Cardiac Christmas
Duchenne muscular dystrophy nearly was the Grinch who stole my Christmas. However, my Christmas came early this year, in November, when I received the greatest gift imaginable - another chance at life. No, I am not George Bailey from It’s A Wonderful Life, or was I visited by three ghosts, like Ebeneezer Scrooge. However, I did get a new lease on life, and I am more thankful than ever to be here to celebrate Christmas this year. With blessings already counted, I give you the story:
I was sitting at the computer minding my own darn business when the lights in the room suddenly went dim for a few moments, my head felt like bees were flying around inside, and my pulse rate plummeted into the low thirties. Turned out that I had experienced a complete heart block! According to my cardiologist, Dr. Chapman, this technically should have spelled the end of this blog and the end my life. Instead of the lights going dim, it really should have been lights out! Fortunately, a miracle happened during my visit to the emergency room - my heart seemingly flipped a switch and somehow corrected itself, and I survived.
But I wasn’t free to celebrate just yet, as it was likely that I would be hit by another complete heart block at any time. To avoid this, Dr. Chapman recommended that I get an Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator (ICD), which is a combination pacemaker and defibrillator. The pacemaker would prevent my heart rate from dropping dangerously low and the defibrillator would shock my heart back into a steady rhythm if it started racing at a life-threatening pace. Great, not only would my pulse be controlled, but I could also be zapped at any moment. Yeah, like I can’t wait to be electrocuted! I kept envisioning myself getting shocked, flying out of my wheelchair and smashing into a brick wall like Wile E. Coyote in a Roadrunner cartoon. And to top it all off, I needed to have the ICD put in right away! Sudden surgery to guard against sudden death was not my idea of fun.
When Dr. Chapman showed me a sample of the actual device, I could not believe that it would fit in my chest. After all, I don’t exactly have pecs like the Incredible Hulk! Although the ICD was about half the size of an iPod, it appeared huge at first sight. Two wires would go from the device down through a large artery and be attached into my heart. You’re putting that thing in me? Was this guy insane??? I had been fighting the notion of an ICD tooth-and-nail for the past few years, but in light of the fact that I had just narrowly escaped death, I was forced to reconsider. The options were: be a sitting duck without the device, or get it and have some sort of protection against potential sudden death. My choice was simple - get the freaking thing! I wasn’t about to let Duchenne muscular dystrophy push me around. I was ready to keep fighting for my life!
Chapman called upon cardiac arrythmia specialist Dr. Roland Filart to perform the implant. Filart reviewed the procedure and filled me in on the risks, which were exceptionally high for someone in my condition. He told me that there was a slight chance that I could even die on the operating table. Die? Wait a second, that wasn’t part of the deal! Sure, I was scared, but I had tremendous faith in this man, especially since Chapman recommended him. And as a Christian, I also had an overwhelming faith in the divine, and knew I would be spared. Plus, I had a strong faith in myself, that I could weather any storm. I have been battling Duchenne muscular dystrophy all my life, so this surgery would be no different. I would not be beaten.
Dr. Filart awoke on the morning of the surgery with an epiphany. Instead of seating the ICD directly under my thin skin, which could cause erosion over time and would require additional surgery, he decided to place the device between my pectoral muscle and ribcage for extra support. However, this would require the handy-work of a thoracic surgeon. Enter Jeffrey Bott. Dr. Bott was the best in the business at this sort of thing, so I knew I was in good hands. He even took a moment to pray with me - and my family - right before I fell under the anesthetic. This only boosted my confidence in the guy. The procedure went exceptionally well and I survived.
I like to think of Chapman, Filart and Bott as my own personal Magi, the Three Wise Men who, together, gave me a single gift - the continuation of life. I am extremely grateful for these men, for the star that guided them, and for being alive to see another Christmas. My wish is that you all can find a way to appreciate the lives you have been given despite any adversities you might face. Merry Christmas!

