May God Bless America

Well, today is the day. America will decide the next president of our country. We will either elect the first African American man as President or elect the first female Vice-President. Either way, history will be made. Either way, one party will be disappointed, while the other celebrates. Some will know the thrill of victory, others the agony of defeat.

Either way, our country will remain divided after a bitter political contest that has lasted nearly three years. And, my guess is, that before the night is over, someone will predict who the next candidates will be in four years.

But, the greatest news is this: Come Wednesday morning, God will be on His throne, just as He always has been. God will not change come Wednesday. And, God's desire for all of us will remain the same--He will still desire for all of us to come to salvation through His Son Jesus Christ.

Listen to the words of our first President, George Washington:

"Almighty God, we make our earnest prayer that Thou wilt keep the United States in Thy holy protection, that Thou wilt incline the hearts of the citizens to cultivate a spirit of subordination and obedience to government, and entertain a brotherly affection and love for one another and for their fellow citizens of the United States at large.

"And finally, that Thou wilt most graciously be pleased to dispose us all to do justice, to love mercy, and to demean ourselves with that charity, humility, and pacific temper of mind which were the characteristics of the Divine Author of our blessed religion, and without an humble imitation of whose example in these things, we can never hope to be a happy nation.

"Grant our supplications, we beseech thee, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

(George Washington, Written at Newburg, June 8th, 1783, sent to the governors of all the states)

What wise words for America today. May they be so! May our next President be such a person of faith, hope, and integrity!

What's Fair is Fair

Cosmic Cowboy Rides Again

Yesterday, I shared a song with you that I played while employed at Samford University's radio station.

Just for laughs, here's another song that was very popular during those days! I'll be curious if any of you have ever heard the song or can even remember it.

It was quite popular in those days...who knows, maybe the cosmic cowboy will ride again!

Does A Father Ever Know Best?

What do you do with a little boy who will be 9-months old tomorrow? I suppose handcuffs might work. Maybe a straight jacket. Maybe some medicines would be helpful.

Evan is very active! Evan enjoys life and playing and having fun. He especially enjoys playing in the kitchen. I'm not sure why, but he does. The problem with that is that the kitchen is just a little too dangerous for him, even if we have childproofed it. Plus, I can't always see him when he crawls behind the couch into the kitchen.

So, Friday afternoon, I came up with a temporary solution for dealing with Mr. Evan's adventures!



Kind of sad, isn't it? I'm a grown man. I have more than one degree. I'm usually a pretty smart guy. Yet, at 9-months, Evan has just about defeated me already!

And in case you are wondering, my temporary solution only worked for about 5 minutes. After that, he found a way around it!

And then the chase was on again!

Yes, He's Alive!

I went to a small Christian college in Birmingham, Alabama. In my first year there, I had the opportunity to work at the on-campus FM radio station. I believe our signal was actually strong enough to make it completely across the campus--unless it was overcast or fog rolled in.

I really loved working on radio! I had the opportunity to listen to some of the greatest singers and artists of all time! I enjoyed taking requests from friends and fellow students--once I learned that that's what the red blinking light was telling me--someone was calling in a request!

One of the very first songs I played was by Don Francisco.

For old time's sake, enjoy what is probably his greatest hit of all time.

Too Soon to Die

This story really breaks my heart. Don Doane belonged to the same bowling team at a Ravenna, Michigan, bowling alley for 45 years.

Just moments after rolling the first perfect 300 game of his life, Doane collapsed onto the floor while high-fiving his Nutt Farm teammates. The 62-year-old Ravenna resident was taken to a local hospital but couldn’t be saved. A medical examiner determined that a heart attack killed Doane.

Jim Nutt spoke with Grand Rapids TV stations WOOD and WZZM about his friend and teammate, who collapsed at the bowling alley. Nutt says Doane won’t be forgotten by his many friends at the Muskegon County bowling alley. They say it’s strange not seeing Doane anymore on league nights.

How terrible that is to be celebrating such an amazing accomplishment, only to die a few minutes later. How sad to be high-fiving your friends and collapse immediately to the floor.

I’ve never heard of Don Doane before and I don’t know any thing more about his medical history or why this heart attack happened as it did. However, speaking from personal experience, let me encourage you to get regular heart checkups. If you have a family history of heart problems or if your job is extremely stressful, don’t even question doing it—just do it! Talk to a cardiologist. Set up the appointment. There’s no good reason to wait—but there are at least four good reasons to see the cardiologist—those would be your four arteries in your heart.

Okay, enough preaching to you. Just don’t wait too long. I’d really like to hear about you running your first marathon or winning a cooking contest or riding a new distance on your bike or seeing the birth of your first grandchild or finding the perfect place to serve God. You can’t do those things if you are dead. Don Doane’s celebration was way too short. Don’t let your celebrations be like that.

What's the Rest of the Story?

At first glance, the following story makes me feel good about the compassion of people. Then, on second glance, I have a few questions.

If you will, go ahead and read the story below. I’ll share a few thoughts at the end. And, I hope you’ll comment, letting me know your thoughts as well. Maybe I’ve missed something.

The story comes from Dallas, Texas. It seems that a Texas woman went to a housing auction distraught about the prospect of watching strangers bid on her foreclosed home. Then one of those strangers bought her back for her!

Now, Tracy Orr can return to her Pottsboro home, making payments to the woman who unexpectedly and impulsively bought it for her. “It means so much to all of us,” Orr told Dallas television station WFAA. “It’s not just a house.”

