By David Weinfurtner
My battle against heart problems began when I was a child. At the age of five, I had a convulsion and passed out. My doctor in a small town in Central Wisconsin passed on hospitalizing me. He sent me home with my parents, and I was supposed to just rest in bed. Can you imagine a 5 year old boy resting in bed all day?
At nine, I was diagnosed with rheumatic fever. From his exams using his stethoscope and the EKG (electrocardiogram), my doctor determined that my mitral valve was damaged pretty badly. Also, his exams revealed that I probably had an earlier attack of rheumatic fever (probably the one when I was five) and that I should have been hospitalized then. When the diagnosed attack of rheumatic fever happened in 1957, there was no echogram for doctors to use, so they had to rely on the stethoscope and the EKG.
When I turned 18, in 1965, the Army sent me to Milwaukee for my physical. Needless to say, I failed it. Up until this point in my life, that is the only exam that I was glad I failed.
Over the next 40 years my heart continued to struggle along. Let me emphasize that the only problem I knew I had was my mitral valve. My doctor in my hometown never mentioned my aortic valve had been affected too. I had to be careful that I did not physically overdo it because I did not want to get extremely tired.
When I turned 60, my cardiologist put me on the six-Month schedule (seeing me every six months). Finally, in early 2011, at the age of 63, during an appointment, my doctor said, “Your heart has changed drastically, and unless you have the surgery, you could have an episode.”
This certainly alarmed me because for the most part, I was not informed that I would eventually need surgery. He also told me. “You are the ideal candidate.” When he said that, I thought he was talking with a double-edged sword. Later, I would realize what he meant: Namely, that there would be no complications for me because I was the ideal weight and in great health. Regardless, I reluctantly decided to move forward and have the surgery.
Pushing the fear aside, I went to the hospital with my wife Judi on June 16, 2011. I made preparations for open heart surgery by taking off my street clothes and putting on a hospital gown. When I got onto the gurney and the staff was wheeling me into OR, that is when they hit me: he fear and panic. At one point I said, “Lord, I can’t do this.” God reassured me by saying, “Let me handle it.”
You know what? That was the best advice I have ever received. The result: Because He handled it, that was the easiest surgery I have ever had. My hospital stay for the surgery was six days, and exactly two weeks after the surgery, I was shopping at Sam’s and Walmart. What a fantastic recovery!
Finally, the battle was over. I now could rest because the fighting was over. My heart was healed because of the great skill of the doctors and staff at Christus St. Patrick Hospital. I took off the gloves and changed from a fighter into a lover.
A day or so before leaving the hospital, a couple from Mended Hearts visited me. They said they were looking for people who wanted to visit other heart patients and share their story. As soon as they said that, I said, “Say no more. I am in.” At that point, I recalled my experience of being on the surgical table, fear gripping me, not knowing if I was coming back. Almost immediately after getting out of the hospital, I joined Mended Hearts and started volunteering by visiting people (patients and their families) and sharing my story. God has blessed me over and over because of it.
For these past nearly eight years, I have had a terrific life. If not for the surgery and the great skill of the medical personnel at Christus St. Patrick Hospital, I would probably not be here today. All I can say is, “Thank you medical professionals.”
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