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My Heart Attack
One Was Enough!

I had not worked for a year or more. I was so tired, run down and suffering from a truly broken heart.  My ex, of course denies any involvement.  She is right, of course.  I accept the blame for everything, these days.  

It all started with a strange feeling in my chest, sort of felt the same as the water hose in one's hands as they bend it in half cutting off the flow of water and release it restoring the flow of water. It did not hurt and I had no trouble breathing. It just felt strange and I decided To go the VA Hospital   and have them check it. Fearing they might keep me for observation and that I would not get fed, I had my neighbor (who was giving me a ride there) stop and let me get a couple of donuts. Of course, I smoked too. My skin was cold, clammy because I was sweating and I am told appeared gray.

When I got to the Hospital, it still was not bad. I had no Idea that I was about to die nor of the pain soon to come.

They took my name and information. I sat and waited for a nurse to call me and take my vital stats. The strange feeling would come and go in strength.

Finally I was called, she started with my blood pressure. I never have had high blood pressure and have had it checked often at the VA Hospital.

Then while she was taking my blood pressure, it started to hurt. I told her and she did not say much. Before she had finished it had started to hurt really bad.  The feeling was as if my arms were being held by a couple of guys and I was being beaten on the inside by a heavy weight boxer. I started to scream, over and over, make it stop, damn it, make it stop hurting.  finally it dawned on her that I was in trouble. Must have taken all of 5 or 6 seconds for her to respond, seemed like minutes to me though.

I was being placed upon some kind of bed on wheels and being moved and the pain did not let up. Instead it got worse.

I cannot describe that pain, except to say, It was worse than bad. I never had ever hurt that much. Not the times I was beaten, not the time I was stabbed, not ever before had I hurt that much.

Finally, my eyes closed, I said to my self, "I can't take this any more. I'm outta here." Then, I did a back flip and jumped out of my body, of my own free will.

I was no longer here on this earth, in this reality. I found myself some where/when else that was bright, yellow, and good. It felt familiar, I felt normal, except that I experienced a pleasure in being where I was that cannot be put into words.  I will not even try to explain the experience. I will say this much, the memory of how I felt has faded. I know it was beyond what could ever be experienced here.

The memory had to fade or I would want to be there and have taken my life to return; By the way:  For the record, this was not a near death experince.  It was a Death Experience.  I say this because some try to tell me what I experienced.  How could they know?  They were not there.  Only I am capable of describing what I experienced.

Needless to say, I came back. A doctor was there over me asking me if I was OK. I guess I had been gone all of 2 to 5 seconds but it seemed like eternity.

He chewed me out, saying I should have called 911, that I should have went to the nearest emergency room. That 9 out of 10 men who have this kind of heart attack do not live thru it. That the only reason I was alive was because he was the doctor on duty, a cardiologist, who happened to have the meds in his pocket to save me.

I never told him what I had experienced nor how pissed off I was at him for having brought me back,

He proceeded to puncture an artery in my neck and run a wire in it to my heart to use as a pacemaker connection and to check me into the hospital to stay.

I was right, they did not feed me. I had to wait till the next day before I got anything to eat.

They kept me here in the Fresno VA Hospital for about 15 days. Then they placed me into an ambulance and transported me to the San Francisco VA Hospital for treatment.  I was told that they were going to use a balloon to open my arteries.

I was sent to San Francisco, because the earth quake had destroyed the Hospital at Palo Alto, California.

In San Francisco, the doctors informed me that my arteries were blocked pretty bad.   That Three arteries were blocked close to 99% and that one had blood flow of about one blood cell at a time thru the blocked area.

Further, they informed me that the blockage was bad and it would not be save to use the balloon thing to open them that they felt bi-pass surgery would be the only thing that would keep me alive.

They said they would come back later and discuss this with me.

Three days later, at 11:00 p. m. they had not shown up and the operation was due the next morning. I had left word with the nurse to tell them that if they did not show up that nite, I was going to walk out of the Hospital. They showed up.

