On Second Thought
Thankfulness with a side of gratitude, from the heart
I just spent several days in the midst of a cross-section of humanity.
I was with people who were sick, their healers and all the other unsung heroes who keep the wheels of a hospital turning, like cafeteria staff, housekeeping and the fabulous front desk ladies who buzzed people like me in 9,000 times a day.
I wasn’t a patient, but a (not-so-calm at times) observer.
I turned off the news, stayed off social media for the most part (I just can’t quit you, Wordle) and focused on my husband, Bobby, who underwent open-heart surgery at UT Southwestern in Dallas two weeks ago.
Bobby’s a pretty private person, so other than close friends and family, not many people knew. Afterward, he agreed to let me write about it here, not only to give our thanks to so many people, but Bobby’s case was unusual, and who knows - it might help someone else.
In a nutshell, last October during a heart catheterization our muchloved cardiologist here in Wichita Falls, Dr. Obiagwu, found that Bobby’s arteries weren’t clogged as they suspected (good news!), but he did have calcification in the lining of his heart (bad news, indeed). From what I’ve read and heard, it’s fairly rare, and not often found in live patients. He also has had atrial fibrillation for 19 years and was given no hope for a cure of that condition.
Dr. Obiagwu referred him to another cardiologist, Dr. Grodin at UTSW, who after even more testing, referred him to a surgeon to literally “scrape that bone off his heart.” That surgeon was Dr. Jessen, also at UTSW. I mention all these names because we are grateful to each one of them, and they deserve to be recognized.
Because of this chain of events, Bobby underwent a seven and a half hour surgery that included a pericardiectomy and Cox Maze procedure, and emerged without the lining of his heart, but with a normal heart rhythm for the first time in almost two decades. I cried like a baby and made the surgeon hug me.
What modern science and medicine can do is not only lifesaving, but also mind-blowing in its complexity and simplicity all at once.
Before we left for the surgery I had it on good authority that God lives at that place, and after being there with my man for 10 days, I have to agree. But I learned he doesn’t have an office there - He just is there, in every person you meet. He also sends a lot of angels via text messages and phone calls as well as strangers you meet in the parking garage and the woman from housekeeping who comes in smiling and has a great story.
Some days were better than others, which is apparently how these things go. One day we were up more than 24 hours straight, which isn’t near as much fun as it was in our relative youth. The next day we celebrated our seven-year-old grandson’s birthday on FaceTime and watched him blow out his cupcake candles while we were wedged into Bobby’s twin-sized hospital bed - just us, his tubes and IV’s.
But every day – every single day – we remembered and talked about how grateful we are for our family and friends who had our backs and fronts and sides; the ones who visited and brought banana nut bread and mowed our lawn; and for his doctors and all the nurses who cared for him on the ninth floor ICU and aftercare unit.
And to be perfectly honest, we were incredibly grateful to Maple and Motor for the most amazing and against doctor’s orders greasy hamburger and onions rings we had GrubHubbed to the hospital.
When we finally came home a week ago, we walked out of the hospital with a recipe for hot water cornbread one of his nurses, Moniki, gave me. We also left the hospital with a renewed appreciation for outside air even if it felt like a stroll through a soggy furnace; as well as a healthy supply of that gratitude I’ve been talking about.
You take care of yourself, as we are, and remember to be grateful. In the darkest of the times I described, every person I mentioned gave me a reason to be thankful and that gave me hope.
