I seldom post anything here as most of you know. However, once in a while important things happen.
I have waited till the end of this event to tell the story because we all know a good story has a beginning, a middle AND an end.
I'm happy to say this story has a happy ending. Really happy.
I have waited till the end of this event to tell the story because we all know a good story has a beginning, a middle AND an end.
I'm happy to say this story has a happy ending. Really happy.
Saturday, June 02, 2018 is where our story begins. I had finally decided it was time to get the back fence painted. A trip downtown and I had all the paint and accessories one needs to paint a fence. I then spent the rest of Saturday looking for excuses for not getting the fence done.
Sunday morning dawned sunny and warm with no wind and very few excuses left. A Sunday morning like this one was worthy of a Bailey's and coffee on the deck. Bonnie had already settled on the back step to have her coffee and throw a ball for Nero. It was this very moment that the universe presented the best way to paint a fence.
As I sat on the bench, I felt a strange sensation across the back of my shoulders and both arms felt weak. The sensation progressed into what could only be described as extreme indigestion. I wandered back into the house and stretched out on the couch trying to will the pain to subside. When sweat was starting to soak through my shirt I realized that this was not indigestion.
I walked back out onto the deck, Bonnie looked up and said, "Good timing. I just landed Nero's ball in the eaves trough. Could you get it down?"
I responded with something like, "OK, just give me a minute....". She eyed me up and down and suggested going to the hospital instead. I took a moment and simply replied, "ok".
It didn't take the medical professionals long to decide that, after nearly 55 years of preparation, I had finally managed to have a heart attack. They decided that the level of success I had achieved in the endeavor warranted an air ambulance trip to St. Paul's hospital in Vancouver.
In that moment, nature's grand plan was revealed to me. I was never meant to paint that fence. My role was to supply the materials so that Bonnie would have something to keep her occupied while I was away in hospital.
Sunday morning dawned sunny and warm with no wind and very few excuses left. A Sunday morning like this one was worthy of a Bailey's and coffee on the deck. Bonnie had already settled on the back step to have her coffee and throw a ball for Nero. It was this very moment that the universe presented the best way to paint a fence.
As I sat on the bench, I felt a strange sensation across the back of my shoulders and both arms felt weak. The sensation progressed into what could only be described as extreme indigestion. I wandered back into the house and stretched out on the couch trying to will the pain to subside. When sweat was starting to soak through my shirt I realized that this was not indigestion.
I walked back out onto the deck, Bonnie looked up and said, "Good timing. I just landed Nero's ball in the eaves trough. Could you get it down?"
I responded with something like, "OK, just give me a minute....". She eyed me up and down and suggested going to the hospital instead. I took a moment and simply replied, "ok".
It didn't take the medical professionals long to decide that, after nearly 55 years of preparation, I had finally managed to have a heart attack. They decided that the level of success I had achieved in the endeavor warranted an air ambulance trip to St. Paul's hospital in Vancouver.
In that moment, nature's grand plan was revealed to me. I was never meant to paint that fence. My role was to supply the materials so that Bonnie would have something to keep her occupied while I was away in hospital.
That brings us around to the five days that make up the middle of the story. Boredom, disappointment, anxiety, and more than just a little navel gazing make up the majority of those days. It's humbling to realize that hundreds of people every day are experiencing some level of heart attack or disease. St. Paul's is a renowned heart hospital and as such is a stupidly busy place. Triage demands that the dying get help before the critical, the critical before the urgent and apparently everyone else before the guys in room 12.
Room 12 on the 5th floor is right at the end of the hall. For a while it felt like that's where they put the forgotten, those without hope. As fate would shape it, if the right four guys are put in a dismal, hopeless place, that space can be transformed. It took a day or so but the hospital came to realize that the power of hope and camaraderie spilling into the hallway from room 12 proved that even these poor souls deserved saving. One by one, each member of our small group got their turn with the surgeons. One by one, each member shook hands with those remaining and solemnly took there rightful place back in the hands of their families.
Today, the last member of the Cardiac Club will step across the threshold of room 12, hopefully never to return. Back into the waiting arms of his family. Stronger, wiser and enriched by a small band with a common goal. Get better. Get home.
As I look forward to the flight home, I can't help but wonder how much of that fence Bonnie got done.
Room 12 on the 5th floor is right at the end of the hall. For a while it felt like that's where they put the forgotten, those without hope. As fate would shape it, if the right four guys are put in a dismal, hopeless place, that space can be transformed. It took a day or so but the hospital came to realize that the power of hope and camaraderie spilling into the hallway from room 12 proved that even these poor souls deserved saving. One by one, each member of our small group got their turn with the surgeons. One by one, each member shook hands with those remaining and solemnly took there rightful place back in the hands of their families.
Today, the last member of the Cardiac Club will step across the threshold of room 12, hopefully never to return. Back into the waiting arms of his family. Stronger, wiser and enriched by a small band with a common goal. Get better. Get home.
As I look forward to the flight home, I can't help but wonder how much of that fence Bonnie got done.
Addendum...
It hit me at about 4 am as the nurse was tending to 3 new patients, each behind their own curtains, suffering in solitude.
Before I left this morning I went around and met each one and introduced them to each other. I handed them my phone and let them read the story.
When I left they all had their curtains open, laughing and cheering me good luck and safe travels.
Hopefully they find that same bond our group did. With luck they all pull through and cherish the people that shared that frightening moment in their life. For a brief moment strangers become your lifeline. We are all human. We need each other to gain our own strength.
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