Robert, I know only too well the power of prayer from experience gained early in life and my own experience seven years ago this July. I had a major heart attack at ~2:30am, July 1, 2012. The 911 call gave response before I hung up the phone and I was hauled out to the ambulance, my wife was placed up front with the driver. I passed out about two blocks from the house and I was told later they performed CPR 3-4 times on the way to the hospital. I believe it because I later discovered I had three cracked ribs. A triple by-pass was performed by a well known expert cardiac surgeon that just happened to be at the hospital covering for an associate who was on vacation. That surgeon normally didn't work that hospital, yet was there that night. Around 5:30am he talked to my wife, told her to call the family together because after all he had done...he felt it was for naught. I was not expected to last more than a few hours due to damage and even with what's known as a balloon pump to assist the heart. She called her kids and mine, hers were all in Florida at the time and showed up within 2-3 hours. My two remaining girls are out of state and were there within 24 hours. A close cousin of mine was notified also, she was like a big sister to me while growing up together. With that, calls went out to family and friends literally worldwide, generating hundreds of prayers not only for me but for the family as well. During the operation, since I had accumulated so much fluid they couldn't close me and kept me in a coma, I didn't open my eyes for ten days. My daughter Toni later told me the nurses were surprised when they returned the next day to see I was still there. And 48 hrs. I was getting stronger and the balloon pump was removed, Toni has a picture of me with that in place along with 14 monitors and bags of fluids/meds hanging from what they called the Tree of Life. One night while Toni was visiting with her sister, they became aware of a strong smell of urine so called the nurse. Seems after four days my kidneys kicked in and as Toni put it...."dad, you started pissing like a race horse." Okay honey....thanks for that!
After I woke up on day ten, I was visited by a number of drs. together and was told there had been so much damage to the heart I might want to consider applying for a transplant because as they put it...."Mr. Schmidt, without it you'll never have any kind of active life for as long as you live." When I heard that I made up my mind to make liars of the entire bunch.
Prior to the attack, I had been hitting the gym 2-3 times a week. Once out of the hospital(after 5 wks.) and without a pacemaker(I insisted against it being installed for a while), I became as active as strength would allow...which wasn't much. I was released on Aug. 6, by early Sept. I was riding the bicycle on the street, looking/wobbling somewhat like a kid on Christmas morning trying to ride his new bicycle for the first time. Once I gained my balance, I'd go out and sit on the Valk and stand it up....testing the legs. Seemed to not be a problem there either. Finally one afternoon I put on some jeans, thick jacket(just in case), boots, told Rita I'm going for a ride around the block...a distance of two miles since it encircles a portion of the golf course. She thought I meant the bicycle....until she heard me start the Valk. By the time I pulled back into the driveway I had tears....a bit weak and exhausted but thrilled to my core. In October I led a group to Daytona for Octoberfest, kinda blew their minds. I went back to the gym the beginning of November, three months following my discharge. I had a goal....to be lifting as much or more by my birthday five months away, as I was lifting the afternoon before my attack. I exceeded that goal by mid-March.
As it turned out, I can do anything I please; ride the bicycle, often 10 or more miles, take walks, ride the motorcycle, play golf....anything. Not bad for someone that was advised to apply for a heart transplant. Did I do all this on my own power? Absolutely not...nor am I able to take care of Rita now on my own power. I'd fail miserably. I'll be 81 shortly and though often tired during the day, I find I still have the physical and emotional strength to care for her and still able to ride the bike, the Valk, hit the gym. Do I believe in the power of prayer? Without question, there's simply been too many events in my life to be passed off as coincidence.
I hope this piece hasn't gone overboard, I just felt the need to lay it out as I haven't in the past and to do so to support the point of Robert's post. If it offends anyone, I'm afraid that's your choice...to be offended! I make no apologies.
