Have you ever thought that you could be thankful for a heart attack? I'm sure
you haven't and neither had I until the time that my husband had a heart attack
in May of 1991. It all started in early May when my husband and I had gone to
Williamsburg for a vacation. We arrived there on Saturday, made preparations for
a week's stay and on Sunday we drove to Virginia Beach to pick up our daughter
and son-in-law and bring them back to spend the week. We had great plans to see
the sights of the area and just enjoy being together.
Before we left Va. Beach, my husband made the comment that he wasn't feeling
well and didn't want to lift the heavy luggage into the trunk of the car. Fine,
we got that taken care of. But on the way back to Williamsburg I noticed that he
began to perspire and his hands became very fidgety on the wheel. I offered to
drive, but he said no, he was fine and could drive.
When we arrived back in Williamsburg and got everything in to the condo where we
were staying, I fixed lunch and he ate. But he still didn't look too good. I
asked him to let me run him over to the hospital be he replied that he would be
all right but was going to lie down for a while. After a little time he came out
where we were with his toiletry case and a pair of pajamas in his hand and said
maybe I should run him to the hospital. And that's just what I did.
When we entered the emergency room and told them his symptoms, they hurried him
back to have a look at him, leaving me to fill out all the forms. Before I could
get through and go back where he was, the doctor came out to tell me that he was
having a heart attack right then. They wanted to give him a drug called TPA
which was known to stop an attack and possibly reverse any damage that had been
done. But there were possible side effects that had to be considered including
bleeding from the orifices. If he had had any surgery recently it could cause
bleeding from the incision. Well, the fact was that he had had some surgery just
shortly before that. He had carpal tunnel surgery on his wrist. I wasn't sure
what we should do and decided to call our family doctor in Martinsville, VA.
When I heard his phone ring I just prayed that he would be in. I knew that he
often played golf on these beautiful afternoons. When I heard his voice I
thought I could just crawl through the phone and give him a hug. After we talked
a bit he conversed with the doctor in charge at that time and they decided to
give him the medication.
They placed him in ICU and later in the evening my son arrived from his home in
Delaware. He spent the night and on Monday he took my daughter and her husband
back to Va. Beach after they had seen her Dad. My son came back to Williamsburg
and we followed an ambulance carrying my husband to Richmond to the hospital
there.
Over the next couple of days they ran tests to see what kind of damage had been
done and decide what to do. Bear in mind that he had had open heart surgery 16
years before at Baptist Hospital in Winston Salem, NC. It was determined that he
would have to undergo the same surgery again and one week after he arrived at
MCV the surgery took place. This happened on our 41st wedding anniversary.
My son and his wife and child and my daughter and her husband were there as well
as the minister and a number of folks from the church we attended back in
Martinsville. Thankfully, he came through the surgery fine. I had found a motel
nearby and was staying there at night and at the hospital all day every day. It
seemed he was progressing nicely until I went in one morning and he was all
hooked up to tubes and lying quietly and I could see that something was wrong. I
was told that he seemed to be bleeding from somewhere inside but they didn't
know where. He had just sort of relapsed during the night.
They began running tests and said they believed that he had a stomach problem
but they were going to let him go home and they wanted him back in a week or two
for another test. It had been three weeks since this all started and I had made
my home in the motel at night and in the hospital by day, not being able to go
back home for anything. We were both very happy to get home.
After a couple of weeks at home we went back to Richmond for the test and then
they sent him home again. He was beginning to perk up pretty good from his
surgery and we planned a trip to Delaware to visit our son. He was to go around
August 1 for another test and then we were going on from there to be at our
son's home for his birthday on August 5. But they called and asked him to come
earlier with the explanation that a certain doctor wanted to do the test and he
was going on vacation during the time he was to come. When we got there and they
took him in for the test they told him that they didn't need to do anymore
testing, that he had stomach cancer and needed to have surgery for that.
Now let me interject here that he had not had one symptom of any stomach problem
before this time. So the question is, how much longer might it have been before
we knew that he had stomach cancer if it had not been found because of his heart
attack and ensuing surgery. We felt that we needed to be thankful for the heart
attack because it led to the discovery of the stomach cancer, and as it turned
out, in time to do something about it.
I know you are probably wondering so let me just add that on July 31, 1991, he
underwent successful stomach surgery and was found to be cancer free after that.
He did not have to take any kind of treatment or medication.
It certainly was a very traumatic time for both of us and we feel blessed that
everything turned out as well as it did. And to this day we say, "Thank you God
for a heart attack."
Jean Fitzgerald jfitzger@neocom.net
A little bit about Jean:
I live in town of 15,000 in Virginia and just celebrated my 50th wedding
anniversary in May. I have three children, Julie, Jody and Jay. Five
grandchildren, Adam 17, Susan 13, Seth 11, Bryce 2 1/2, Zachary 7 months. They
are the sunshine of my life. I teach Sunday School, like all kinds of music, and
am a member of Toastmasters International. I enjoy playing golf and look forward
to each day with thanksgiving.
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