Few people want to be reminded of their limitations. I am among that number. But, last Thursday, July 26th, I got a clear, unfiltered reminder of Nature’s indifference to my plans and schemes. If you read the post regarding healthcare and the VA, then you know that I have been trying to get on the government tit for my medications and for treatment of a couple of conditions. Last Wednesday, the skies parted, angels began singing, and sunrays filled the air when I got the call from VA to be in their clinic the next morning at 10 am. I was excited. Thursday morning, I rose early, went through my normal routines quickly and with a renewed sense of purpose since in just a couple of hours I would sneak back into the tent for the healthcare show. It is 55 miles from my house to the VA clinic at Tuskegee. Before I had driven ten miles, my left arm began to ache. A few miles later, I broke into a sweat. Further down the road, I became sick to my stomach. By the time I got to Gold Hill, about half way, I was in full form heart attack mode. I stopped at the convenience store in Gold Hill to purchase two aspirin (325 mg) and throw up beside the truck. I arrived at the clinic ten minutes before my scheduled appointment. The clerk gave me directions to the third floor lab to which I walked. Arriving at the lab, I signed in and told the lady at the desk that “I am not trying to be dramatic but I am having a heart attack.” At that point, things got a little confusing for me. The lady to whom I spoke, Cheryl, marshaled forces to confront the enemy. Within minutes, I was surrounded by an array of lifesavers, all the time feeling Cheryl holding my hand and talking to me. At one point, I remember her saying to me, “Tom, your eyes are glazing over.” To which I responded, “My eyes always glaze over when I see pretty women.” A brilliant repartee, if I don’t mind saying so myself. A tough VA physician, Dr. Audrey Hodges, took immediate control of the rescue mission by barking orders while at the same time arranging my transfer to East Alabama Med Center at Auburn. At one point, I “coded” which is ER talk for damn near dying. All the time, there was Cheryl holding my hand and talking to me, saving my life. Within minutes of arriving at the medical center in Auburn via ambulance, I was in the heart catherization lab. A mechanical balloon was installed in my heart, and I was sent to the ICU. Two days later, back in the cath lab for removal of the balloon and angioplasty of a 100% blockage in one artery and a 89% in another. Back to the ICU then finally to the cardiac step down unit for two days. I was released on Tuesday. I am a miracle of modern medicine.
My brother, Tinker and his partner, Theresa, took immediate control of my farm responsibilities. WitchWoman flew in from Kansas City, arriving a matter of hours after I landed in the ICU. My little girl, Grace, drove in from New Orleans. The folks at ASAN have been generous with their concern and good wishes. Folks at St. Barnabas visited, called and emailed to express their concern. Old buds now have another chapter to add to our collective histories.
I am still the flawed human I was last Thursday before all of this. But, surviving a heart attack leaves me with some sober realities that generally fall into the category of a “man knowing his limitations.” I am unsure what my role will be in ASAN from here on. I don’t think I can continue the farm operation. How does WitchWoman fit into the picture? What about my Dad? I want to spend some time thinking on how I will live whatever time I have left? To work through some of these issues, I am taking refuge in Kansas City with WitchWoman for a while. I’ll just have to figure out what is next.
