Heart-Attack-recovery – Page 2

Providence will rise before the sun

teacuppamela I haven’t written in awhile… well, at least not here on my blog—mostly bcz I’ve not really had motivation to write. Words… gazillions of words are posted day after day and so many are worthwhile—but in the heaps of gazillions of words so many worthwhile things are buried. I receive and delete entries every day. You probably do, too. I guess I’ve not wanted to add to the heaps of words — or to the trashbins of email accounts, either. I love to write. I love to share what the Lord is doing. But I’m also really insecure about writing. Especially knowing there are so many talented writers out there, putting out polished entries complete with photos and commendations. I don’t have a whole lot of that. But one thing I have is a passion to share what the Lord has done, is doing and how gracious and merciful He is and how great His love is for me. And for you — for us all.

All I know of tomorrow is that Providence will rise before the sun.”

Day after day I saw that quote on the computer screens all around the hospital. In the emergency room. In the waiting rooms. In the private rooms. It had such a profound effect on my thinking. I feel as though the Lord had that quote for me to see over and over again so that I would walk through each day with confidence that He was going before me — that no matter what happened, my times are in His hands: He only does all things well; He loves me; He has each experience in hand for my good and His glory. And over the course of many days, I would see Providence going before me.

Nearly three weeks ago, I called my husband, as I customarily do in the afternoons, to say hello, to see how his day was going and to see when he’d be home for dinner. That Wednesday afternoon was no different — except that our son answered the phone when I called. Not necessarily thinking it strange, I asked how things were going… he related that dad wasn’t feeling well. Never once assuming something different, I just thought that they’d had something bad for lunch or whatever. Not until my husband drove in and started out of the truck did my thoughts immediately change — suddenly spliced into my movie were the words, “are you having a heart attack?”

Over the next several hours we would go through a very familiar process of waiting and waiting. Later that night, settled into his room, we’d hear more familiar words and assumed we knew the next procedure. I was unprepared but strangely not surprised by the doctor’s report and diagnosis after the heart cath procedure. When another cardiologist came in to talk with my husband about what was needed, my husband said he’d be able to schedule the procedure in sixty or ninety days or so… it just wasn’t a good time for it right now. Heart attacks are funny things… you never know when they’re going to happen and they sure take you by surprise. And, they’re inconvenient.

Being that our situation wasn’t all that conducive to scheduling a $urgery of that magnitude, we determined to pray… to seek the Lord and His very clear direction as to what we ought to do next. What should we do next? There were lots of ideas, lots of conversations, lots of opinions, but we clearly needed the Lord’s precise direction. We prayed He would make our path very plain. And He did.

Providence did, indeed, rise before the sun.

Tell ya ’bout it next time.

THM… so much hope

teacuppamela As I press on, on the THM (Trim Healthy Mama) journey, I have so much hope. I have so much hope bcz I’m so not alone and I’m so not seeing this as a diet but a different way of approaching health and nutrition. I say this bcz I’ve experienced so many diets in the past. And the difference, for me, with Trim Healthy Mama (after this, THM), is that it’s not a limited time diet. By this I mean, it’s not the lemonade-type diet or the military-type diet or the mama with a wayward child/depression diet or the zone-type diet or name another type of diet that’s generally undertaken for a limited period of time and eventually the old way of eating returns. And so do the pounds.

Now, why did I say I’m so not alone in this? Easy… thousands of other women are implementing the THM plan in their own lives and homes and numerous websites, Facebook groups and Pinterest pins are dedicated to THM. Women all over are sharing their successes, before and after’s, struggles, plans, recipes, suggestions and enthusiastic encouragement with relative strangers–but not strangers really, who’re traveling the same journey. Shared experiences give hope… shared understanding gives hope… all this gives women the motivation to press on. All this, and more, keeps me pressing on.

I’d hazard to guess that for a lot of women who seriously undertake the THM plan, there comes some sort of a day of reckoning, a day or time where they recognize that food and excess weight and out of control eating is symptomatic of deeper issues—things the Lord intends bring to the light and to help deal with—and what originally interested them in doing a new thing to lose weight, a different diet or whatever is not what keeps them on plan. What keeps them (and now, me) on plan is the daily journey to health and yielding to the Lord the area of food and its stronghold–or previous stronghold.

