I have not written for approximately 6 months. One of my last writings was about my father having died and been buried on his 58th birthday. I was approximately a week from my own 58th birthday and death was very much on my mind. As it turns out, I lived longer than my father ... but not by much.
My wife and I went camping shortly after my birthday. On July 8th after supper we went wading in Higgins Lake, Michigan. I made it about 100 yards off shore and suddenly lost all energy. I could not move. Not paralyzed. Simply no energy. I called my wife back to me and over the next hour plus we made it back to shore and then to the camper. She helped me get cleaned up then I went in and went to bed.
I had no pain. None of the classical symptoms of a heart attack. I was simply exhausted. I huffed and puffed with what would have normally been the smallest of efforts and so thought something was wrong with my lungs. At some point in the middle of the night I awoke and felt discomfort on my sternum. Not pain. More like I need to crack it? Anyway, I took 2 Bayer Back and Body and drifted back to sleep. Those aspirin might have saved my life.
The next day I was in the hospital having all kinds of tests ran on me. It was decided I needed open heart surgery. So, I had a double by-pass. All went well and I was sent home. After several days at home my health began to deteriorate and I went back to the cardiologist on August 6th for a check up. Fluid on and in the lungs. They brought in a specialist and drained 2 L of fluid from me. I was sent home 15 minutes after the procedure.
My father-in-law was driving and we didn't make it 10 minutes down the road before I went into respiratory arrest. I told him to head to a nearby satellite hospital. He started there but within a minute or so, I knew I was in trouble. I told my wife to call 9-1-1. We met the squad at a local post office. I remember yakking up nasty phlegm and arguing about lying down on a stretcher with the EMTs. The ambulance began moving before the doors were even shut.
I don't remember much after that. I am told they wheeled me into the emergency ward and I went into Sudden Cardiac Arrest. I was unresponsive for up to 13 minutes. I was dead. A priest gave me last rites. I was also told they flipped me onto my stomach to do CPR on my back as my wounds were not completely healed from my by-pass surgery. I was shocked, repeatedly. Finally, they brought me back to life.
Over the next 10 days they drained over 63,000 ml of fluid from around and in my lungs as well as my stomach area. When I finally returned home I was better but not feeling like I thought I should. This eventually led me to seek a second opinion from the world renowned Cleveland Clinic where I was once again admitted and spent another 11 days hospitalized. At the Cleveland Clinic I was taken off some medicines and put on others. My body rebelled against a couple of medicines. Finally the doctors got things sorted for me and I was discharged.
When I finally arrived back home I was feeling much better. It's been slow and steady progress since then. I'm feeling good these days but not great. My heart efficiency dropped from 45% after my first hospital stay to around 30% after having died. I don't know that it will ever recover. I’m told it is possible so I am doing all I can to make it happen. I still breathe pretty heavily when doing simple things like walking although I can walk or ride the recumbent bike for 30 minutes straight with little problem. I'm lucky to be alive. Grateful. Thanks be to God.