Marilyn Mock said she was acting on instinct on Saturday when she decided to buy a house she had never seen for a woman she had never met. Mock was at the foreclosure auction to help her 27-year-old son bid on a house when she struck up a conversation with Orr, who was crying about losing her home.

Orr had bought the house for $80,000 in 2004 but fell behind on the payments. She lost her job a month after taking out the loan, and earlier this year she lost the house. On the spot, Mock decided to buy it, eventually bidding $30,000.

“She didn’t even know if I had a job or was a nut case,” Orr said in a story for Wednesday’s online edition of The Dallas Morning News. “She didn’t even see a picture of the house.”

Mock told a crying Orr she could stay in the house, making payments to her instead of a bank.
“She needed help. That was it,” Mock told the newspaper. “I just happened to be there and anybody else would have done the same thing.”

Orr said she hopes others will do as Mock did. “More than my house, she gave me something inside, and that’s more important than material or financial things,” she said.

The two are waiting on final approval from Fannie Mae before visiting the home.

So, what do you think? At first glance, this is a great story. We should probably praise Ms. Mock for helping Ms. Orr. She was truly a blessing to someone who certainly wasn’t expecting a blessing.

Now, on the other side of the coin, Ms. Orr bought her home in 2004, and a month later lost her job. And, then in 2008, she finally lost the home. Did she not have a job from 2004 until earlier this year? Did she not work? Or, did she fall so far behind in payments that she couldn’t catch up? That part of the story isn’t complete. But, what I’ve found in life is that most companies are more than willing to work with you to solve back payments. Don’t take that as meaning that they do so out of the goodness of their heart. Instead, these companies had rather have steady payments coming in, instead of foreclosing on a house. Why? Well, in this case, the house originally sold for $80,000. When it was sold in foreclosure, how much did the company get? $30,000, less any fees charged by the auctioning company. Needless to say, they lost money on the deal.

I just hope in the months ahead that Ms. Orr does everything in her power to repay Ms. Mock every penny she is due. If not, will the next time they meet up be in court? Probably so.

I’m sorry if I seem cynical about this. There’s probably more to this story than I know. If you know more, please share. If you have comment, please do the same.

A Different View of Things

I love summertime vegetables. You know, a fresh ear of corn. A nice green pepper from the garden. Crisp green beans. Juicy watermelon or peach. Cucumbers! As a popular Food Network is known to say: Yum-O!

Oh, and be sure to add a nice, round, juicy, and fresh red tomato to that list. There is nothing like a good tomato sandwich! With mayo and black pepper! Now you are talking some good eating!

Well, times are changing, as Bob Dylan once opined. Before long, we may have to change our way of thinking as we add genetically engineered purple tomatoes to our bread. British researches have engineered purple tomatoes that may well be added to the list of foods known to help fight cancer.

These researchers engineered the fruit to contain nutrients more commonly seen in dark berries, which have been shown to lower the risk of cancer, heart disease, and some neurological diseases.

For the study, cancer-prone mice fed the fruit lived an average of 40 days longer than animals on a standard diet. “The effect was much bigger than we had expected,” Cathie Martin, a plant biologist, said in a news release. “It is enormously encouraging to believe that by changing diet, or specific components in the diet, you can improve health in animals and possibly humans.”

Researchers focused on anthocyanins, a type of antioxidant found in berries such as blackberries and blackcurrants.

The researchers said trials in humans are still a long way off.

While I know it may take some time for my eyes to adjust to seeing purple tomatoes, so be it, if these little creations help with cancer, neurological diseases, and heart disease. After my little bout with my health recently, I might just offer to sign up to be a “test subject” for them! After all, I do love blueberries and blackberries, and I really do love tomatoes. So, what could be so bad about giving them a try!

What do you think? Game to try purple tomatoes?

Tough Love vs. Spanking

Okay, many of you are faithful readers and you have offered some great words of wisdom in the past.

I need your help again. My wife forwarded me an email, that came from a friend of hers. In the email, the friend passed along a possible new form of discipline for our son. While he is still a little young for too much discipline, my wife and I definitely want to get an early start on setting Evan down the right path.

So, would you read her email below and let me know your thoughts. Your wisdom would be appreciated!

Tough Love vs. Spanking—A Good Argument

Most of the American population thinks it’s improper to spank children. So, I have tried other methods to control my kids when they have one of “those moments.”

One that I found effective is for me to just take the child for a car ride and talk. Some say it’s the vibration from the car, others say it’s the time away from any distractions such as TV, video games, computer, iPod, etc.

Either way, my kids usually calm down and stop misbehaving after our car ride together. Eye to eye contact helps a lot too.

I’ve included a photo below of one of my sessions with my son, in case you would like to use the technique.

P.S. This works with grandchildren, nieces, and nephews as well.

Stayin' Alive

Do you remember the old song “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees? Maybe blogger friend Bill will feature it on his blog soon—he does love the hair days of the 1960s and 70s.

Well, the song has now been proven to be more than just a song. At 103 beats per minute, the old disco song has almost the perfect rhythm to help jump-start a stopped heart. Little did I know! But, I’m sure going to keep this in mind if I have another heart attack!

In study from the University of Illinois medical school, doctors and students maintained close to the ideal number of chest compressions doing CPR while listening to the catchy, sung-in-falsetto tune from the 1977 movie “Saturday Night Fever.”