I’m finding incredible freedom in not eating everything I want — freedom in recognizing that food had a stronghold on me and day by day I’m seeing this stronghold’s grip diminishing. The Lord’s addressing some areas that don’t seem to have anything to do with food–but yet food’s been the outward stronghold. See, here’s an example… I so often ~~don’t~~ didn’t want to “diet” bcz I love, love, love café mochas. Love em. ~~Drink~~ drank ’em every morning. Yes, plural. Yes, every morning. Hot milk, two pumps of chocolate and a long shot of coffee. Drink, rinse, repeat. Didn’t want to give ’em up—–couldn’t give ’em up—-wouldn’t give ’em up. But I began to recognize that my delights were harming me–too much sugar was causing problems and I knew I needed to make some changes. I was loving the sugar but it wasn’t loving me back. And isn’t that how sin is? We give in and it mockingly smacks us on the backside.

Looking back, I really think I thought I’d make some changes and get on track and then be able to go back to the same ol’ same ol’ ways (especially since I’ve done this soooo many times). That was foolishness–and I know it. I really know it now. Greater than all that, I now also know that the Lord was putting His finger on some deeper matters, using all of this to help me be willing to deal with other non-food related issues. It is His mercy and lovingkindness to bring us to these places of correction and brokenness in our walk with Him. It is for freedom He set us free. I’d lost sight of that somewhere along the way.

Interestingly, what eventually brought me to THM began with that search for health remedies. Still struggling with some ongoing health issues, still searching for solutions, I began to see frequent connections with the Trim Healthy Mama book. Some of my Google searches for low/no sugar or low glycemic index recipes took me to a few blogs/sites I thoroughly enjoy today — I didn’t initially see the THM connection! Sadly, over the last year because of family busyness and other things, I hadn’t been tracking along with the Above Rubies site nor the progress of the writing of the THM book—though I’d seen copies of it here and there, recently. Additionally, I regret I hadn’t been in close touch with local friends who where already working the THM plan, else I might’ve had some questions answered earlier and I might’ve had some health issues addressed earlier, too. But I have to continually affirm: I’m pressing on; no worries, I’m simply glad for the opportunity to have this book in hand now and I’m pressing on (with thousands of other women! ~smile~). I have so much hope… and I’m pressing on.

30 Favourite Things #8

This is a copy of a post I wrote in May ’08. I am re-posting it as part of my 30 Favourite Things of my Fiftieth Year because that event was an exceedingly significant event whereby the LORD demonstrated His watchcare and His love. And I know all the more now — actually, to a much greater degree than I did all those months ago: that no matter what: God loves me with an everlasting love and should HE decide to take my husband home — I know that I know He will provide for me. His love is that great — His care is that perfect and His will is that trustworthy. Having just celebrated our 31st wedding anniversary, more than ever I am sure I never want to live a day without my husband… but more than ever I am sure that if it is God’s will that I do so, I will trust in Him.

This, from May ’08:

“You know, I’m so thankful for the difficult times – for it’s not in the seemingly ‘easy’ times we see (or seek) God so readily or clearly as in the darker, more uncertain, times. The sweet thing about learning this is that when suddenly faced with calamity or trials it’s easier to see a testing of faith. I guess testings of faith are things we tend to want to avoid, but they’re the very things we will later see as sweet blessings — times we’ll later recall as ‘the best thing that ever happened to me’ sort of experiences. Blessings in disguise — that’s what most trials are.

Last Friday morning we had planned to head to the Oregon Coast for the annual Shield of Faith family conference at Twin Rocks. Thanks to our Hannah, plans were well underway; the van washed and vacuumed, filled with fuel and other necessary items for the eagerly anticipated long drive early the next morning. Our house was ship shape, top to bottom — everything neatly in place, the van completely packed and ready to go. Some sleeping in their ‘trip clothes,’ the children tucked all snug in their beds while visions of good friends, good food, singing, Bible teaching and beach play danced in their heads. We all snuggled into bed…

As we sat in the emergency room last Thursday night, I was consciously aware that the LORD had allowed the current ‘trail of my faith.’ It was one of those: ‘I’ve been this way before’ sort of moments and in those, ‘I’ve been this way before’ moments, because I saw the Hand of the LORD in the past, it’s easier to see His Hand in the present. I think if we miss seeing the Hand of the LORD in trials — or don’t acknowledge His presence, then it’s likely we’ll miss seeing or acknowledging Him in whatever trials we face — past or present.

Wes had been experiencing pain in his shoulder and chest and so we went to the ER and once there, we learned that ER visits by patients with cardiac history are treated very seriously (Only now do I fully understand that phrase: “serious as a heart attack.” My daddy used to say that when someone would ask him: …are you serious? and he’d reply: “serious as a heart attack.” ). Once in ER, Wes was quickly set up in a room, hooked up to monitors and the first of many tests were performed. It was apparent to both of us that he hadn’t had another heart attack — but still, the source of the pain was not known. Probably not quite as concerned as those administering the prompt and thorough medical attention, we were still concerned enough to have gone there. The tests that would be performed through the night and the next afternoon were tests that would give answers to questions we have had for several months: how do we know if the stents are functioning properly? how do we know if the meds are ‘working’ and how do we know the actual condition of his heart?

