The Widowmaker

It has been a long time since my last post.  I usually don't post just anything.  I wait for a life change or something that really gets my attention.  Things like a heart attack or a new grandson.

Well, I have had both.  In December of 2013, I felt a tightness in my chest and something told me it was not normal.   I waited for my wife to come home and I told her to take me to the hospital.  My wife is a very smart lady and gave me about six aspirins before we left the trailer.

The usual argument took place in the car as to whether I needed to go to the emergency room or just to a local MediQuick.  Melissa won the argument and took me to the ER.   They ran the usual tests (EKG, etc.) and did not find anything wrong.  However, we have some pretty smart doctors in Texas and they also ran some blood tests that indicated I had a heart attack or I am about to have one.

I got my first ride in an ambulance that same day and arrived at the hospital that afternoon.   I was not in pain and did not have what I thought were the usual symptoms.  I guess I was just in denial.  The next morning, three very serious looking doctors came to visit me and told me they were going to take me to surgery to do an angioplasty.   Well, I was new in town and I had no knowledge of this hospital or these doctors.   I balked and told them I needed to have some time to make a decision.

One of my concerns was my insurance was going to run out at the end of the month and I didn't know how much these things cost.   The other question was "What the heck is an angioplasty?"   A very nice nurse brought me some information and my darling wife, Melissa, helped me to make my decision.  I learned that an angioplasty involves a procedure that allows the doctor to place a fiber optic tube in my arm and travel all the way up to my heart.  It is considered the "gold standard" for finding out if you have any artery or heart problems. 

The procedure is done while you lay naked on a cold table and watch five or six people operate "joy sticks" and monitors which record the whole process.  Although I had a valium, I was awake the whole time and found the level of skill and communication involved fascinating.   The doctors found a major artery called an LAD was 98% blocked and decided to do the angioplasty.  Melissa got to come into the operating room and see the blockage.

Wilkapedia says "Angioplasty is the technique of mechanically widening narrowed or obstructed arteries. An empty and collapsed balloon on a guide wire is passed into the narrowed or blocked arteries and then inflated to a fixed size. The balloon forces expansion of the inner plaque deposits and the surrounding muscular wall, opening up the blood vessel for improved flow, and the balloon is then deflated and withdrawn. A stent may or may not be inserted at the time of ballooning to ensure the vessel remains open."

The "LAD" or left anterior descending artery supplies about 50% of the blood to the heart.  Because the LAD provides much of the bloodflow for the left ventricle, which in turn provides much of the propulsive force for ejecting oxygenated blood to the circulation system via the aorta, blockage of this artery is particularly associated with death. In the medical community heart attacks associated with this blood vessel are commonly called "the Widowmaker."

So I considered myself a lucky man for not making Melissa a widow.  After the procedure, I went home the next day and my energy level increased 100%.  I no longer needed to take naps in the middle of the day and I wasn't tired all the time.   I felt great.   I went to classes called "Cardiac Rehab" for a couple of weeks and they monitored my heart while I exercised.   They also gave me a lot of information on how to watch what I eat and how to get enough exercise.

I want to encourage all of you who may be heading for a heart attack to take the warning signs seriously.  If I had waited one more day, I could have died.   Please err on the side of caution and go to the Emergency Room if you have any tightness in your chest or even if it just feels like indigestion.  Your body will tell you something is wrong.   Don't wait for severe pain or vomiting or some other symptom.   Just go and have it checked out.

The Last Vacation (1966)

While driving home from work the other day and listening to the 60’s channel on Sirius XM, I heard “Summer in the City” by the Lovin’ Spoonful.  You may remember the lyrics…

 

“Hot town, summer in the city

Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty

Been down, isn't it a pity

Doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city

All around, people looking half dead

Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head” 

It immediately brought me back to a happy moment in the summer of 1966 while driving through East Texas with my stepfather, Weldon, and my little brother Woody.   It was our annual (and for me, my last) summer vacation before college.  My sister, Marcia, had already started college and wasn’t on this trip.  Woody and I had been inseparable for the last 11 years of his life.  I was his older brother, babysitter, counselor and tormentor.  
 

With my sister gone most of the time and my mother always working, it was up to me to watch out for Woody and to provide what little entertainment I could in those lazy days of summer.  Weldon divorced our Mom in 1961 and provided support and a once a year vacation for us.  The vacation was always the same. 

We would travel several hundreds of miles in Weldon’s 1960 Ford Galaxy 500 to Lake Charles, LA for a week.  Then we would travel several hundred more miles to North Texas to stay with relatives.  The highlight of the trip was a one day visit to “Six Flags Over Texas” theme park in Dallas.  The week in Lake Charles was often hot, humid and boring.  Weldon’s house had no air conditioning and the attic fan would draw moist air through a window at night to keep us cool.  We would wake up with wet sheets the next morning.  The refineries also provided a sulfur odor to go along with the moist air.  Woody and I took pictures of Weldon in his Border Patrol uniform with his gun drawn like a scene from an old western.  We also posed with the gun.  Mom still has the pictures.




 

The road trips were long and seemed forever.  Weldon was one of those Dads more interested in “getting there” than he was in stopping to see the sights.  We often had to beg him to stop just for a bathroom break.  I remember the “road trip from hell” in 1956 when we drove a 1955 Buick from Camden, NJ to Brownsville, TX in five days without any stops.  I was carsick for 4 of the 5 days.  Weldon wouldn’t stop although I was sick and about to vomit.  He almost wrecked the car when I vomited over his shoulder and into his lap.  I heard a lot of cuss words that trip.