The American Heart Association recommends 100 chest compressions per minute, far more than most people realize, study author Dr. David Matlock of the school’s Peoria, Illinois, campus said.

And while CPR can triple cardiac arrest survival rates when properly performed, many people hesitate to do it because they’re not sure about keeping the proper rhythm, Matlock said.
He found that “Stayin’ Alive,” which has a way of getting stuck in your head anyway, can help with that. His study involved 15 students and doctors and had two parts. First they did CPR on mannequins while listening to the song on iPods. They were asked to time chest compressions with the song’s beat. Five weeks later, they did the same drill without the music but were told to think of the song while doing compressions.

The average number of compressions the first time was 109 per minute; the second time it was 113. That’s more than recommended, but Matlock said that when it comes to trying to revive a stopped heart, a few extra compressions per minute is better than too few.

The study showed the song helped people who already know how to do CPR, and the results were promising enough to warrant larger, more definitive studies with real patients or untrained people, Matlock said. He plans to present his findings at an American College of Emergency Physicians meeting in Chicago this month.

It turns out the American Heart Association has been using the song as a training tip for CPR instructors for about two years. They learned of it from a physician “who sort of hit upon this as a training tool,” said association spokesman Dr. Vinay Nadkarni of the University of Pennsylvania.

So, not a fan of the Bee Gees, “Saturday Night Fever, or “Stayin’ Alive?” Well, rumor has it that a Queen song has a similar beat, but might not be as good to sing while trying to revive someone. The song? Maybe you’ve heard of it: “Another One Bites the Dust.”

Catchy beat. Just not as good to revive by.

You Provide the Caption

I would title this picture "Daddy's Little Helper."

What caption would you give it?

Home is Where the Trouble Is

A Berlin man is in trouble with the police; however, his police and legal troubles may well be the least of his trouble!

Berlin police say that a Swedish man came to them on Saturday claiming to have been abducted from his home in southern Sweden by two men who demanded money and took him to the German city.

Well, as police are known to do, they began doing their job by starting a large-scale search for his kidnappers. But, early this week, police said that the 43-year-old’s story fell apart in questioning.

The Swedish man told police officers that he had embarked on a European tour to get away from marital problems at home. He said he came up with the kidnapping story to explain his absence to his wife—who had reported him missing.

Now, the man is under investigation for faking a crime and prosecutors ordered a $3,800 bail payment.

Going to jail may be appropriate in this case. Paying $3,800 bail is probably justifiable as well. Coming clean to the police is a good start. But, can you imagine explaining this to your wife.

“Honey, I just needed a break…”

“Sweetheart, I was heading home from work and instead of turning left into the neighborhood, I turned right on the Interstate and just kept driving.”

“Darling, I had amnesia!”

"Baby, the devil made me do it!"

Not sure any of those will work in his situation. I’m wondering if he can hire a criminal attorney and a divorce attorney in a package deal, you know, 2-for-1 kind of thing? No doubt, before it’s all over, he’ll probably need both.

So Easy Grandma Can Do It!

The Greatest Song Ever!

Blogger friend, Joe Blackmon, gave me the idea to include this video on my blog.

Folks, turn up the volume on your computer. Nevermind whether you are at work, home, or even the school library. Turn up the volume, sit back, and enjoy!

Beyond any shadow of doubt, this is the great university fight song ever written! Hands down!

As I told Joe, when I walk through the Golden Gates of Heaven, I fully expect the heavenly band to be playing this song.

Here goes...

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

The Christmas season, I mean holiday season, I mean the season of giving unnecessary gifts going into debt for no apparent reason, is about to begin.

You can tell. The news media is beginning to tell us about the idiotic trend of removing the word “Christmas” from everything. It happens every year and just seems to get worse and worse every year. First, we couldn’t celebrate Christmas in school. Then, we couldn’t celebrate Christmas at the mall. Then, it was the courthouse square, no Christmas decorations were appropriate unless every other know religion or denomination or protest group had the same opportunity to decorate.

Well, the first report I’ve seen of this happening this year comes from Patchogue, New York (should we be surprised that it comes from New York. Probably not.)

It has been reported that a famed fireworks company is pulling out of a “holiday” boat parade because “Christmas” was dropped from the event’s name.

Fireworks by Grucci won’t lend its sparkle to Patchogue’s November 23 parade—decorated yachts on the Patchogue River—because the organizers have renamed it the Patchogue Holiday Boat Parade. It was the Patchogue Christmas Boat Parade last year, when the Grucci company donated $5,000 worth of fireworks.

The company’s vice president, Philip Butler, who has criticized the secularization of Christmas in the past, said parade organizers were “using all the themes of Christmas and plagiarizing all those themes.” Good for Mr. Butler!

Organizers in the town on Long Island, near New York City, said the parade has had several names over its roughly 15-year existence. The name was changed again this year after complaints that the use of “Christmas” seemed to make the parade less inclusive.

Now, I will admit that when I think of Christmas I don’t always think about fireworks. I’ll also have to say to the New York town that when I think of Christmas that I also don’t think about decorating boats!

Christmas is not about trees, presents, going into debt, Santa Claus, elves, reindeer, church attendance, families getting together, or even special musical services at church. No. Not a one of those things is Christmas. They may be focused on around the month of December, but they aren’t Christmas.