In addition to an ECG, blood tests and constant monitoring, the Cardiologist ordered a myocardial perfusion scan that gave very clear pictures of the condition of his heart — both at rest and maximum stress. This test, because of the lengthy imaging process, took a couple of hours — but it was in that time period that the LORD demonstrated His lovingkindess so sweetly to me. I was sitting in a waiting area and Wes’s ♥ Cardiologist walked by and exclaimed to me, “Well, yours is an unexpected face for me to see here today! How is Wes?” I told her he was down in nuclear medicine getting having that test done and she told me she’d be right back. Interestingly, providentially, coincidentally ( the Lord meeting us where we’re at = the vertical meeting the horizontal +_ ) she was there making rounds for her current patients and said she wouldn’t ordinarily have been there at that time. When she returned, she assured me that everything looked good — there were some final tests to do and then he’d be free to go home.

How gracious of the LORD to have her there that day, to have her recognize me as she was passing by. The Cardiologist that was treating him all day was happy to defer to Dr. Chung. What an amazing Doctor she is… I have such great respect and love for her and thank the LORD for her professional skill – for her care and concern. The reports continued to come back and the results brought more delight to me us! No heart damage. Low BP. Low cholesterol… make that: Low, low cholesterol. His heart looks great, blood flow is great and stamina is great. The doc said to Wes, “Keep doing whatever you’re doing… this is good news.” I knew it was only bcz of The Good News.

It was getting late in the day and I knew all the children were anxious as anything to get going to the coast, but their concern and patience was so endearing as they repeatedly told me not to worry about a thing. It was now 12 hours past the time we had planned to leave. Wes was moved to another room where he continued to receive excellent care and monitoring. The time was ticking away. I thanked the LORD for the ‘inconvenience’ and for His great provision. When does anyone have time to go to the hospital, anyway? ;o)

Finally home again that evening, the faces that greeted us at the car never looked sweeter, and to Wes, I’m sure the shower never felt better… I know I never loved him more. Soon we were on our way. Skipping a few beats, the song was playing on. Everyone glad for papa’s health, glad to be going no matter what the hour, glad for the day…

One thing about driving through Seattle and then on through Tacoma and Olympia to Kelso and then over to the coast at night: traffic? what traffic? I could count on one hand the cars I saw in an hour. I thanked the LORD for His provision His protection and blessings… driving on very little sleep, I was singing all the way as everyone was sleeping… I had too much to sing about and it was, after all, the long anticipated trip! Every little while I would glance over to my precious husband… resting and looking so great. ♥ It had been a great day.

Blessings… many blessings in disguise.

blessings in disguise

teacup The longer I live, the more I am amazed at the Hand of Providence in my life and in the lives of our children and. in. my. husband’s. life. I’m sobered, humbled and stand in awe of the marvelous grace of God and His immeasurable kindness.

You know, I’m so thankful for the difficult times – for it’s not in the seemingly ‘easy’ times we see (or seek) God so readily or clearly as in the darker, more uncertain, times. The sweet thing about learning this is that when suddenly faced with calamity or trials it’s easier to see a testing of faith. I guess testings of faith are things we tend to want to avoid, but they’re the very things we will later see as sweet blessings — times we’ll later recall as ‘the best thing that ever happened to me’ sort of experiences. Blessings in disguise — that’s what most trials are.

Last Friday morning we had planned to head to the Oregon Coast for the annual Shield of Faith family conference at Twin Rocks. Thanks to our Hannah, plans were well underway; the van washed and vacuumed, filled with fuel and other necessary items for the eagerly anticipated long drive early the next morning. Our house was ship shape, top to bottom — everything neatly in place, the van completely packed and ready to go. Some sleeping in their ‘trip clothes,’ the children tucked all snug in their beds while visions of good friends, good food, singing, Bible teaching and beach play danced in their heads. We all snuggled into bed…

As we sat in the emergency room last Thursday night, I was consciously aware that the LORD had allowed the current ‘trail of my faith.’ It was one of those: ‘I’ve been this way before’ sort of moments and in those, ‘I’ve been this way before’ moments, because I saw the Hand of the LORD in the past, it’s easier to see His Hand in the present. I think if we miss seeing the Hand of the LORD in trials — or don’t acknowledge His presence, then it’s likely we’ll miss seeing or acknowledging Him in whatever trials we face — past or present.

