Wow! Long day! Never dreamed this would be a surgery that would take over six hours. So thankful the kids were here to wait with me. Now, their home safe and I'm weary to the bone. I'm heading out to my sister's house to sleep here in a minute but I don't want to leave till Mark is awake enough to tell him goodbye. We humans are never satisfied are we? For months now, I've been saying I'll just be glad when it's over, now I'm saying I'll be glad when he's all healed! Once we got the word that all was well, the kids and I started walking down memory lane. We spent the six hours waiting in the same waiting room where I spent some of the most agonizing hours of my life twelve years ago.
On that fateful day, at our local hospital the word heart attack was never mentioned, all the doctor would say to me was his heart was definitely "irritable". I'm sure that was his way of keeping me calm. So on the airplane ride to the city hospital, I thought we would find out he had some sort of spell and be home the next day. I mean after all, we were both just a couple years removed from our thirty's! When the ambulance deposited us both at the emergency room entrance, I was met by the most arrogant, non-compassionate, human being I have ever met. He may have had the reputation of being the city's top cardiologist, but his bed side manner had to be the worst known to mankind! He gruffly asked if I was the wife and when I said yes, he flippantly said they were going to take him back and see if there was anything they could do, but he doubted if there was, it was too late. Suddenly feeling faint, I cried out, "you know that already without even seeing him!?!" and he said "Yes, he could tell by the EKG they sent that the damage was already done and there was nothing they would be able to do." I stopped cold and watched them wheel my life down the hall. Since I had come on the plane with Mark, I had no family or friends there with me yet. I felt someone take hold of my elbow and lead me to the waiting room. Within an hour my children ranging in age from twenty four to eleven arrived. I remember looking up and seeing their expectant faces wanting me to tell them all was well and thinking I need an adult here with me. I couldn't believe I was the adult! Finally a nurse came out to tell us that the doctor wanted us to know that it wasn't quite as bad as he thought it was going to be. About that time close friends and our minister arrived. Together they helped us get through the next few hours. The doctor from hell (sorry, I don't have good memories of the dude) came out and said Mark was lucky to be alive, the LAD artery (aka the widow maker) was 99% blocked and therefore damage had occurred, but he had been able to put a stent in and he should recover. I asked if this meant he would have a shortened lifespan. He looked down on me like I was some sort of moron and sarcastically said, "Well yes! You don't develop hardened arteries and have a heart attack at his age and expect to live to be an old man!" I decided right there and then I was done asking this man anything. After he left, oldest daughter Kristi came and knelt down in front of me, took my hands in hers and said "Mom, that doctor doesn't know anything. If God wants Dad to live to be one hundred, he will live to be one hundred." I said "Oh, Kristi, I'm not wanting one hundred, I'm just hoping for sixty five!" (At the age of forty two, that seemed like a long long ways off, but now it doesn't seem like nearly long enough - I want more!)
Over the next few days, I remember being with Mark in his room and my girls in this waiting room. The boys, aged eleven and twelve stayed with friends but the girls stayed with me. They slept in the waiting room on the floor with blankets and pillows. I remember as long as they were with me I was I was good, but when I was alone it all came crashing in. But I also remember laughing hysterically with them. One event that brought this on was when Kristi and Jamie walked to a quick trip from the hospital one night, which wasn't the brightest decision they could have ever made because it is not the best neighborhood. In fact we found out later that they have security guards to walk people to the parking garage. But alas, at twenty four and fifteen, they thought they could take on the world. As they neared the store they saw someone who looked like a shady character to them so Kristi told her little sister, "Jamie if that guy comes after us, don't worry I've been doing Tia Bo, just do what I do." Jamie said, "But I won't have a clue what I'm doing!" so Kristi comforted her by saying "Well just hit him with your best cheerleading kick!" I am very happy to report that the guy did not pursue them because with self defense like that, I don't think the outcome would have been a good one!
One thing I distinctly remember was the strong feeling of God's presence beside me every step of the way. I remember hearing him tell me that this may feel like I was walking through hell, but it actually was a blessing. I held on to that thought, thinking I may not know what the blessing was in this life, but someday I will know. I think in the past twelve years, I have been given glimpses of the blessing we were given on that day. First of all, I saw at a young age how fragile life is. I not only try to treat Mark like it could be my last day with him but also everyone I love. I appreciate every single day I have with him. Little irritants no longer irritate. I can see the way it has matured both of us, how God has molded us both as we have walked through the "fire", especially Mark. Twelve years ago he was the world's worst patient, mad at the nurses, mad at the world, bitter, depressed, everything that they had told us a young heart patient would go through. Now, he accepts everything as just a part of life. He is kind to the nurses, grateful for all they do for him. His attitude is unbelievable. If he does get down, he pulls himself back up. He learned that feeling sorry for himself only manages to make him feel worse. I have watched him learn to rely on God, instead of himself when things get rough. Of course if I could wiggle my nose and give him a strong healthy heart I would, but I can see how the "gift" God gave us has made us the people we are today. I can see that the husband I have at fifty five is an even better version than the one I had at forty two! And I couldn't be more grateful that I am the one lucky enough to have him for at least a few more years.
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