Christmas is about celebrating the birth of our Savior Jesus Christ. That simple. That complex. Christmas is all about His birth.

So, thank you Patchogue, New York, for helping me to remember, even on October 27, what Christmas is really about. I hope you have a good parade. You are free, in America, to celebrate anything and everything. That is your right. Have fun. Decorate. Enjoy. I’m all in favor of it. At the same time, I have a right not to attend a holiday event, parade, or sale.

I’ll live out my convictions, both with the choices of where I go and where I spend my money. That’s my right.

Merry Christmas Patchogue, New York!

The American Dream

A heart attack will do many things to you, and for you. One of those things is a renewed sense of priority and priorities.

Hope you have a great Sunday, worshipping the King of kings, spending time with the family, and resting.

Listen carefully to the words of this Casting Crowns video.

If You Could, Would You?

It will be faster than a speeding bullet: a pencil-shaped car powered by a jet engine and a rocket, roaring across a desert at 1,000 mph. If all goes to plan, the Bloodhound SSC will break the land speed record by the largest-ever margin, and, in 40 seconds of breathtaking thrust, inspire thousands of British schoolchildren to take their science college-entrance exams.

The car’s plans were to be unveiled this week with work to begin on it soon. 1,000 MPH! That’s a long ways from the current record.

The current record for a wheel-powered car is 458 mph, set in 2001 by brothers Don and Rick Vesco at the Bonneville Salt Flats in the western Utah desert. Rick Vesco hopes to break the 500-mph barrier in the same car in 2009.

So, here’s the question for you. If you could sign up to “drive” this “car” would you do it? Why? Why not?

And, then, if you really want to be bold in replying, here’s another question for you: What’s the fastest you have ever driven?

Who Did God Say Would Dominate the Earth?

The picture above may be a little difficult to understand. So, let me tell you what you are seeing: It is the picture of a spider eating a bird! Yes. You read that correctly. And it is real! No photoshop involved here! A spider eating a bird!

The incident took place in the backyard of a property near Cairns, Australia.

The photo, believed to have been taken earlier this week, shows the spider clenching its legs around a lifeless bird trapped in a web at a property near Atherton, west of Cairns.

Joel Shakespeare, the head spider keeper at NSW’s Australian Reptile Park, said the spider was a golden orb weaver. “Normally they prey on large insects, it’s unusual to see one eating a bird,” he said. Shakespeare said he had seen golden orb weaver spiders as big as a human hand but the northern species in tropical areas were known to grow larger.

Shakespeare said the bird, a chestnut-breasted mannikin which appears frozen in an angel-like pose in the pictures, is likely to have flown into the web and got caught.

Okay folks, enough is enough. Time for some extra strength spider killer! I feel pretty much about spiders as I do about snakes: The best snake is a dead snake! My father always told me as a child to find out what kind of snake it was before killing it. My answer to my dad was, “Dad, after I kill it I know what kind of snake it is—a dead one!”

What would you do if you came into your backyard and saw a spider eating a bird? (After running inside to grab your camera and circulate the picture on the Internet, of course.)

Fall is All About Hay and Chillin'

Wednesday afternoon, Evan and I were waiting for his mother to arrive home from work. So, we sat in the front yard, near our little fall display of hay, mums, and pumpkins. Evan was taken with the hay. It literally took him no time to grab a long piece of hay and stick it in his mouth!

I guess you can be born in the city, but it's hard to get your redneck genes out of you!



Another afternoon, after work, Evan, Tonya, and I went for my doctor prescribed walk. We walked about a mile and I have to say that I was tired when we got home. So, Evan and I stretched out on the couch and propped our feet up! I think he liked doing that!

I Have the Solution

[Photo from Google Search Engine. Not the actual photo of person discussed below]

A 76-year-old woman who gave her address as 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue has been arrested for the 73rd time in almost four decades. This time, on charges of stealing a police decoy wallet in a supermarket and stuffing it in her bra.

The woman, who prosecutors say has used 36 aliases, was indicted Tuesday as Katherine Kelly in Manhattan Criminal Court in connection with the wallet. A criminal complaint filed earlier in this case charged Kelly with grand larceny and attempted grand larceny. It said she took a wallet, left by police as bait, from a shopping cart in a supermarket a few blocks north of Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts on October 15. It said an officer recovered the wallet from Kelly’s “bra area.”

Before Kelly was accused of taking the wallet, the complaint says, undercover police saw her trying to steal from several people inside the supermarket by putting her hand inside their bags.

Kelly’s lawyer, James Neilson, (and don’t you think he loves his job!) said Tuesday his client has not been convicted in this case and expects due process. He acknowledged his client has a rap sheet but wouldn’t comment on it.

And oh what a rap she has! The district attorney’s office says Kelly’s arrest record dates from December 21, 1971. On that date, office spokeswoman Tracy Golden said, Kelly was arrested as Charlotte Martinelli and charged with forgery. Golden did not know how the case was resolved.
Golden also noted that the woman has been arrested under 36 names, including Robin Shapiro, Antoinette Lombardi, Mildred Friedman, Sylvia McGuire, Victoria Velloti, and Charlotte Petrovas.

Golden said prosecutors are investigating the woman’s true identity. She said that although Kelly has given police 26 birth dates, her office is listing her as 76 because the age conforms to the birth date she gave with her latest arrest. Most of the defendant’s 73 arrests have occurred in Brooklyn, Golden said, with some in Manhattan and in Suffolk County, on Long Island.
The arrests have resulted in at least 16 convictions, Golden said. Most of the charges were felonies that were pleaded down to misdemeanors, she said.