Wes had been experiencing pain in his shoulder and chest and so we went to the ER and once there, we learned that ER visits by patients with cardiac history are treated very seriously (Only now do I fully understand that phrase: “serious as a heart attack.” My daddy used to say that when someone would ask him: …are you serious? and he’d reply: “serious as a heart attack.” ). Once in ER, Wes was quickly set up in a room, hooked up to monitors and the first of many tests were performed. It was apparent to both of us that he hadn’t had another heart attack — but still, the source of the pain was not known. Probably not quite as concerned as those administering the prompt and thorough medical attention, we were still concerned enough to have gone there. The tests that would be performed through the night and the next afternoon were tests that would give answers to questions we have had for several months: how do we know if the stents are functioning properly? how do we know if the meds are ‘working’ and how do we know the actual condition of his heart?

In addition to an ECG, blood tests and constant monitoring, the Cardiologist ordered a myocardial perfusion scan that gave very clear pictures of the condition of his heart — both at rest and maximum stress. This test, because of the lengthy imaging process, took a couple of hours — but it was in that time period that the LORD demonstrated His lovingkindess so sweetly to me. I was sitting in a waiting area and Wes’s ♥ Cardiologist walked by and exclaimed to me, “Well, yours is an unexpected face for me to see here today! How is Wes?” I told her he was down in nuclear medicine getting having that test done and she told me she’d be right back. Interestingly, providentially, coincidentally ( the Lord meeting us where we’re at = the vertical meeting the horizontal +_ ) she was there making rounds for her current patients and said she wouldn’t ordinarily have been there at that time. When she returned, she assured me that everything looked good — there were some final tests to do and then he’d be free to go home.

How gracious of the LORD to have her there that day, to have her recognize me as she was passing by. The Cardiologist that was treating him all day was happy to defer to Dr. Chung. What an amazing Doctor she is… I have such great respect and love for her and thank the LORD for her professional skill – for her care and concern. The reports continued to come back and the results brought more delight to me us! No heart damage. Low BP. Low cholesterol… make that: Low, low cholesterol. His heart looks great, blood flow is great and stamina is great. The doc said to Wes, “Keep doing whatever you’re doing… this is good news.” I knew it was only bcz of The Good News.

It was getting late in the day and I knew all the children were anxious as anything to get going to the coast, but their concern and patience was so endearing as they repeatedly told me not to worry about a thing. It was now 12 hours past the time we had planned to leave. Wes was moved to another room where he continued to receive excellent care and monitoring. The time was ticking away. I thanked the LORD for the ‘inconvenience’ and for His great provision. When does anyone have time to go to the hospital, anyway? ;o)

Finally home again that evening, the faces that greeted us at the car never looked sweeter, and to Wes, I’m sure the shower never felt better… I know I never loved him more. Soon we were on our way. Skipping a few beats, the song was playing on. Everyone glad for papa’s health, glad to be going no matter what the hour, glad for the day…

One thing about driving through Seattle and then on through Tacoma and Olympia to Kelso and then over to the coast at night: traffic? what traffic? I could count on one hand the cars I saw in an hour. I thanked the LORD for His provision His protection and blessings… driving on very little sleep, I was singing all the way as everyone was sleeping… I had too much to sing about and it was, after all, the long anticipated trip! Every little while I would glance over to my precious husband… resting and looking so great. ♥ It had been a great day.

Blessings… many blessings in disguise.

About that lingering conversation?

Well… about that lingering conversation, I thought I’d add a few lines.

I know there will come a time when I stop writing about our current “lingering conversation.” I know we’ll likely move on to other things. But I write about them — and whatever else I write about — for lots of different reasons. Mostly, I just don’t want to forget – and I know I will forget some of the small details of these days. Blogging’s sort of therapeutic for me. I don’t want to forget what God’s taught me, how He’s worked in these days, what’s going on and what I think of it all these days. I blog so that I will have a place to recall… I blog so that maybe someone else will be encouraged with things that have encouraged me. There’s a risk involved in sharing the personal details of life and I know that. There’s probably as much a risk of being understood as being misunderstood. There’s a risk to being transparent, but this is who I am… and this where I share slices of my life, and maybe something I write might help someone else too. So… I blog.

Wes had an appointment with the cardiologist today. It’s been a few weeks since we saw her and so we went through a time of sort of dialogging questions and answers. She gave Wes strong assurances that he could go back to normal work and any activities… even training for a marathon. We glanced at one another and smiled.

