Tag: open-heart surgery

HIDDEN TREASURE 🤑

Last post we spoke of finding the miracles in our ordinary lives. It is a lesson that is too easy to forget. I must confess, I often fail to see these miracles. It is about this time that my mood seems to falter. As soon as I express gratitude for these miracles, my level of joy and inner peace begins to climb once again. When you recognize the truly miraculous events that have to take place for your life to move on as it does, you will really raise your vibration and be filled with more joy and inner peace than you have in your life up to that point.

Does this sound like a bunch of hype? Maybe your life at this moment seems far from a miracle? Here is the very important part about miracles. Pay attention now, I really don’t want anyone to miss this. Miracles are rarely, if ever, linear. What this means is that you often cannot witness the miracle in short-term. When you look back, do you know what you discover? Treasure beyond your wildest dreams. Here is another very important thing to remember. If you do not look for the treasure, you will never find it. Although right in front of you, it will remain hidden to you.

Allow me to explain this further by way of a personal example. Many of you know that I went through open-heart surgery and died, albeit briefly. When asked about what I gained out of that experience, many people go for the obvious. They assume, correctly I might add, that I gained a new appreciation for my mortality and how fleeting life is. There was so much more than that. When I look back on the experience, there are so many miracles that had to fall in line for me to be sharing this information with you today.

It all began with my trip to the gym. I had been doing cross fit and was in arguably the best shape of my life. This particular day I was on a cross trainer machine and feeling good. I was full of energy. I just happened to look down and see the heart rate. It read 222. Normal for my age was 93-150. On past occasions, I would have just ignored that number and went on exercising. I am not always the smartest when it comes to listening to my body. This day I decided to call someone. The doctor? No. My lovely Margie. She immediately chastised me for continuing to exercise and insisted I did call the doctor. This I did on the drive home from the gym. Those in the medical profession, who were a lot smarter than yours truly, insisted I go directly to the hospital, but not drive myself. This was ironic as this conversation occurred while I was driving.

That trip in the hospital shed light on the fact I had a deformed heart valve. I was born with this, but nobody in the 43 years prior had shared such information with me. I was also enlightened to the fact that I had a aneurism. As I told the doctor, “This information has never come across my desk.” It was not large enough to require surgery, but needed monitoring. If it were to rupture, it could impact my life negatively, by…well…ending it. This was in 2018. For the next 3 years I had checkups twice a year. They all ended the same way. “You are messed up, but not any more messed up than you were when you were initially messed up.” This diagnosis was always followed with the requirement to pay a hefty $2000. Needless to say, I stopped going for these checkups.

Part of the treatment for the last 3 years was to put me on a ‘just in case’ medicine. This wonderful medicine made me have slightly more energy than a sloth after dinner. When picking up a refill, I happened to mention this to the pharmacist. She looked at the dose and suggested I ask the doctor to reduce it. I pulled out my phone right there and gave the good doctor a call. His response was in order to get a reduction in dose, I must return to receiving the checkups. I thought this was useless, but to avoid being cast as a sloth in the next Disney production, I agreed.

The test was the following week. I was informed the doctor would call me with the results in a few days. When the doctor did call, I happen to be leaving the gym once again. I was expecting the usual diagnosis of ‘no change’. What I heard next surprised me quite a bit. “I think it is time for surgery.” It would appear since my last examination, I had passed the threshold for surgery. By quite a margin I might add.

Going through that open-heart surgery, and all the challenges that went with it, had me feeling in pain more than grateful. Upon reflection, there were so many miracles that had taken place to get me where I am today. Being on a machine that took my heart rate. Deciding not to be a knucklehead and get that checked out. Having the pharmacist suggest I call my doctor to get my medicine reduced. Having the doctor insist to another exam before doing so. If any one of these things had not happened, my aneurism may have burst, and my trip to the great beyond would have been a permanent change of address.

How about in your own life? Can you think about cases where situations came together just right to allow everything to come together? These are life’s miracles. Let me assure you that all of our lives have them. It is up to us to notice them and be grateful for them. It is then that the treasure appears. It may not be gold and jewels, but it is a sense of inner peace, joy and gratitude that will radically transform your life more than mere money ever could.

LOOKING BACK…❤️

This was me a year ago. Ok, a little less than a year ago. January 12 of last year. Shortly out of open-heart surgery and after a brief flirtation with death. Notice the tube coming out of my neck. I think that makes me look like a tough guy. The whole thing seems like a distant dream at this point. There are a few lingering effects, but I am getting better every day.