I’m not a lawyer and have never played one on TV. However, I do know how to put an end to this woman’s criminal activity—put her in jail and leave her there! I’m serious. Lock her up. Give her an orange jumpsuit. Shut the door behind her. Turn the key. And, tell Katherine or Robin or Antoinette, or even Mildred goodbye, good riddance, adios!

I’m all for due process Mr. Lawyer. But somewhere between the first arrest and the 73rd due process almost seems unnecessary!

What do you think folks? Am I being too hard on her or the court system?

I Understand Mark Twain So Much Better Now!

[Casket from Google Search, not my actual casket]

Mark Twain once said that the rumors of his demise had been greatly exaggerated.

Apparently, someone was extremely hopeful that Mr. Twain had passed on to the next life and made it known that he had died. The only problem with that gossip was the fact that Mr. Twain was still alive!

Well, I understand how Mr. Twain must have felt.

Over the last few days, I've gotten many phone calls, emails, visits, well wishes and cards. I have appreciated each and every act of kindness. These have touched my heart.

However, the best card came today. It was addressed to both me and my wife. That fact is underlined and is important to the story below. The card was from a woman who works with my company, in another state.

Here's the text of her card:

"May loving memories
bring comfort to you
in this time of sadness.

With Deepest Sympathy."

Okay, help me understand this, will you please. If this person believes I have died, then why would she address the card to both me AND my wife? Wouldn't she have addressed it only to my wife? Wouldn't she be the one who needed sympathy? Sympathy ain't going to mean much to a dead person. Or, so I would assume.

Now I wonder who she has told that I've died. Will I get more sympathy cards? Will my wife get more sympathy cards? Will people be lining up to take my job? Will anyone actually send us/her flowers? Candy? Fresh fruit? Money? [Personally, I'm hoping for fresh fruit, since I can't eat candy anymore!]

Okay, on the other side of all of this, if she didn't think I had died, was this the only card she had to send? Did she do like the widow in the New Testament who gave her mite, the best she had? Did she just grab the first card that was in the box? Did she not read the words printed on the card? I know men are often accused of that, but really, a woman sending a sympathy card!

I had a heart attack! I didn't die!

I've always heard that "it's the thought that counts." Folks, in this situation, I'm not sure I'm buying that one this time!

A Sign of the Times?

Could this really be a sign of the times in which we live?

It seems that Framingham State College wanted to reach out and touch the wallets of younger potential donors. So, they recently sent a letter to these potential donors repeating the word “blah” 137 times in the letter campaign.

However, this letter has left some Framingham State College alumni questioning the school’s professionalism, judgment and blah, blah, blah.

The September 5 letter was sent to about 6,000 recent graduates who hadn’t donated to the school yet.

Christopher Hendry, the school’s VP of college advancement, said he approved the letter, which he saw as a worthy attempt to reach younger donors. After several complaints, he sent a letter of apology a month later.

Alumnus Ken Shifman, a 2003 grad, said the letter “insults the intelligence” of alumni, and didn’t seem like it came from a legitimate school.

VP Hendry did note that after the letter the school collected about $2,000 from nearly 40 alumni who never gave before.

What do you think? Worthy attempt? Lousy marketing campaign? If your former school sent you a letter like that, how would you respond?

The Empire Strikes Barack

Okay...let's see how far the humor goes on this one!

THE EMPIRE STRIKES BARACK | Funny Jokes at JibJab

Raining McCain

This is meant to be funny, not a political endorsement. If you can't see it for that, we might need to work on your sense of humor!

McCain Girls-Raining McCain | Funny Jokes at JibJab

Heart Attack--20 Lessons Learned

Some of my blogger friends have questioned whether or not I would be able to blog only one more time about my recent heart attack or whether I would need to do more. Good question. And, to be honest, I don't have a good answer at the moment. I suppose I'll just write about it as needed. Writing about this has been good. I think it has been healthy. I know writing has allowed me to formulate my thoughts better.

As promised, I wanted to share a few of the lessons I've learned over the last few days. By no means will this be all of the lessons, but a few random thoughts I've discovered along the way.

1) I am so thankful for medical technology in our country! It is amazing how in one or two little eraser-sized holes doctors can insert a device to clear out my artery and to see exactly what he is doing! Unless you really knew where to look, you wouldn't even see their incisions!

2) Now, even though medical technology is great, I do have a bone to pick with the people in the field. Don't you think they could develop tape that doesn't pull every hair out of your body by the roots! I hate to shave as it is. And, I'll grow a beard at the drop of the hat. So, I am well-blessed with a strong hair gene--everywhere except on the top of my head! So, when you are taped by a nurse or doctor, much pain is ultimately realized by the patient when said tape is removed by the nurse, doctor, or patient. Come on scientists! Find something that will attach itself in a good way and let go when no longer needed! Please! For the love of all that is good, and holy...and right. And decent!

3) Got a small bruise on your arm or leg that is causing you some grief! Let me show you a bruise! Blood thinner does great things to areas where only an eraser-sized incision was made!

4) While urgent care or primary care clinics get a bad rap at times, the one Evan and I went to on Monday deserves an A+ Award of the Day. I'll definitely write more about them in the days ahead!