True story: On the way to the doc’s office, Wes said he wanted to ask what he would be free to do, what are his limitations, etc. and then said, ” It’s not like I am going to train for a marathon or anything like that… I just want to be able to do whatever the day requires.” ~smile~

So she answered Wes’s questions and gave strong rationale for the prescribing of each of the meds he is taking. And even humoured him when he questioned the validity of some of the rationales for the meds. But he agreed to take them – and to continue taking them. What was interesting to me was her favourable comments regarding some of the things he had begun taking (fish oil, green food, red yeast rice) and in particular: red yeast rice. She said there were many studies showing very favourable results from taking red yeast rice. And she went on to share some benefits. (Our sincere thanks to Kelli for her studying up on heart stuff – and more – for us!)

I had suggested to Wes that he not eat b’fast just in case they wanted to do some tests. When he was told they’d need some lab work, they asked if he had eaten yet today. O, so glad he hadn’t! He hasn’t gotten the lab results from the ekg or blood work but it seems quite certain that had there been a problem he’d have heard about it.

So we left the office… with sort of glad sense of relief… sort of with a sense of new resolve: now we go on. We needed this – or we needed what we’ve learned from this. And it’s one of those bittersweets… you know, one of those things you come to terms with and as the doctor said this morning, it’s a time of mourning the loss of “where you thought you were and what you thought you had.”

I’ve gotten to the place where I am thankful… and I can see I needed these lessons. I very much needed them. It was as if I was given a gift that day in the hospital as I waited for him in surgery. I remember sitting in a waiting room in that same hospital ten years ago when Wes cut up his hand in a skilsaw and underwent several hours of reconstructive surgery… I remember the lessons learned at that time and how God demonstrated His merciful lovingkindness and abundant provision for me/us.

Well… so now I needed to learn new lessons… not lessons so much about God’s faithful provision and physical restoration and His protection of my husband as I needed to meet his mortality. Now I may well still go before he does, but I needed to come to grips with the fact there will be an end. And I needed to affirm that I know that I know that I know God is sovereign. I knew it… I’ve known it… but I needed to know it in this matter of love and life and my love’s life. I needed to come to grips with the fact that God’s way in the life and eventual death of my husband is perfect.

I will praise thee, O LORD,
with my whole heart;
I will shew forth all thy marvellous works.
psalm 9.1

Our lingering conversations…

So… we seem to have a lingering conversation around here. When my husband comes in the room or we end up standing around in our kitchen… it’s as if we just continue this ongoing conversation… a conversation that sort of lingers in our minds day after day — now, week after week.A neon green appointment card is attached to a sheet of paper that hangs on the clip by the back door. That clip has always been there and holds whatever needs to go out to the mail box or it occasionally holds a check for a delivery or, now, it holds appointment cards. For the c-a-r-d-i-o-l-o-g-i-s-t. I know, I know… soon this will be ‘old hat’ and we’ll move on. This, as do most other ‘big deals’ in our family, will soon be as ‘normal’ to us as other things that are part of normal, everyday living. But for now, all this cardiology stuff is not normal, everyday living to us. Actually, I think I subconsciously believe that pretty soon all this will be over and things will go back to the way they were (whatever that was!).

Isn’t it interesting that we think we’re strong in the Lord – that we trust Him implicitly, that we leave everything in God’s capable hands and yet… well, and yet we don’t, do we? We intend to be faithful: honouring God in all we think, say, and do and yet, when life doesn’t turn out the way we thought it would, we falter.

I have been thinking about this a lot lately. I’ve been thinking of the way I always thought things would be… the way I thought things would end up. And things aren’t or haven’t quite turned out that way.

Eight years ago today was my father’s funeral service. I would have thought I’d have my father a long, long time. I thought things would have ended differently than they did. But they didn’t. I remember standing there at his service… I was giving a message that I hoped would both honour him and honour the Lord. I spoke of his life, his death and eternal life in heaven. No doubt there were people present who knew the gospel message but had never trusted Jesus as Lord. No doubt there were people there that day who still do not trust Jesus as Lord. God knows. I just knew I had a small window of opportunity to share the gospel, to share of God’s love and eternal purpose for man and to succinctly present the gospel message: the gift of salvation and eternal life in Jesus.

That salvation is all the more precious to me as the years pass… especially years in which things turned out differently than I thought they would.

Our lingering conversations… what would you want me to do with ____________ ?

Three weeks ago, when my husband had a heart attack, it was such a surprising thing — surreal, almost. I thought it was such an odd thing that had occurred — like something in a movie, like something in older relatives’ lives, not something in my life — not something in my husband’s life. Something for older women… not for me. I never would have thought that this is the way things would turn out. I guess I actually thought my husband was invincible and that he would live on much longer than I will. And that may well still be the case… but somehow, now, I think not.

