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For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. -The Apostle Paul to the church at Philippi, Philippians 1:21, the Holy Bible
For most Americans, Independence Day 2022 will be remembered as a day of tragedy and triumph. The triumph of the American ideal of ‘liberty for all’ continues to hold sway over our nation and influence the world, just like it has done for 246 years. But, as CBS News and others reported, there were ‘more than 220 shot and killed in US gun violence over the holiday weekend.’
No doubt, the wording of the headline is meant to provoke horror, rage, and a cry for more ‘gun control.’ I have my own side of this debate but it is not my purpose here to divulge or defend it. I just use it as context.
Events of the Heart
I was unaware of any of the outrage over these senseless acts of violence and sadly unaware of the people whose lives ended that day because I was, from the beginning of the day, in my own life struggle.
Over the two weeks leading up to July 4, I had six or more episodes of slight to severe chest pain. It was odd because, when the pain was intense, it was equally so on both sides of my chest. I assumed it was related to digestive issues because it almost always followed a hearty meal, which, sadly, did not keep me from said hearty meals of barbecue or tacos or chicken-fried steak.
In the wee hours of Independence Day, however, things took a turn. I woke about 3:30 with severe pain. It was still the same variety: both sides of my chest. I paced the floor for awhile, tried to lie back down, found I could not, and went to the living room, where I sat in a chair, finally got some relief, and fell asleep for a couple of hours.
Later that morning, after my wife woke and the house came to life, I felt it again but this time with a vengeance. The pain was in the same places but excruciating, mind-numbing, impossible to ignore. I had threatened to go to the emergency room a couple of times before but this time it was no threat. Of course, she did not know how different this was. She got up and said she would get dressed and take me.
Neither of us knew that while she dressed, the pain I was dealing with was a full-on heart event – an attack! We had discussed hospital options before, in case I needed to go. Harris Methodist downtown Fort Worth was the one we selected because of its reputation.
“I can’t make it there,” I gasped. “You have to take me to the one up the street.”
We knew nothing about Medical City North Hills, but that it was only about three miles from the house and, as Metroplex hospitals go, a smaller one. When we arrived, the Emergency Room sign, she noticed, also read ‘chest pain center.’ We had no idea the hospital actually specialized in Cardiac care. It is their calling card, so to speak, the thing they are most proud of and the thing for which they are highly-rated.
I was still not sure it was even my heart.
Within minutes of arriving, they had me on an EKG that showed no abnormalities, so they weren’t convinced, either. But then they put a nitroglycerin pill under my tongue, and in mere minutes, my writhing and gasping ended. The horrible pain in my chest subsided. I was finally ‘easy’ as the country folk I grew up with would say…and they were concerned. That was an indicator to them it was vascular. The pill opens vessels and does so almost immediately. A few minutes later, the results of the blood they took came back. Elevated enzymes told more of the story.
‘Mr. Strother, you have had a heart event. We need to do further exploration to see what is going on.’
Something to Digest
The sobering news that this was not digestive was right there for the digestion.
Over the ensuing hours, I would become a human pin cushion with an IV in the crook of each arm and a parade of good-natured, professional, friendly vampires coming to draw blood for various purposes. The Nitro drip in my right arm kept the Devil at bay. My chest was almost entirely pain-free. The headache it gave me was epic but better that than the panic of chest pain.
The decision was to do a heart cath and to fix whatever needed fixing while in there, if it were possible to do so without cracking my breastplate open and going full-on bypass. If that were needed, they would pull out the catheter and schedule open-heart surgery.
My first clue that they had spotted the culprit was during the Echocardiogram. The tech seemed to land on one spot of interest. She lingered there and came back to it again and again. I knew she was not allowed to divulge information, as she was not medically licensed to do it, so I did not question. I did, however, become convinced she had found a problem.
Next stop, cath lab.
I was told that Dr. Lal is among the best in DFW at what he does. He had a full schedule on Tuesday and I was being inserted into it at the last minute. So, a crackerjack team of nurses – three males and one female – wheeled me into the lab and began preparations.
In the Twilight
When they do a heart cath, they do not put you completely under. Instead, they put you into what they call ‘Twilight.’ You are numbed and maybe a bit distant, but cognizant enough to communicate and to watch the proceedings. I saw an older man – older than the nurses, anyway – take a seat beside me at my right wrist, the one they had secured to some part of the operating table upon which I lay. I knew they planned to enter the artery in my wrist and snake their way up through there with the probe.
I kept wondering when he would begin.