5) Riding in the front of a firetruck or ambulance is definitely more fun than riding in the back on a gurney! Facing backward!

6) I still hate needles!

7) I have learned that 33% of all people who have a heart attack have no early warning signs. I am one of the 33% of people! If you are male, over the age of 40, find a cardiologist. Talk about taking an aspirin a day. Don't wait for the gorilla to sit on your chest! Trust me, you can't move him.

8) Not much looks better than to be wheeled out of the cath lab and see your wife standing there, waiting for you! What a sight for tired eyes.

9) I'm learning just how many people have gone through similar things! Two of four staff members at our church have had heart attacks or open heart surgery! Folks, that's just another "perk" of the ministry.

10) It's great to have blogging friends who I've never met, but know are praying for me. Your support system means much to me!

11) It is actually good to be back at work today. I hate sitting on the couch, watching TV, doing nothing. Today has given me the opportunity to focus my brain!

12) Want to feel a closeness to your parents? Well, just have a heart attack and you talk about similar medicines you are taking, procedures you are having done, and rides in ambulances! I wish I had not learned this lessong.

13) During the 13th day of the month, don't check out at WalMart in the 13th lane, as I did last Monday morning. While I am not overly superstitious, I did just that last Monday. There was absolutely no one in that lane--all of the other lanes were full. I remember saying to the casher, "Well, I guess today is my lucky day!" Depends on how you look at it, I suppose. I'm still here!

14) Animals really do know when something is wrong. Our little dog knew I was in trouble Monday. She jumped into my lap and licked me in the face during my heart attack. She wouldn't let me put her down. She seemed to know that I was facing some problem. Since I've been home, she has acted so weird. One minute, she's closer to me than my shadow, the next she acts as if I've beaten her terribly (which I would never do).

15) God still works miracles! During this entire experience, I've seen miracle after miracle that could have only come from His hands. He's been far too good to me, far better than I deserve.

16) I'm very behind on reading blogs! I read every blog listed under my blog roll to the right every day. Well, that was true until last Tuesday. I'll come back! I promise!

17) I'm glad to be alive!

18) I'm glad to be a Christ follower!

19) I'm glad to be a parent!

20) I'm glad to be a husband!

Heart Attack--Part V

As I share my journey through the events of the past week, I have learned much about myself along the way. I've also learned how important the details really are.

On Wednesday of last week, I was transferred to the Cardiac Care floor. I was very excited to finally be out of the CCU and moved to a private room. For the first time since my admission to the hospital, I would be able to sleep, see my family, get up and walk around, and even use normal bathroom facilities instead of a plastic container. Oh, the little things in life!

In CCU, I had grown accustomed to seeing my nurse every few minutes. At times in CCU, the nurse was coming by every five minutes to verify my vitals. Don't misunderstand, I am appreciative of the care they gave and their attention to the monitors. I have no doubt those things saved my life. However, as you progress and start getting a little better, you'd like just a little privacy, downtime, if you will. You'd like to get up and walk around and feel human. You'd like to go the bathroom without someone watching over your shoulder or holding your arm to steady you. I don't even like public restrooms, so you can understand how little I liked them watching me go.

My nurse checked me into my room and little did I realize that that would be last time I would see her before the end of her shift--I suppose I was doing better! Every couple of hours I would be visited by the PCA (personal care assistant) who would check my temperature, blood pressures, and administers my medicine. Other than that, I was on my own. I was able to get up, sit up, and walk down the halls. It was great to actually see outside! It was great to walk around and to stretch my legs. It was great to visit with family and friends for longer periods of time. And, come nightfall, it was great to actually close my eyes, lay on my side, and sleep, actually sleep for a couple of hours without interruption.

On Thursday morning, as promised the night before, the doctor came in early. He checked my heart and lungs, asked a few questions, and then sat on the foot of the bed and gave me a quick history of what had happened to my heart on Monday. He drew a diagram of my heart, talked about which vessels had been blocked and why he thought it had taken place. He talked about the meds I would be on, and the upcoming stress test I would have to take in 30 days. Most of what he said made sense, and I could see the importance to taking my meds faithfully, exercising, resting, reducing stress, and eating properly. The doctor told me how, when he was in the third grade, that while on vacation, his father suffered a heart attack--much like the one I had just had. He said, you'll be pleased to know that today, my father is 82 years old, and has never had another heart attack.

So, there's hope! I think if I do what I'm told, eat a little better, exercise a little more, and stop letting stress eat me alive, then I'll live to see a nice old age.

Thanks for all of the prayers you've said on my behalf. They have been felt, and they have been appreciated! I'm sure there are plenty of others who need prayer more than me at this point, so as you need to shift your prayers to them, I fully understand. You've done your part in helping me through one of the most serious crises of my young life, well, I'm not sure young applies any more. Let's just say I appreciate all of you!

Heart Attack--Part IV

Yesterday, I shared with you about my journey to the hospital in the ambulance and about my cath lab experience. Today, let me tell you a little about my experience in the Critical Care Unit (CCU). I think I was in the Critical Care Unit, it may have been the Cardiac Care Unit, I don't really know for sure, but there were people in my unit that were not heart patients, but all heart patients did go to my unit.

I had my heart attack at 1:30 PM. In less than three hours, I had been transported to the hospital, had a heart cath, and was wheeled the the CCU for the night. My hope was that I would spend a night in CCU and then go to the room the next day or so. Unfortunately, that plan failed to materialize. Maybe I was unrealistic in my thinking, but even the doctor implied that would be the schedule.

