O Happy Day

Ok.  I had a massive heart attack. My heart went into ventricular fibrillation. (Think of a fish on the dock twitching and finally still). The medical team was able to get my heart working again. But some critical heart muscle was damaged on the lower front ventricle. Barbara kept a prayer journal, and a personal diary of the first few weeks. It was a wonderful gift to me because I wasn’t aware of who was there, or who was doing what. Once I regained awareness, the journal ended. It describes the many people coming and going, the generous acts of friendship, doctors giving grim reports and trying new things.

During those first two weeks, no one knew if I would live or die. Barbara literally collapsed the day the Doctor announced a heart transplant was the only hope. After Christmas, we would wonder how well I would live. I insisted on coming home for Christmas, so they dismissed me Dec. 23. I couldn't even walk.  I was back the next day.

At home, Gary, Micah, Parker and Tim had to literally carry me to bed. Micah and Gary went out and bought me a bed for downstairs, but I never used it because Christmas Day Tim, Gary and Parker orchestrated a midnight ambulance run back to Piedmont hospital in Tim’s van. I was almost a goner. No oxygen, no blood pressure. So I stayed that night in the ER and a couple more weeks on the third floor
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I remember the day the doctor told me it would be 2 years before my lungs would heal enough for me to resume normal activities. And my heart ejection fraction was only at 20% on a good day. Today my lungs are perfect. I know my heart is damaged, but with good medicine and common sense, I believe it can fully heal.  I work out over an hour every day. I walk farther now than I ever did before.

Heaven, Part 2 is coming. But stay with me on earth for a while longer. I want to tell you about my family and friends.

Just as miraculous and wondrous to me is the story not of what God did, but what people did. Micah (who would later have quadruple bypass surgery in January 2013), Tim and Sue, Mary and Gary came immediately from Kentucky. They didn’t know if they were coming to a funeral or for a hospital visit. Gary, being a Doctor, was able to ask the right questions and interpret the answers for everyone. Having an M.D. for a son in law is a great thing. I highly recommend it.

Barbara called her sister, Nancy, who was in Washington D.C. with her husband, Terry McGuirk. Terry picked up the ringing phone sometime before dawn and Nancy was on the next plane to Atlanta. Barbara stayed at her home the next two weeks near the hospital and the two were together throughout the whole ordeal.

The cards, letters, notes, etc. literally filled a grocery bag. Our friends from the American Legion, Milton High School, the University of Alabama, Church, work and everywhere else just kept coming. Of course I didn’t know it. But I later read about it.

The attack came December 3, 2009. The pictures of me in the hospital on this blog are from that period Dec. 3- Dec. 14. (Photographer was my brother, Tim) And then something must have happened.

From Barbara’s journal: Tuesday, Dec. 15 “Nancy and I walked in this morning and could not believe our eyes. You had the tube out of your throat and I was so happy to see you. Happiest Day of my life!”