So, when things don’t turn out the way we thought they would, what do we do then?

You know what I’ve been thinking? Praise God. Praise God that He does not tell us in advance the things we have in our future. Praise His marvelous name that we do not know, in advance, the way He has planned for us. Would we love Him? Would we trust Him? Would we praise Him?

What do we do when things don’t turn out the way we thought they would? Well… I’ve been mulling this thought over and over. This is a lonely time. And now I see this sort of thing’s been lonely for several of my friends at other points in their lives. And I missed it. I overlooked their plight. It’s not a Joni Mitchell: “Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone,” sort of time, but rather, it’s a lonely time – a no one knows/cares/understands what I’m going through sort of time. It’s a very personal sort of time; an “Omygoodness, my husband could have died and life as I knew it could have been over” sort of time. And only other women who’ve experienced the same thing can understand. And it’s a: wow, is life so over when it’s over –or– wow, is life so different when it’s different, sort of thing!!

So we have this lingering conversation. Wes walks into the room and another sentence is spoken. “By the way, _____________.

I come home and I say, I’ve been thinking…. if… well, if things go that way, then what should I do about ________________?

Day after day, sentences begin – with no introduction.

“Okay, so if _________, then what I will do is____________ and I will not________ and I will call_______ . Okay. No, I don’t want to get married to anyone else. No. I don’t want to think about___________ . Yes…. I will do that. Yes… I know, I will wait to do that. No, I don’t want to sleep with anyone else. Let’s forget all this happened. No, I will not change my mind.

A day passes… the conversation lingers.

“I have been with you longer than my whole adult life… and everything that’s happened to me has happened with you. I do not want to be alone to face the remainder of whatever’s going to happen to me and the children. And the conversation lingers…

He stands at the sink. “Her father had his first heart attack when she was six… the conversation lingers.

He stands at the cabinet. One bottle lid pops off, then another and another and so on until all the meds are in hand. Wow. What a difference a day makes. Into my once very ordered, very secure, very sure world… has come amber bottles with foreign names and expiration dates and warnings… Strange, what a difference a day makes.

The lingering conversations. Day after day.

“I want the older boys to know I’m proud of them.

The conversation lingers.

“I’ll always love you.

O, for heaven.

Whither Thou Goest

Inscribed on our wedding invitation and sung at our wedding were the words (from the Book of Ruth): “Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thess: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God, my God: Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the LORD do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.”

Well… those are the thoughts behind my words: “Whatever you want to do… that’s what I want to do.” I’m saying them a lot these days – and I mean the words like never before.

Though I have probably said those words a thousand times, I’m wondering: have I really and truly always meant them? In times past, I said them, but I’m wondering if the: ‘whatever you want to do, I want to do’ was sort of a qualified, ‘whatever you want to do – I might want to do.’ I am wondering theses days if I actually, more accurately meant: you can tell me whatever you want to do and I will go along with that plan… but I will also work to adjust it around my previously arranged plans. So, it was more: Whatever you want to do, I’ll probably go along with it – unless I get sidetracked or unless I forget or unless it doesn’t really work out for me or whatever.

I have strongly intended to follow him wherever he leads, to follow his lead -seriously. Day by day, through our whole marriage, I have sought to honour him in word AND in deed. But as I’ve inferred a few times in the last several entries: there’s nothing like a wake up call to turn the world upside down or totally rearrange the pieces on the game board… maybe, in reality, to show that the game is further along than you thought — that, literally, you’ve lost some pieces or some points and now have to change your whole strategy and game plan. Or get one.

I’ve been mulling over lots of things. Lots of things that seemed to matter: don’t. Lots of things that seemed to need attention: don’t. Lots of things I wanted to say or do really don’t matter all that much. When it all comes down to it, there’s really not a whole lot that matters a whole lot.

When it all comes down to it, here’s what matters:

Are you right with Jesus?

Is there any unfinished business in your life?

Are there some things you need to do today? Words you need to say today? Forgiveness you need to seek today? Forgiveness you need to offer today. Really…

The possibility of walking through the rest of my days alone has really abruptly assaulted and altered my thinking. I know my husband loves me – cares about everything that concerns me and seeks my best interest. I wonder if I have, by my actions when I am reluctant to do this or that thing, or to go to this or that place, questioned his judgment – questioned his love? So I’ve been asking the LORD to work in me – through me – to say and mean the words I say to my husband. I want the literal words of my mouth, the meditation of my heart and the intent of my actions to be: whatever you want to do.. . that’s what I want to do.

My husband and I took a long drive yesterday and talked. And talked. We talked about things we’ve only brushed the surface on in years past. I don’t know when we would have started talking about life and health and death, but here we are… talking about it all now.