What I want to talk about today was what did change. Shockingly, not a lot. At least not right away. In reflection, this is what shocks me, it took a while for changes to occur. You would think waking up in the operating room after open-heart surgery, knowing you briefly passed on, and then going through some crazy rehab would have you walking out of the hospital a different man. Nope.

Here is what I did notice. A lot changed before my surgery and near death experience. The humorous part about that was that I didn’t realize these changes until well after my surgery was over. A lot came to my attention while writing my journey in my third book, The Beat Goes On. As I was writing about a visit to the movies with Margie only 2 months prior, I realized my focus had changed. I was facing a possibility of a dramatic change in life situation and my thought was what I would leave behind if I did not make it. Not what did I want to eat, where I wanted to go or things I wanted to do. No, what was really emotionally pressing as I was facing possible death, was making sure the people that I loved knew that I loved them and what legacy I was going to leave behind.

The picture above is an example of that. It was the last picture Margie and I took before I walked out the door to go to the hospital. I wanted one last picture. It wasn’t that I was even attempting to be noble. It was the thought that if I died, would it have mattered that I made one more trip to the Nite Owl for a hamburger? I would be dead. Wouldn’t even able to talk about it. Unless of course you can come back and haunt people and let them know where to eat the best burgers in town. I realized if I wanted to be immortal, that would depend on what I left behind and not what I took with me. It reminded me of a great quote I heard from the actor Denzel Washington, “You never see a U-Haul behind a hearse.” It is not what you take with you, but what you leave behind. While I was feeling all of these emotions (As you can read in The Beat Goes On) I wasn’t aware of why I was feeling them. It wasn’t until I was writing and reflecting that this truth came to light.

While I was going through this whole life-changing event, I did not fully grasp the magnitude of what was transpiring. I was still the goofy author who found humor in what was going on around me. Like this sign warning people not to put their hands in the toilet. I was not aware this was a temptation that had to be fought. Good to know that one could get injured that way, I suppose. Nicole, my favorite nurse that I had, warned me that I would be more emotional after the procedure. I did not feel much different until after I left the hospital. I recall wanting to go to Panera for lunch before going home. I love their hazelnut coffee. I recall sitting in front of my protein bowl looking around at the other people in the restaurant, including Margie and my mother, and thinking that somehow I was now different. I had the experience of slipping through the great beyond. Gleefully, that was temporary. Still, I felt like a foreigner in the world. Very hard to explain.

Looking back, I am sure there will be more lessons that will come to me. Even such a traumatic experience as heart surgery and death do not always give you the lessons right away. In my second book, Living the Dream, I wrote about lessons I was still learning from my Grandfather who has been gone quite some time. Life is like that. This is why it is so important to give yourself time to reflect and just think. This is also why sharing your story, whether that is in a book or blog for the world to learn from, or just in a journal for your own private use. There is something magical that happens when you put pen to paper. Lessons you never knew that you learned suddenly leap from the pages. I would love to hear some of the lessons you have learned in life after reflecting.

CLICK HERE TO PICK UP YOUR COPY OF “THE BEAT GOES ON”❤️

COMPARE AND BE GRATEFUL

Recently, much to my dismay, I found myself back in the hospital. I began experiencing severe chest pain Sunday night. Considering it has not been that long since my open heart surgery, I went into the Emergency Room at the local hospital. There I lay for several hours as they filled me up with a vast array of pain killers, none of which seemed to do very much. I received a CT scan which showed I had fluid around my heart. A decision was made to transfer me to the hospital that my surgeon works out of so he could take a better approach at observing me.

Very early Monday morning they boxed me up in an ambulance and whisked me away to the next hospital. The ride was bumpy, but they gave me a free stuffed alligator for being a good patient. I rather enjoyed that personally. I arrived at my new digs around 6 am and was told that I could not have anything to eat or drink, including water, in case they wanted to do a test. Mind you I ate dinner around 7 the night before. This lasted until 4pm, when the doctor left for the day and it was clear they were not going to test me. In other words, it was all for nothing. Having morphine and other heavy duty pain killers in your system on an empty stomach was not very thrilling. Worse yet, they informed me at 7 pm that evening I was back to no food or water in case they wanted to test me the following day. This lasted until 11 am the following day. After persistent “Test me or give me a damn cracker!” outbursts from yours truly, the finally decided they were not going to test me for anything that day either.