The CCU was an experience. Every 10 minutes or so I could count on a nurse coming in to read the monitor that I was hooked to. Let me set the scene. I was hooked to a heart monitor, that looked identical to the monitor above. The monitor recorded my pulse, blood pressure, oxygen level, breathing, and a few other things I didn't really understand. I had twelve pads adhered to my chest, with twelve leads running to the monitor. I also had an oxygen monitor attached to my left hand, a blood pressure cuff wrapped around my left arm, and an IV in my right arm. Needless to say, there wasn't much moving around in my unit. Let me also say that a key part of the monitoring, from my perspective, were the adhesive pads attached to my chest. Now, I realize that some women like men with hair on their chest and some women prefer men to have none. Well, God has blessed me with my fair share of chest hair. And, unfortunately, these adhesive pads were not made for people like me. Let's just say that the scene from the 40-Year-Old Virgin (I didn't see the movie, but I've seen that scene on various shows) was relived several times in my CCU room. My nurse said that there were men who regularly paid to have people pull their hair out by the roots--I reminded her each time she riped out my hair that I was not one of those men!

I settled down in the room about 4:30 and was able to see Tonya for the first time. Those were welcomed moments. I'm not sure Tonya has ever looked or sounded better than when she walked into the room. Those were precious moments and I think calmed a lot of our fears and concerns. We held hands, kissed, and just watched each other for the next few minutes. Tonya sat on the bed with me and we talked about all that had happened. As often happens, Tonya only knew bits and pieces of all that had taken place. I also had no idea what had happened to Evan after they rolled me out to the ambulance. So, those moments were husband and wife, mother and father, friend and friend talking, catching up, and celebrating the miracles that had taken place. And, the protection of God's hand upon me, Evan, and Tonya.

The specialness of the moment didn't last long, as the nursing staff, technicians, and others continued to come into the room to check my condition. And, we knew that Tonya needed to go take care of Evan. Fortunately, when she picked up Evan from the clinic, she was able to drop him off with one of my coworkers. This coworker is a wonderful Christian woman, who along with her husband, had served for many years in Europe as an international missionary. Their boys are now almost grown, one in college, and one a senior in college. They did a great job of keeping Evan--but I do think Evan pushed them to the limits. Dealing with an 8-month-old isn't quite the same as teenaged boys. But, maybe it was good practice for being grandparents one day!

The night in CCU was long. Somewhere around 8:00 PM, I began experiencing some discomfort in my chest. What was happening? Was I having another heart attack? Had something gone wrong in the cath lab? I didn't know. My heart was racing, that I did know. As I told the nurse, it felt as if the left side of my heart was fighting with the right side of my heart. Ironically, I could feel the onset of this battle before the monitor recorded it. The pain would last for a few seconds, be recorded on the monitor, and then would go away. That fight would happen every 30 minutes or so, and lasted until about midnight.

But, from what I soon discovered, that fight that began around 8:00 PM was simply the warmup for the main event to come. At midnight, the fight went into overdrive. The pain started, but the pain never went away. My heart raced and raced and raced, causing a great deal of soreness in my chest. I could not tell if I were having chest pains or if my chest was simply sore. Around 1:00 AM, the nurse called the doctor and discussed my situation. He changed a little of my medicine and told them to watch me closely--more closely than every 10 minutes! Oh yes, that is possible. Now, they were in my room every 5 minutes, at the max, checking my monitors, talking with me, etc.

This heart racing continued until the doctor arrived at 5:20 AM. I guess he got tired of being called at home, so he just came on in to check for himself. He was able to adjust the medicine once again, and the pain slowed greatly. What he found was that there were two irregular heartbeats going on. The first one, the feeling that the left side was fighting the right side, was nothing to worry about. The blood flow was being restored and the heart was adjusting to the new amount of blood. That was the pain I could feel. The other irregular heartbeat was much more serious and concerned him. That's what started around midnight. I can't remember the name he gave it, but even the name sounded serious.

Because of the irregular heartbeat, there would be no leaving CCU on Tuesday. I was going to be grounded for at least a day longer. Tuesday was some better, but I was at the point of exhaustion. I had not slept since I woke up at 5:15 AM Monday. My chest was sore. The meds were taking their toll on me. And, then the other shoe dropped, literally. Because of the meds I was on, my blood pressure began to drop. And, I don't mean a little. By nightfall, my heartbeat was down in the 80/50 range, and they were PLEASED to see it at that rate! When I was resting, my heartbeat actually dropped to 66/45 at one point. I'd say the meds overdid their work, wouldn't you?

So, most of Tuesday afternoon and evening were spent trying to regulate my heartbeat. I feel asleep, finally, and rested in the deepest sleep I had had in a long time! Maybe that's what a 66/45 heart beat will do to you!

However, what I had hoped would happen--being transferred to a room--didn't happen on Tuesday...or even through much of Wednesday morning. I was so disappointed because I knew that the longer I stayed in CCU, the longer it would be before I could go home, to be with Tonya and Evan.

Finally, on Wednesday morning I was transferred to the Cardiac Care Floor. I would be monitored in my room, for at least 24 hours before going home.