So, I’ve been reflecting on the passage in a whole new light. I want the “whither thou goest, I will go” to be: whither thou goest, I *want* to go and I will go. Hand in hand with the Proverbs passage, “She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.” a sure foundation, or mandate for wives, can be seen. Doing him good… what can I do, what can I say, where can I go that will: do him good?

Words…

teacup You know how you hear words over and over and they are so common you don’t even really stop to consider their profound meaning? I mean, I recall for many years my mother in law or my father in law would comment about their cardiologist or my mom mentioned her surgeon or my dad mentioned his oncologist… words. Merely common words.

I was talking on the telephone last evening with a friend of mine… the friend whose husband just died and she was asking me for the specifics of what has happened around here this week. So I sort of rattled off statements that were interspersed with old vocabulary words that have now become part of my every day speech. She said… wait, can you believe you said, “Wes’s cardiologist?” And I laughed. It was nervous laughter that became this morning’s tears. I was hugging my husband, my head resting on his heart, and I cried at the events of the week. There’s time for crying now. There’s no time for tears when the activities call for action and attention. There’s no time for crying when the responsibilities call for attention and clear thought. But this morning called for neither—nothing but hugs and praise. And the words that have been so easily rolling off my tongue sort of all got caught in my throat today and my mind was sort of in a blur and I gasped as I realized: what the heck? my *husband* has a cardiologist?

I have this little shelf beside my sink above the bathroom counter. It’s become my habit every night to set my glasses on the shelf, to put my bracelet on the hook and my hair clips next to my glasses. That little shelf is now lined with bottles… not pretty perfume bottles, but amber coloured bottles with with my husband’s name and… c-a-r-d-i-o-l-o-g-i-s-t-‘s name on them. More words. As probable as it was for my husband to travel this path and hit this part of the road, I was completely unprepared for personal use of words that I was fairly accustomed to hearing… in other’s lives. Other husband’s lives. Other’s homes.

My husband(!) carries nitroglycerin now. Nitro’s… you know, little pills old people carry with them to relieve the symptoms of angina. Angina!?! When did that word become part of my husband’s lingo? It’s so bizarre to even consider let alone realize that we’ve entered the world of statins, ACE inhibitors, Beta blockers, blood thinners; the segment of the population for whom all sorts of acronyms and initials describe their own personal medical conditions and history. MI and CA stents now appear on my husband’s medical records and that he now carries a card in his wallet that has a bar code on it… id-ing him as a cardiology patient – a card that can be referenced the next time… I blink. The next time?

Those words… myocardial infarction… still ring in my ears. I still marvel that I sat in that waiting room and talked with the doctor and answered his questions. How long had my husband had heart disease? A myocardial infarct was his first sign. For too many people those words are their first sign of heart disease, too.

How I praise the Lord I was able to talk with the cardiologist after the successful procedure was completed. I sobered up real fast when he said that if Wes hadn’t come in when he did and hadn’t begun that heparin and nitroglycerin that he may well have suffered a massive heart attack and the outcome might not have been favourable. I read just today of yet another man whose first sign of cardiovascular disease was a fatal MI.

The warning signs were all around. We read them… the were common words. Those words became sirens… we’re so listening now.

The Heart of Her Husband…

Safely trusts in her…

I ponder this verse over and over. The heart of my husband safely trusts in me. Safely trusts. His heart safely trusts. In me. Wow… this has been on my mind and in my teaching for years. I have always focused on what I considered to be heart issues. And if/when things seemed out of balance, I have gone back to the heart issues… am I ministering to him, to his needs, to his well being and comfort. Am I trustworthy, have I been faithful, am I attentive to the cares and concerns of his life? Am I listening to him? Do I *hear* what he is saying? Am I sexually attentive and interested in him and do I make sure he knows it? Does he know I think he’s totally “all that!“? Does he have my attention and admiration? Do I split loyalties? Am I behind his back what I am to his face? Does he know I’m not looking around? Am I concerned with his plans and do I pay attention to his conversations? These have all been key factors or key components of what I consider to be a faithful wife—these are things that have been key to me all these years—it’s been of paramount importance that my husband’s heart safely trusts in me. I love him.

All these years I have been practically and literally loving him to death.

Sobering.

I love to cook; and I can make great awful food. And I have, all these years.