My alligator from the folks at Bell Ambulance

Here I was, day three in the hospital, still in pain and nobody could give me an answer as to why. They had added an ultrasound to the CT Scan and now informed me there was no fluid around my heart. Later, a chest x-ray was added. I think this was just so they could say they did all of the imaging tests. By this time I was growing quite frustrated. Even the nurses, who were wonderful and helpful people, were also growing frustrated at the doctors lack of appearances or answers.

I stayed in the hospital 2 more days. These 4 days amounted to the same amount of time I had spent in the hospital after my open heart surgery. I had seen 3 doctors that were not even ones I go to. It was not until one of them did a little more poking around that they came to the conclusion that I had a rare condition that affects 5% of heart surgery patient. It is a sort of late onset inflammation. By the time I was going to be released, I was pretty frustrated. In addition to enduring 18 hours of no food and water one day followed by 14 hours of the same the following day for absolutely no reason, it was like pulling teeth to get answers or talk to a doctor. Then, I refocused. This was aided by 2 events, one very tragic and one pleasant.

As I was putting all of my stuff in a bag to take with me, I received a message I was not expecting. I have been out of my day job since the 11th of January because of my surgery. I just learned one of my coworkers, only a year my senior, had passed away. Little did I know that 2 months ago when I saw him, it would be the last time. Sure, I was leaving the hospital with ‘best guess’ diagnosis and treatment, but at least I was leaving. My friends and family would be happy for my return and not mourning my loss. I suddenly felt a little guilty for feeling the way I was. I am sure this man would have preferred to return to his family and his friends.

That night as I went to sleep, I noticed how my mattress, that had always felt rather uncomfortable, felt like a cloud compared to the bed in the hospital. What was even better was that I was sharing it with the most beautiful woman in the world. The very one who snuck me in a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in case they tried make me endure a third day of forced hunger strikes. This brief moment of pain and struggle was nothing compared to what it could have been. I made it out of the hospital. I was feeling quite better than when I went in. I did have a bed to return to. I also had someone extremely special to share it with. It was then I recalled the quote from Gandhi above. No matter how much life seems to be throwing at you, it is throwing a whole lot more at others. Not only that, but it will certainly remind you of all you have to be grateful for that you may have forgotten.

WHAT HAPPENED WHEN I DIED

I APOLOGIZE FOR LEAVING YOU GUYS WONDERING, BUT I MADE IT THROUGH THE OPEN HEART SURGERY! WELL, KIND OF. THERE WAS ACTUALLY A MOMENT COMING OUT OF IT THAT DID NOT GO SO WELL. ONE OF THOSE MOMENTS THAT WILL STICK WITH ME FOR QUITE SOME TIME.

I AM CURRENTLY WORKING ON A BOOK THAT WILL DETAIL MY ENTIRE JOURNEY THROUGH THIS MEDICAL ADVENTURE, BUT I’M GOING TO SHARE THE PIVOTAL MOMENT WITH YOU HERE. THAT WOULD BE THE MOMENT I ALMOST DIDN’T MAKE IT BACK.

WHILE HAVING MY HEART SLICED AND DICED, I OBVIOUSLY HAD TO BE ON A BREATHING TUBE. THE FIRST THING I REMEMBER POST SURGERY WAS A NURSE SCREAMING “YOU HAVE TO BREATHE NEIL!” I REMEMBER DOING SO WITH A TUBE STUCK DOWN MY THROAT WAS QUITE DIFFICULT. THIS VOICE CAME FROM MY RIGHT SIDE. FROM MY LEFT SIDE I HEARD A FEMALE VOICE SAY “JUST RELAX” THIS SEEMED MORE UP MY ALLEY.

AS SOON AS I STARTED TO RELAX THINGS WENT BLACK AND I FELT RELAXED. THIS WAS PROMPTLY INTERRUPTED BY THE NURSE ON MY RIGHT SCREAMING “WE NEED YOU TO BREATHE” IN WHICH CASE I COULD FEEL THE DISCOMFORT OF THE TUBE IN MY THROAT. THIS WENT BACK AND FORTH FOR SOME UNDETERMINED AMOUNT OF TIME. FINALLY, THE NURSE ON THE RIGHT SAID “WE NEED YOU TO BREATHE DEEP IF YOU WANT THIS TUBE OUT!” NOW SHE WAS SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE.

I RECALL SUCKING ON AS THE TUBE SLID OUT. I THEN RECALL THE NURSE YELLING THEY NEEDED NARCAN. FADE TO BLACK.