Then I heard him talking and the ‘yes sir’ and ‘no sir’ back at him gave me comfort because they were rife with apparent respect, if not awe. (The nurses had all sung his praises to me on the trip to the lab.) I heard him say ‘balloon’ and then ‘stents’ and I thought, ‘Wait! He has started.’
And he had and he was done in a few minutes thereafter.
The Widow-Maker
In the few words he said to me before leaving to perform his next surgery, he used the words ‘widow-maker’ and ‘lucky.’
He told me it was the ‘LAD – the Left Anterior Descending artery, the one that feeds blood from the heart to the body, the one they call ‘Widow-Maker.’
My LAD, despite the EKG showing pedestrian results, despite my survival of multiple heart events over a two-week period, despite my ignorance and reticence to get to the hospital until I had no choice, was 99.9% clogged. One of my nurses told my wife she had no idea how it functioned at all.
Dr. Lal put two stents in the old Widow-Maker, opened her up for business, and here I am to tell about it.
Providence
Before Dr. Gale talked us through it and Dr. Lal fixed me up, before a wonderful hospital staff attended to my every need, before they saved my life, before any of that, divine providence got me to them. The only hospital I had time to get to before I dropped dead of a massive coronary was the right one for me. They were there, waiting. Just as Mordecai of old suggested to his soon-to-be-famous niece Esther, these
Wonderful people were ready and waiting ‘for such a time as this.’
I was given more time here—more time to make things right.
As I shared in a Facebook post shortly after, ‘I have plenty left to do, a few things to undo, and some things to stop doing. Every day, every minute counts.’
Not alone, Not in Vain
I was also given a chance to hear from expected and unexpected people positive things about the impact I have had on their lives. If you had been around me lately, you would know I was feeling unimportant and unimpactful (which is not a word, but is sure a sentiment). Pointless at times. Useless at others. But then, on Facebook and LinkedIn alike, friends, acquaintances, and people
I only ‘know’ through social media spoke up. I was overwhelmed to learn how many of them felt about me and the role I played in their lives. Truly. Overwhelmed.
My daughters spoke up, too, about their Dad. From oldest to youngest, they cried out.
Ashley, my firstborn, wrote, ‘Really thought my whole world was going to come crashing on me. I know one day you will no longer be here but I will never be ready for that because I will always need my Daddy.’
Lacey, my youngest, wrote, ‘These have been the scariest days of my life. I have never been so close to losing my rock.’
Holly, the Instagram Influencer posted this to her story:
They each gave God the praise and the glory for His intervention and I think something must have gone right along the parenthood trail. If I am proud, I am proud of them!
Donya wrote and wrote about it on Facebook, keeping friends and family in the know. Consequently, friends from all corners of our world and the globe itself chimed in with prayers, support, and well-wishes.
My two bosses and dear friends, Zack and Stacy, said the kindest things to me. Coworkers added to the chorus. Friends wept at the bad news and then praised God when the problem was fixed.
I unequivocally encountered the immutable truth that ‘no man lives to himself and no man dies to himself.’
For to Me…
I got this opportunity to slam on the brakes and take a look at the map. Maybe I took a wrong turn or two. I know I did. Maybe I hurt people along the way. I surely did. I let them down when I should have lifted them up.
For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.
I titled this a near-life experience because in Christ, there is no death. There is but separation of the spirit from the body. There is trading temporal for eternal, damaged for pristine, sorrow for joy, death for life. I came closer to the Crossing than I ever had before. I was literally a heartbeat away. Maybe mere minutes away.
But I was given an extension.
For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.
I was given an extension to work on the first part of that equation, the meaning of life this side of the grave.
And in Conclusion…
I have determined that at the conclusion of each day that I survive, I will look in the mirror and engage myself in this conversation: ‘Well, Gene, you did not die today. But did you live? And how did you live? For what and whom did you live? What about tomorrow?’
I suspect there will be days when I do not like the answer, if I am honest. But, so long as I have my faculties, there will be no day that I do not ask the question.
For to Me
I saw Death today
He reached for me
I got away
I felt the coolness
Of his breath
And the cruelness
Of this thing called Death
“Just a minute
I need to pray
If God is in it
I want to stay”
“You’re mine,”
God said,
“You’re fine,
And Death is Dead.
I’ve got you
Now, Go! Be Me
You’re not through
Go, let them see
My work in you
Your Love for Me.”I saw Death today
He had to go
He could not stay
God told him so
I saw Life today
Not like before
But a different way
I saw You, Lord
You intervened
Imposed Your will
Like I’ve never seen
But I see it stillI saw Death today
And sin’s high price
And so, I pray
That, to me, to live is Christ
And to die is gain.The JourneyMan, July 7, 2022