I know that it might seem I’m making too much over this weeks turn of events or am attempting to shoulder all the responsibility for the food my husband has swallowed. I know I have been making stuff he likes. And lots of it. And all along the way I’ve also made some great things that have been very, very good for him. This isn’t a total guilt trip. He’s made some changes in recent years and some radical changes in recent months. So I know that his eating – our eating is sort of a shared responsibility. I know I didn’t make all the donuts and didn’t pour all the coffee and didn’t stack the hamburgers or salt the fries. And I know I wasn’t the one to make the firm decision some months back to eliminate those foods from his diet. But I also know that I know how to make a heart stopping cinnamon roll. I know how to make heart stopping lasagne and stroganoff. Great salads have accompanied all those meals. Lots of vegetables accompanied those meals. Lots of butter, too. I know how to add just the right amount of salt and fat to make even a purist want another bite. This is not bragging. I’m not altogether proud of this today. But I’m not going to jump off the bridge over it, though, either. But I am waking up.

Eight years ago this morning, my father didn’t. A million pounds of butter, thousands of gallons of cream, tons of steak and buckets of sugar paved the road to heaven for him. I thought about that a lot at that time. I cried over the many years I didn’t know him. I cried over the things I didn’t learn from him (and maybe that’s for the better ~wink~). Even made some major changes in my eating habits at that time. And then some months passed. And then some years passed… I perfected some more to-die-~~over~~-for meals. And here I am this morning… knowing that I have played an integral part in my husband’s overall health (and/or lack thereof). I picked up the groceries and turned them into meals and desserts. I knew what he loved and made sure to serve it to him. And joined him.

The party’s not over… we’ve just got to change the venue a bit for both of us. Quite a bit. I don’t really know specifically and exactly what I’ll do… or what I won’t do, but I’m making some practical changes;

The heart of my husband (trusts in me) depends on it. I love him. I love his heart. I want to be around to show him that.

Cholesterol Awareness…

Did you know that September is “Cholesterol Awareness Month”? O, yeah, I’m aware!

The service mark for the American Heart Association is: Learn and Live. I mull this over. I’m mulling over a lot of things lately. You know I realized tonight that I never thought my husband could/would/might die. Really… ever. I’m fairly sure I’ve been thinking it would be me to go first – still probably will be, by the way, though I’ve known there was a very strong possibility that my husband would have a heart attack or stroke or both. In fact, if he followed family health patterns, a heart attack was absolutely, positively guaranteed to happen. It happened.

Since heart disease is common on both sides of both of our families, it was actually quite foolish for me to continue cooking and serving in the manner I have for the last nearly 30 years. I’m troubled tonight by the fact that I have been pretty cavalier about health and food preparation and serving. O, I’ve been working at many healthful choices… but that really doesn’t mean much when there are an equal number of very unhealthy choices made, prepared and presented every day. I’ll write more on this another time.

There’s nothing like a brush with something to force action. It doesn’t matter what it is, when you have a brush with something, you act – or react. You get stopped by an officer for speeding — and if you only get a warning, in the future you watch your driving around officers. If you get a ticket, you watch your driving around speed traps. If you get a substantial fine, you not only watch for officers and speed traps, you watch your own actions… prevention. Same with cooking without instructions or putting together “some assembly required” objects… ruin things a few times and you begin to realize there must be some value in following instructions and that instructions do serve a vital purpose.

So, learn and live.

This isn’t going to be a new nauseating mantra, but we do need to make some more changes. The last thing I (or my husband) want to do is to become an annoying clanging cymbal… you know the clanging symbol or the noise of the newly reformed. Well, and especially since we’ve got so far to go and have a pretty pitiful reputation of making some rather unhealthy food choices. I mean, I’m pretty sure a Starbucks grande mocha isn’t on the ‘heart healthy’ menu. Or peanut M&M’s, either.

If you’ve got risk factors, you’ve got a few choices. Actually, you’ve got few choices. Do nothing; wait and see what happens — but actually you’ll likely make one of two choices. The first is to be faithful, live well, eat well, exercise well, sleep well, work at reducing stress and inflammation and then see what happens in your healthy so-far-as-it-depends-on-you life — or, live poorly, don’t eat well, don’t exercise, don’t sleep well, don’t seek to reduce stress and inflammation and watch the mounting unintended consequences of an unhealthy life take you in directions you would never have imagined.

Yesterday as I sat in the waiting room –that first meeting of the new club I’d just joined, I listened to a surgeon tell me to help my husband. He then went on to tell me my husband needed to do three things:

diet, exercise and eliminate stress.”

I was sort of glad I had left my coffee cup in the room where I’d been waiting previously. I’d ordered it from the coffee stand in the hospital lobby. “Whipped cream on that?” “No, thank you… my husband just had a heart attack.” I was thinking… I need to turn over a new leaf. Well, actually I need to dig up a whole big tree.