I have just gotten through what will probably be one of the
worst weeks of my life. I have come out the other side a very humble guy. God
surly has greater plans for me and right now I am all ears.
I have a horrible family medical history. My father had a
major heart attack when he was only thirty-eight. He had quadruple bypass open
heart surgery at forty-two. His heart attack jump started rheumatoid arthritis
and by the time he had the open heart surgery he was fully disabled. I was only
fifteen and very lucky to still have a father.
The rheumatoid arthritis created a laundry list of other
health issues, destroying his body slowly and very painfully. By the time he
died he had survived six additional angioplasties, three hip replacements,
cornea replacements, spinal stenosis and had beaten hepatitis C. He not only
endured suffering but taught us how to bear suffering with grace. There was
never a doctor, nurse, care giver or fellow sufferer that he did not leave with
a smile, a laugh or a pleasant memory.
I lost my father when he was sixty-six. He lost his father
to a heart attack when he was sixty-seven. He lost a brother to a stroke and a
heart attack when he was sixty-two and a nephew to a heart attack at fifty-six.
Like I said, I have a horrible family medical history and this is only the tip
of the iceberg. My father constantly warned me to change my ways or I would
walk his path. Of course, in my youth, I was superman and nothing could hurt
me.
In 2008 I turned thirty-eight and began to notice the symptoms
of a clogged ticker. Because of my father my doctor sent me straight in for an
angiogram. They found one block that was 50% - 60% closed. They can’t touch a
block until it hits 70% so I was sent home with instructions to change my
lifestyle. This was also the same year my father died and I got married. I was
already dealing with too much emotionally so I didn’t pay the doctor much mind.
Over the last two years I have had an increase in symptoms
that are clogged heart related. We were really struggling financially and
couldn’t pay additional medical bills so I fell back to VA medical coverage. I
complained to them about the symptoms expecting that they would get me in for
testing and corrective measures. Year one went by and no response from the VA.
I complained louder during my physical the next year and they did another
write-up. Six or seven months went by and no word from them. I have been
traveling more than usual the past year and the symptoms have really begun to
show more and more. I was constantly worried about having a heart attack while
on the road so I decided I could not wait any longer for the VA to respond.
I went back to my regular doctors and they immediately sent
me for an angiogram. I fully expected that the one block would now be 70%+ and
that they would be able to balloon me back into health. Ten minutes into it the
cardiologist stopped the surgery and told me I was going to need open heart
bypass. The one block that we knew of was now at 75% - as it was expected. What
came out of nowhere was that the other two arterial branches were at 90% and
95% blocked. My heart was a time bomb with little time left on the clock. I was
devastated.
To look at this from the positive side of the coin we had
caught this before any damage was done. I didn’t find out about it by waking up
in a hospital in Newark, New Jersey or by collapsing on a plane while flying
over Colorado. Given the location and seriousness of the blocks there was a
great possibility of not waking up at all. I am also young making recovery an
easier proposition. Because it was not an emergency the surgery was scheduled
three weeks out.
“He's a young pilot, a lot younger than Mr. Hooper, anyway
he saw us and come in low. And three hours later a big fat PBY comes down and
start to pick us up. You know that was the time I was most frightened? Waitin'
for my turn. I'll never put on a lifejacket again.”
Rule #1 of blogging – never miss
the opportunity to use a good Jaws quote. But that quote illustrated exactly
how I felt. I was ok with the surgery, although still a bit shocked by it. But
from the time I got the diagnosis to the time everything went dark in the OR I
was in fear that this would go from a scheduled surgery to an emergency
surgery. Every little pain, ache or tickle in my chest was amplified.
My wife was amazed at how calm I
was in the time leading up to the surgery. She was not taking the situation
nearly as well. It is times like these when your true faith presents itself. It
is that faith that is then tested. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us
from evil. Do you truly trust God no matter what the outcome?
I would receive the Sacrament of
Anointing before going in for surgery. My sins are forgiven and I am made ready
for the journey if that is God’s will. If I died on the table I would go
straight to Heaven, no purgatory. I asked my wife to look at things through my
eyes for just a moment. What is the worst possible outcome that could happen?
She answered, “You could die.” to which I responded, “No, I could come through
this just fine and live another thirty years.” If that was the worst that could
happen to me how could I be worried? Trust in God. It works.
On November 12th at
7:00AM I was wheeled into the OR. My wife and I exchanged kisses and “I love
yous.” I looked her in the eyes and said, “Have faith,” just as everything went
black. Truth be told, my greatest fear was waking up after the surgery with the
breathing tube in. I have a bad gag reflex and I couldn’t imagine having a tube
down my throat. As the anesthesia wore off and I began to come to I did my best
to relax and let the machine breath for me. I gagged many times before they
could remove the tubes from my throat. I had made it through to the other side
of surgery. Sorry to say that I do not have any stories of the tunnel of light,
walking with angels or being sent back by Jesus. As interesting as those
experiences sound I for one am really happy not to have had them.
When it was all said and done I
had a quintuple (5) bypass. I out did my father by one. Who says I am an
underachiever? As I write this blog I sit here bruised and battered but happy
to be alive. I am also very overwhelmed and humbled. When I had the first
angiogram in 2008 I could count the number of people who were actually praying
for me on just my fingers. Since that time I have let God back into my life and
he has begun to slowly transform me as a person. I have spent most of my life
feeling pretty much alone. I kept people at two cubits distance (arm’s length
reference – See Genesis 6:15). Today I am anything but alone.
The people who were praying for
me during this ordeal numbers in the thousands. I have the entire Catholic
faith community in general and a dozen or more parishes in particular. I am in
the thoughts and prayers of many different protestant denominational and nondenominational
churches as well as a few people in non-Christian religions. People are praying
for me not only in many different states across this country but in a few other
countries as well. The priest who married my wife and I heard about it through
Facebook and drove over an hour and a half to sit with her in the waiting room
during the surgery. My parish priest was
there shortly after surgery to anoint me again and give me deep comfort in my
suffering. My ministry formation group held prayer services and sent me cards
of sentiment. One even passed on a medal of Saint John of God, the patron saint
of those suffering with heart disease. That medal never left my side during
recovery in the days that followed in the hospital. Family, friends, neighbors and at least one
stranger have been by our side every step of the way. I am anything but alone.
This has all been extremely
overwhelming and humbling to me. The outpouring of love I have received has
been staggering. I wish I could thank you all here by name but that would be
impossible. Know that your prayers have been heard and answered and that God
still has a use for me. I look forward to being able to serve and return your
love for decades to come.
There is one person I need to
thank by name. That is my wife – Nicole. She was by my side every moment of
this journey tolerating me while I was less than hospitable. She put up with
the bear who emerged after surgery who could find nothing right in anything she
did. She continued to care for me with nothing but love and compassion through
it all. She said it was all in the vow she took but the vow is all but useless
if it is not backed by the right word – agape. She is that to me.
Thank you all for the prayers,
support, casserole, cards, beef stew, lunch, hugs and every other offering I
have received in the past weeks. Your outpouring helps heal a broken soul and
body.
