I haven’t written about this because I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t really, but I think I need to do this for me. Two years ago today, I almost died. A couple of times actually. My heart stopped, caused, perhaps ironically, by medication I was taking to regulate my heart rhythm.
Our oldest daughter graduated from college earlier in the day. We went out to eat and then stopped in a store to buy her a new Apple watch as a graduation present. As we stood in front of the store saying goodbye to her and her husband, I turned to head to the car and knew something was off but had no time to react. The next thing I knew, I could hear my wife screaming my name and I opened my eyes to see that I was face down in a parking lot.
My kids saw it happen. My wife thought I was gone. I had no idea what had happened. I got to take my first ever ambulance ride and ended up in a nearby hospital, where my heart stopped again. So, they decided that I was not going anywhere. And during the night, my heart stopped again, this time for fourteen seconds. That doesn’t seem long, until you realize that was 15-20 beats my heart missed.
I ended up spending two nights in ICU and two more in the cardiac care unit. The doctors discussed a pacemaker, but then looked at my meds and identified what they thought the cause was. But to get me off the drug, they had to fix the heart problem it was treating.
This was the scariest weekend I have ever gone through, especially the first night. Once I went down, I didn’t get to talk to my kids at all. My daughter and son-in-law got the younger girls away so that they couldn’t see what was happening. I think that was the hardest part of the first night. They came and put a defibrillator on my me and moved me to the ICU. I was alone and didn’t know if I would see my wife and kids again.
Obviously, it all worked out and I am still here. Despite my church background, you are not likely to hear me say that God was really looking out for me that day or anything like that. Truth be told, God is a bigger mystery to me than that these days and that sounds like too easy of an answer.
But, as a friend told me shortly after this…This was going to happen, and it happened at the best time and place it could have. And she was right. We were in the city and the incident happened five minutes from a good heart hospital. It could have happened while I was out walking by myself or driving down the highway (which I would have been doing in about five more minutes!).
A few days after I got out of the hospital, I sat by the pool and wrote about eight pages in my journal about the incident and some messy aftermath. It was a little hard to read because it was really raw. And I have teared up a few times writing this.
Not as much has changed for me as I hoped in those early days following my surgery, but I think some things did. I hope I am a little more chill, a little more aware, a little more kind. I know that I notice beauty around me more. I think I am more patient and a little slower to get angry. I hope I am more loving and present with those closest to me. And I try to be grateful every day. At the end of the day, and the end of our lives, I think these things truly matter.
So be kind, be grateful, be aware. Life is a gift. Make the most of it.