During our vacation in the summer of 1965, we stopped at a roadside park with a tall fire watch tower.  Woody and I couldn’t resist climbing the 20 or so flights of stairs to the top.  That was before lawsuits and locked facilities.  I remember the summer of 1966 was very hot.  Woody and I sat next to Weldon on the front bench seat so we could be close to the small air conditioner unit under the dash. 

 

As boys will do we entertained ourselves by non-stop talking, singing to the radio and picking on one another.  It must have been stressful for Weldon.  At one point, Weldon had enough and shouted “Hot Damn.”   Without missing a beat, Woody and I broke into song by singing “Summer in the City.”  It was a memorable moment that brought laughter to both of us.  I don’t think Weldon got the joke.  It was also a sad moment because it was to be the last vacation and the last of my relationship with Woody for a long time.

My senior year in high school was a whirlwind of activity and I did not spend many evenings and weekends with Woody and his neighborhood friends. No more pretending he was Spiderman and I was the Hulk.  No more playing “torture track” by riding blindfolded on the back of a banana bike while I drove up and over sidewalks and obstacles.  No more practical jokes and the resulting beating I would give Woody and “Jimbo” Kittany when I chased them down the street.  No more laying in bunk beds late at night and making up stupid things to say or climbing out on the roof to cool off.

Finally, the day arrived for me to make my last trip to Lake Charles to start college at McNeese State University.  I said my goodbyes, but as a sixth grader, Woody, expected he would see me soon.  He was wrong.  I seldom came back to Blytheville, Arkansas after I started college.  I worked 2-3 jobs at a time and took a full schedule of courses.  It was the only way I could afford to attend college and also keep my student deferment from the Vietnam War draft. 

I only remember coming home once after the end of my freshman year.  Woody and Jimbo would often sit around and reminisce about the fun we used to have.  Then Woody experienced junior high, girls and other distractions and life moved on.  I worked and studied for five years until I graduated.  At one point, I dropped my student deferment and waited to be drafted.  My draft lottery number was 79 out of 365, so I was pretty sure I would go to Vietnam.  However, the war was winding down by 1970 and I wasn’t called.

Woody became “Woodrow” and dropped out of school.  He moved to Cooper, TX where Weldon had retired and bought a house.  During that time of lost innocence and the hardships of life, we lost contact with each other and, sadly, we never got to know each other as adults.  I was no longer the older brother Woody looked up to and he had learned to take care of himself.  I visited Woody and Weldon in the little town of Cooper, TX one summer at the end of my junior year.  Woody introduced me to “weed” and his friends, but I never chose to go down that path.  I left town disappointed and lonely.

In the years after college, I became a committed Christian while Woody became a committed pagan.  Weldon and I grew closer because I wasn’t angry at the world anymore and forgave my past.  Woody was unreachable and became more introverted as an adult.   Most of my trips to Weldon’s house during the post-college period found Woody was not around.  Weldon and I would sit on the front porch and watch my daughter play in the yard.  Weldon told me he was proud of me (for the first time in my life).   I was a happy man.

Now the song “Summer in the City” brings a bittersweet sadness to me.  I did not know at that time that simple moments of joy and happiness were so temporary.  I did not imagine the closeness Woody and I had would end.  I guess it is true that happiness is a momentary thing and we should enjoy those moments while we can.  Live for the moment and cherish what happiness and joy life gives you.  Value the relationships in your life and don’t let your goals and ambitions cause you to lose them.

And never stop listening to the "oldies."

All I've Got Is Leaving On My Mind

I was sure by now God you would have reached down

And wiped our tears away,

Stepped in and saved the day.

But once again, I say amen

That’s it’s still raining,

As the thunder rolls

I barely hear your whisper through the rain,

“I’m with you.”

And as the mercy falls

I raise my hands and praise

The God who gives and takes away.

 [Praise You in This Storm – Casting Crowns]

In this time of warfare and trouble, I long for the coming of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior.  Only He can bring real peace to this dying world.  Only He can govern this world.  Only He can restore and heal this world.  My constant prayer has been Revelation 22:20 He (Jesus) which testifieth these things (the Word from Genesis to Revelation) saith, “Surely I come quickly.  (And we say..) Amen.  Even so, come, Lord Jesus!.”  Of course, I sometimes add: “Even so, come (quickly), Lord Jesus!”

Each year, at the Feast of Trumpets, I watch and pray to be found ready for His coming and when He doesn’t come, I say “Maybe, next year.”   So if you see me looking at the clouds and seeming distracted, it is just because I have leaving on my mind.

I have been fighting this spiritual battle for more than 42 years, and to be honest, I am tired.  My only hope is in Him.  My peace and joy only come from His Presence.  This world is not my home.  I am a pilgrim and a stranger in this world.  I just don’t fit in the world’s system.  An outcast that walks, talks and thinks differently from the rest of society.  Thank God, I meet with some of God’s children from time to time.

I have no fear of the world to come.  It is more like home to me than anything in this present world.  I long to be free of the presence of sin and to enjoy the glory of heaven.  Don’t get me wrong.  I know God isn’t finished with me yet and I do have a hunger to obey God and see souls born again and lives changed.  He said in Galatians 6:9:  “And let us not be weary in well doing, for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.”  And again in 2 Thessalonians 3:13: “But ye, brethren, be not weary in well doing.”   I can understand why He had to tell us that twice.

If your heart is broken and it seems God is far away.  Remember.  He is as close as your breath.  Pray right now to the God who always listens and receive a greater measure of His Spirit and faith.  He will come sooner than you think and then a lifetime of sorrows will be worth it all.  Encourage yourself in the Lord.  And when He has encouraged you, encourage others.