggled, as I stood back and admired my handiwork.
I’d neatly laid out my daughter’s birthday presents on the table, stuck up banners and prepared some buffet food.
To celebrate her 40th birthday, Lynn thought we were having a small family get-together.
But because it was a milestone, I’d decided to host a surprise party at my house in Chatham, Kent, and invite all our friends too.
Lynn’s partner Steve and son Liam, 20, were in on my plan. Once all the guests had arrived, I gave them the nod to bring her over.
Hearing them knock at the door, I told everyone: ‘They’re here!’
Quietly, everyone gathered in the hallway, waiting to see the shock on Lynn’s face.
When I opened the door, everyone yelled: ‘Surprise!’
‘Oh my God, you’re all crazy nuts,’ Lynn gasped, then burst out laughing.
We had a blast partying until late, dancing and playing games.
A few days later, I went with Lynn and her brother Kevin, 37, to watch a live wrestling match.
The tickets were a birthday present from Liam, who knew she was a big WWE fan.
Afterwards her favourite wrestler walked past the crowd and when he got to Lynn, he shook her hand.
‘Oh, wow!’ she said, awestruck.
Liam had also got her tickets to a book signing with her favourite actor Sam Heughan and she asked me to go with her.
‘I can’t wait to see him in the flesh,’ she said, excitedly.
‘I know you can’t,’ I replied, knowing she had a huge crush on him.
Lynn and I lived on the same street, so when the day of the signing came around a week later, she popped over at 2pm as planned.
We were about to head to the train station, but she looked pained.
‘Mum, my chest hurts. I think I’m having a heart attack,’ she said, clutching at her chest.
‘Quick, come and sit on the sofa,’ I replied.
I was medically trained, so I got my stethoscope and checked her pulse.
‘Your heartbeat is normal,’ I told her. ‘It could be a trapped nerve.’
‘I did fall asleep on the sofa last night, so I could’ve slept funny,’ she said.
‘Do you still want to go to the signing?’ I asked.
‘Yes, definitely! I don’t want to miss it,’ she replied.
Kevin had offered to drive us to the station, so I called him and he came to get us.
'It could be a trapped nerve'
But in the car, Lynn didn’t look right.
‘I’m going to be sick,’ she said.
I quickly reached into my handbag for a carrier bag.
‘Here,’ I said.
She vomited into it straightaway.
I thought: She can’t get on the train in this state.
‘Kevin, take us to Jamie’s house,’ I said.
My daughter Jamie, 26, lived nearby and I knew her husband would be at home.
When we got there, Lynn ran up the stairs and we could hear her violent retches as she vomited into the toilet.
When she came back down, she said: ‘Mum, it hurts.’
‘Do you want to go to hospital?’ I asked worriedly.
‘No,’ she replied.
I was trying not to panic, but it wasn’t like her to be so ill.
Aside from using an inhaler for asthma, Lynn was a healthy person.
I gently massaged her neck and chest to try to ease her pain.
‘That’s better,’ she sighed.
I was relieved and went to get Kevin to carry on our journey, but when I glanced back, I saw Lynn half slumped off the sofa, having a fit.
‘Come quick!’ I called out.
When Jamie’s husband and Kevin ran in, they quickly dialled 999.
We got Lynn on to the floor and I began CPR.
‘One, two, three…’ I counted with each pump.
But it wasn’t working.
‘Come back! We need you,’ I cried.
Too distraught to continue, Kevin took over.
But a few minutes later, paramedics burst through the door.
‘Give us some space,’ they said as they continued CPR.
Suddenly I saw Lynn take a deep breath and I thought: She’s alive.
So I held on to hope as we waited in the next room.
I frantically called Steve and told him: ‘Something’s happened to Lynn, you need to get here now.’
When he arrived, he was understandably panicked, but all we could do was wait for news.
The minutes that ticked by felt like hours.
'We're taking her to hospital'
Each time we heard the shock of the defibrillator being used, it was gut-wrenching.
Every 15 minutes, a paramedic told us: ‘She’s still not responding but we’ll keep trying.’
Soon another medical team arrived and there were eight people surrounding my girl.
Please pull through, I prayed.
She was my best friend and I couldn’t comprehend losing her.
After the longest 90 minutes of my life, a paramedic said: ‘We’re taking her to hospital.’
Steve and I wanted to follow the ambulance, but we were too upset to drive, so we called a friend.
When we got to hospital, we paced around nervously waiting for an update.
But 20 minutes later, a doctor gave us the news we’d been dreading.
‘I’m so sorry, she’s passed away,’ he said.
‘No, no, it can’t be. Put the machines back on,’ I cried.
‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated.
I broke down sobbing.
Lynn had been pronounced dead on arrival and it hit me that the breath I’d seen her take was actually her last.
When more of my family arrived, we were taken to see her.
But I wasn’t ready to say goodbye and I held my fingers over her inner wrist, desperately hoping to feel her pulse.
‘Mum, there’s no pulse,’ said Jamie.
I felt like the grief was physically crushing me.
I couldn’t understand how Lynn was fine one minute and gone the next.
Two days later, the coroner’s report revealed she’d died from a heart attack.
Three blood clots were found in her heart and her lungs were filled with water. But even the coroner didn’t understand the cause.
Because Lynn was slightly overweight, it may have been linked, but not having clear answers made it even harder to cope with.
A month later, we held a beautiful funeral service and Jamie read a eulogy on behalf of us all.
As well as Liam, her children Joey, nine, and Ronan, three, were there too.
As the curtain was drawn around the coffin at the end of the service, I broke down.
‘Why are you sad, Nanny?’ asked Ronan.
‘Because Mummy isn’t here any more,’ I replied.
‘But she’s an angel now,’ he said.
My heart broke for Steve too, because he’d been with Lynn for 10 years, and now he had to cope with being a single parent.
It’s been four months now, and we’re planning to scatter her ashes in the sea, because she told me once that’s what she wanted.
I feel so guilty for not making her go to the hospital immediately, but the doctor told me even if I had she wouldn’t have made it.
Lynn was the rock of our family and I miss her every day.
She always went out of her way to help others, even when she didn’t have much herself.
I wish she’d been able to make it to the book signing, because she was so looking forward to it.
She still had so much life ahead of her.
I hope that reading this will encourage other women to get their heart checked.
If her story saves even just one person, that will be her legacy.