You Gotta Have Heart

“You’ve gotta have heart, All you really need is heart. When the odds are sayin’ you’ll never win, That’s when the grin should start. . .” (From the musical, “Darn* Yankees” by Jerry Ross and Richard Adler, 1955**). I thought of attaching an audio file to this blog of me singing that song, but then I realized it would be heartless of me to do so.

Last week, I had a heart procedure. Technically, it was a heart catheterization (cath), in which a tube was inserted into my wrist and threaded up into one of my cardiac arteries to see if it had any blockages. I had not suffered any heart failure, chest pains, or any other symptoms indicating a heart problem, but the doctors required the test before giving me clearance to have some long-awaited corrective foot surgery. The procedure went very well: the cardiologist announced that the artery was clear and there was no problem. That was great news, and hopefully this was the last hurdle before fixing my foot.

Strangely, I had no fear of either the procedure or any negative results they might have found. Partly, I felt fine and thought of the procedure as “overkill” (maybe not the best term to use when considering someone threading a tube into your heart). Also, I was confident that God would protect me and use the procedure to reveal either my health or my need for some corrective action, either of which would be a good result. Therefore, all through the prepping and recovery periods (which took much more time than the actual procedure), I found myself in a good mood. So much so, that I began finding humor in various aspects of the experience. Like the above-mentioned song says, “That’s when the grin should start. . .”

My first grin was when I registered at the Patient desk. That was right off the street on the ground level, which made sense. But then, to go to the heart cath clinic, you had to walk about a block away, up to the next floor in a different building. I wondered how many patients they lose between registration and the clinic, since all the patients they send up there have heart issues! Maybe, if you make it all the way to the clinic without having a heart attack, they release you as being healthy! Fortunately, due to my foot issue, I had arranged for a wheel chair and attendant to push me to the clinic. Karen and our friend Peg had to walk behind (as usual).

Next came the arrival at the clinic, where I was ushered into a curtained-off room where I would be prepped. Of course, I had to change into a hospital gown, which was missing a tie on the “backside,” (not that there was a backside to be tied!) My wife Karen was in the room with me, and she asked for a better gown for me They brought me one that was twice the size of the other; it was warmer and had two ties, but they were both up by my neck, so the backside coverage was not much better than the first one.

Fortunately, I lay on my back almost the entire time. Except when I had to use the bathroom. I tried to postpone that trip, and at first thought I didn’t have to go. But then, the videos on the large-screen monitor in the room changed. The pictures on the video loop were intended to calm and relax the patients: beautiful scenes of mountains and prairies, desert flowers, fields of colorful blooms, and baby animals frolicking in the grass. So cute. So restful. Until the scenes changed. It started innocently at first – just some trees after a rainstorm, dripping water off their leaves. Then the drips increased to little rivulets, pouring into puddles. I tried to look away. I tried to think of the desert scenes again. But then came the streams and rivers, then mighty waterfalls, and by the time the scenery changed to huge waves crashing into the shore, I was on my button asking the nurse to get me to the bathroom. Later, after the procedure, they brought me back to the same room – and the same evil video. This time, they wouldn’t let me get up to go, so I learned how to use a plastic gallon jug in a reclining position.

I had great nurses. One female nurse complimented my smooth, soft wrist; I corrected her to use the word “rugged” instead. Then a male nurse came in. He looked so old – thinning gray hair, unsteady walk, hunched over with what used to be called a “dowager’s hump.” Then I found out he was 11 years younger than me! He had had a kidney transplant after 10 years on dialysis. And he said he had the heart of a 20-year old – literally – having received a heart transplant from a 20-year old girl who died of head injuries while skateboarding at Yosemite. Ironically, while he told me about her, the monitor behind him was showing peaceful mountain scenes of – you guessed it – Yosemite. I did not call his attention to it.

One of the female nurses was being trained for the unit, and as she read my vitals, I asked her if I were her first patient. She chuckled and said no, that she had been a nurse for many years, and was just new in this unit. I liked her response, so when the cardiologist came in to make his pre-op visit, I asked him the same question, “Is this your first heart cath?” To which he replied, “No. I’ve done 15,000 of them.” No chuckle. No smile. No humor. No way I’m ever going to ask that again of any doctor before operating on me.

According to my chart, I slept during the heart cath, though I don’t remember dozing off at all. I thought I had been awake the whole time, but was surprised how quickly the procedure went. So likely, I had slept some from the sedatives they had administered to me. The following Sunday, I ran into Don, one of our church members, who was going in for a heart cath the next day. I wanted to encourage and calm him with how smoothly mine had gone, so I told him, “Yeah, I guess I actually slept during the process without even knowing it.” To which he instantly replied, “Sort of like us during one of your sermons.” Ouch! That hurt worse than the cath itself!

So, a week has gone by since my heart procedure. I feel fine, and am relieved that the results were so good. I am thankful to God for my heart health, for protection during the surgery, for the good medical staff (even the one who wouldn’t smile), for a sense of humor, and for the faith which welcomed any result as God’s will for me. On the way to church Sunday I thought about the praise song, “Give Thanks,” by Don Moen, and felt how appropriate it would be to sing it for this experience; I was not surprised when I got to church to find that “golden oldie” was one of the worship songs for our service:

“Give thanks, with a grateful heart. . . “

A grateful heart, indeed!

And now may the Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you, the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace. Amen.

Read:

• Psalm 9:1 “I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart; I will recount all of your wonderful deeds.”
• Psalm 10:17 “O Lord, you hear the desire of the afflicted; you will strengthen their heart; you will incline your ear.”
• Psalm 13:5 “But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.”
• Psalm 19:14 “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.”
• Psalm 28:7 “The Lord is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to him.”
• Psalm 51:10 “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.”
• Psalm 57:7 “My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast! I will sing and make melody!”
• Romans 10:9-10 “because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.  For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved.”

 

*Not the actual title, but this is a family blog . . .

** No, I did not watch the musical when it came out. At that time I was busy watching Romper Room, Soupy Sales, Sagebrush Shorty, and Looney Tunes cartoons. I’m not that old.