Needless to say, I was not in the best shape, emotionally. I had been shown others who had just had the operation and all of that.

Any way, The doctors showed up, they gave me a lot of papers to sign. I took the time and read every word before I signed them. What it boiled down to, was that the operation was still experimental, and that it was more than possible that I might die from it.   The doctors explained that there was no doubt in their minds that I would die without the operation.

I had a very hard decision to make. I had to let someone else be in total charge of me. I had to submit myself and whether I live or die into their hands.

It was not easy for me to sign those papers. I had to over come a fear I did not know I had inside of me. I have faced danger in the past and even almost certain death in the past.  The difference this time was that it was not in my hands; That it would be in some other human being's hands. I have never had a problem in the past standing up to fear.  

All I did was place things in the Hands of God and then go do what I had to do. I finally figured out that this was much the same. So, I placed the matter in the Hands of God, told the doctors, "OK", and then demanded that they give me a shot of morphine so that I would remain calm and not change my mind and leave. They did not hesitate. I got the morphine as I was signing papers.

I lay in the hospital and a catholic priest came by. I asked for last rights and he informed me that the catholic church did not do this any more. Second time I had been informed of this. In Fresno, I had been told the same. I asked that a protestant preacher be sent to me. Him I let pray with me. I was so high on the morphine, they kept it coming and after he left I was singing to myself as they shaved my body bare.  I was aware enough to ask that my back not be shaved. The girl or guy (not sure what that person was) doing it, said they would leave my back unshaved.

I woke up, I think for a few seconds after the operation and then went back under.

Finally I woke up and there I was. My arms tied down, a plastic tube in my throat with a machine breathing for me, and then I felt the pain. A pair of nurses were there with me. For 2 days I found out what it felt like to be a helpless baby.

They washed my body, kept the airway clear, gave me an injection of morphine any time I felt the slightest pain. The nurses changed every 12 hours.

On the 7th day, I was given a ticket to ride a plane home, and put into a taxi cab and sent to the airport. A taxi was there to pick me up at the Airport in Fresno and took me to the VA Hospital here in Fresno. I was sent home that day with a pocket full of pain pills.  

That is the story of my Heart Attack.

A few months later, my arteries were blocked again.   I was found to be unemployable and put on a VA Pension.

Some one forgot to inform me of the deep depression that I would soon experience and the emotional turmoil that I would have to endure.  

I have, to date, had a triple bi-pass operation, an angioplasty, a stroke or two, started to have seizures and wanted to die or be dead quite often. That woman has pushed me beyond the limits.    

You may laugh.  You may not believe.  It does not matter.

I have experienced moments, emotional moments, where I could endure no longer.   I lay on the sofa, closed my eyes, I call out, and felt myself be taken up and held like a child by Angels of The Lord.  Peace engulfed me and my soul was made calm.  I slept that most peaceful sleep.  I see them often, out of the corners of my eyes.  I feel their presence daily.  I am no saint, by any means, I am sure.    

The story still unfolds and the adventure continues.  What more can I say.  

Some very thoughtful person sent this to me.
I share it with you.

Under Her Wings"

After a forest fire in Yellowstone National Part, forest rangers began their trek up a mountain to assess the inferno's damage.   One ranger found a bird literally petrified in ashes, perched statuesquely on the ground at the base of a tree.  

Somewhat sickened by the eerie sight, he knocked over the bird with a stick. When he struck it, three tiny chicks scurried from under their dead mothers wings, instinctively knowing that the toxic smoke would rise. She could have flown to safety but had refused to abandon her babies.

When the blaze had arrived and the heat had scorched her small body, the mother had remained steadfast.   Because she had been willing to die, those under the cover of her wings would live.

"He will cover you with his feathers and
under his wings you will find refuge... (psalms 91:4)"

Being loved this much should make a difference in your life. Remember God is The One who loves you and then be different because of it."

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