I WOKE UP MOMENTS LATER BEING WHEELED DOWN A HALLWAY. “WHERE ARE WE GOING?” I ASKED. I WAS INFORMED I WAS GOING TO ICU TO RECOVER. THAT WAS PART TRUE. ICU – YES. RECOVERY- DIDN’T FEEL LIKE IT. THE NARCAN THEY GAVE ME TO BRING ME BACK IN THE OPERATING ROOM, SHUT DOWN THE RECEPTORS TO OPOIDS IN MY BRAIN. GOOD FOR AN ADDICT, NOT SO GOOD FOR SOMEONE JUST OUT OF HEART SURGERY.

THE EVENING OF MY SURGERY I LAID IN BED WITH 2, 12″ TUBES IN MY CHEST, WIRES COMING OUT OF MY CHEST, A CATHETER (WHICH IS ALWAYS HUMBLING) AND NO PAIN MEDICINE. OH, THEY TRIED GIVING ME SOME WHICH CAUSED ME TO GET SICK ON 4 SEPARATE OCCASIONS. CONSIDERING IN THE 48 HOURS LEADING UP TO THAT I HAD JUST CONSUMED WATER, THIS COULD HAVE BEEN A LOT WORSE. PLUS, GETTING SICK WITH TUBES IN YOUR CHEST AND JUST BEING STITCHED UP IS A WHOLE DIFFERENT ADVENTURE.

TALKING TO THE RESPIRATORY NURSE A FEW DAYS LATER, SHE INFORMED ME SHE WAS THE VOICE I HEARD YELLING ON MY RIGHT SIDE TO BREATHE AND THE ONE WHO REMOVED MY BREATHING TUBE. I THEN ASKED WHO WAS THE VOICE ON MY LEFT TELLING ME TO RELAX. I WAS INFORMED THERE WAS NO VOICE. YET, I RECALL HEARING IT CLEAR AS CAN BE. WHO THAT WAS WE WILL NEVER KNOW.

WHAT I WILL LEAVE FROM THIS EXPERIENCE IS THAT IF I CAN MAKE IT THROUGH OPEN HEART SURGERY WITHOUT PAIN PILLS, I CAN PRETTY MUCH DO ANYTHING. THANKS TO THE BRILLIANT WORK OF THE DOCTORS AND NURSES, I AM SO HERE AND EAGER TO BRING YOU EVERYTHING I CAN!

FLIP THE SCRIPT

Bad days, we all have them. One day both the air conditioning and driver’s side window in your car decide to both stop working. You have just worked some overtime and are thinking how best to enjoy the extra cash you worked so hard for when your license plate renewal notice comes in the mail. You are at the gym training for a 5k charity race you have coming up and next thing you know you are laying in the hospital on the brink of open heart surgery. It is highly unlikely all of this would happen to one person in a single week, but it happened to me… last week.

It would have been easy to think of throwing in the towel at some point and feeling depressed. To be honest for a second I did. That all changed on a rainy day hot day after I was discharged from the hospital. Wanting to take a break from the fabulous cardiac diet I was enjoying at the hospital, my mother, lovely lady and I all went for a taco pizza at a local establishment. On the way there I say a man dressed for a warm sunny day standing in the rain at the bus stop. There was no shelter and he had no choice. Hopefully after being drenched and having to get on a cold bus, he was on his way home to change into something dry, but I cannot be sure of that. Suddenly, my car troubles did not seem that bad.

The more I thought about that the same applied to all of the other challenges my week had thrown at me. I had a job to pay the extra bill that came in, I was still around after my heart scare. It is more than just finding the light in the dark though. How often have we all sat and thought extensively on what it is that is wrong or lacking in our life? I am know I have and I am guessing you may have too. I always use the analogy at my seminars if you are on a all expense paid vacation with the one you love and then you get a toothache things can go from great to bad in a blink of an eye.

Here is what I am going to ask you to do this weekend. It is a challenge for you and for me. This weekend let us pick two areas of our life and focus on everything we love and are grateful for. Let us do this for 24 hours for each one. To make it even more powerful you might even want to write them down. At the very least, write down what particular area of your life you are focusing on that day. Is it your relationship? Sure, it might not be perfect, but there are reasons you love it or you wouldn’t still be there. Maybe your job? It would be easy to complain about how we wish we were paid more, had more time off, better hours or even a better boss. How often do we do that? For at least 24 hours, let us solely focus on the good about that. Keep it in the back of your mind for the entire day. Ask yourself at various times throughout the day, “What do I love or am grateful for about this area of my life?” Maybe carry a small notebook around and write down your answers? Feel free to come back to this post on Monday and share how you felt and what, if any, results came of doing this.