So, what did I learn during my stay in CCU? Several valuable lessons:

1) You'd better be sick if you are in CCU! If not, you soon will be. The pressure is intense in there. There's little food, no bathroom, and the bed is about as uncomfortable as sleeping on the floor! At one point, I told Tonya that if she wanted to rest, she could take my place and I would sleep on the floor! She didn't understand my point until she knew just how uncomfortable the bed really was.

2) Be prepared for noise! Wouldn't you think that floors don't need to be stripped and waxed every night in CCU? And, wouldn't you think that there had to be a better time than midnight both nights? I guess not, at least not at this hospital.

3) Nurses really need to remember where they are in CCU. My room was directly in front of the nurses station. I heard way too personal stories about things going on in their lives. I heard disagreements with floor nurses on bed counts, and how patients being moved out of CCU would hurt their daily counts. Patients really don't need to be involved in the politics of medical care. Treat the patient, take the personal and political somewhere else. I really didn't need to know all that I heard, and I really didn't care.

4) Just because a person is designated as a nurse doesn't mean that he or she has the nursing gene! Some people just don't have an ounce of compassion in them. I had some great nurses, and I had a couple who had never met anyone they cared about.

5) Never decide to go back to school to become a cardiac care doctor! Because, when you do, you will be on-call at times. And, on-call generally means midnight, 1:00 AM, and 3:00 AM calls to your house. And, certainly, waking up your wife!

6) Even though my wife and I eat fairly healthy, and the doctor says that I'll need to do even better, it is just wrong when you are served grits with no salt! Sorry, I guess I won't include grits in my new diet--because they just need some salt, any salt!

7) Be thankful for modern technology. A few decades ago, I would have had open heart surgery to correct the problem I had. Or, I would have died. Thank God for things man has learned!

Tomorrow, I'll share about my stay on the cardiac care floor and dismissal from the hosptial. Then, unless something changes, I'll only write one other post after that of the lessons I've learned during this whole experience.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for your prayers. Thanks for your ongoing friendship!

Heart Attack--Part III

Thank you for following my blogging journey of what has taken place this week. I'm finding that blogging is helping me process what has taken place and helping me to put into perspective all that God has done this week.

As promised in my last post, I mentioned that I would share with you about my journey to the hospital. Now, if you've followed my blog over the months, you've read about some of the experiences I've had as a volunteer fireman. I've driven firetrucks, water-tank trucks, and even our personnel carrier--that had previously used as an ambulance.

But, I must say that driving an emergency vehicle is nothing like riding in the back of an ambulance, strapped to a gurney. Looking out the back window was interesting, seeing where we have been, not where we were going. I listed to the siren and air horn as the driver moved through Birmingham traffic. Fortunately, most people moved out of the way, most but not all. The driver did the same thing we did when we drove fire trucks--if people don't move, sit on their bumper, blowing the airhorn as frequently as possible, and just hope and pray that they finally get the message the red lights, sirens and horns aren't just decorations! I am always amazed at how some people get their license to drive and not know what red or blue lights mean!

While in the back of the ambulance, the EMT and EMT-in-training monitored my condition, administered oxygen, checked my vital signs, regularly talked with me about how I was feeling and the level of pain I was having. The EMT also talked with the hospital, preparing them for my arrival.

To go from my house to the Urgent care to the hospital, you have to go over a "large" mountain. Not large as in the Grand Canyon, but large for our area. I must say that going down that hill, on the gurney, at what seemed to be 80 miles per hour was an interesting experience. I don't like roller coasters and fast rides at amusement parks. Finally, I couldn't look any more and just closed my eyes! That did help. Some. Not much. But some.

It took 10-12 minutes to get to the hospital, not bad for the way we had to go to get there. I didn't know what to expect at the ER. Would I have to wait in line? Would I be pushed into a corner and told that someone would be with me soon? I really didn't know what to expect.

I was surprised at what happened upon my arrival at the hospital. A person on the cardic team met the ambulance in the parking lot. His first question was: "Is this Mr. Heartsill?" Once he knew it was me, he immediately led the EMTs to take me to the cath lab. In a matter of minutes, I was moved from the gurney to the cath table. And, in less than an hour, the cath procedure was finished.

As a pastor, I had sat with many families as family members went through a heart cath. I knew what was coming, what to expect, and most of the language the doctor would use. None of it was really new to me. The only difference, this time it was me they were working on. I listened as the doctor worked. I heard most of what he and the others said they were doing. I felt the pressure in my leg as they worked. I heard the razors as they shaved me.

What the doctor found was simple. It seems that an artery that goes from the front to the back of my heart, a clot broke off of that artery, settling into another artery in the back of my heart. That clot caused 100% blockage in that second artery. That was the cause of my heart attack. The doctor inserted a "balloon" into my heart, made his way to my blocked artery, and completely opened it within a matter of minutes. Fairly quickly, the pain began to ease in my heart.

After he finished cleaning out that artery, he went back to check on the other narrowing of my artery. That part of the artery, where the clot came from, was still at 30% blocked. Doctors do not like to work on an artery that is less than 70% blocked, fearing that they will do more damage that the smaller blockage. Hence the need for medicines! Some of which I'll be on for the rest of my life.

The days ahead include heart meds, a stress test, countless trips to the doctor, and cardic rehab with diet and exercise. I suppose, keeping those things in perspective, they are far better than deciding where to bury my body and what suit to bury me in.

At this point, pray for the meds to do their job--to keep further clots from forming or breaking loose from the blockage. Pray that they will dissolve slowly with the meds.

In my next post, I'll share about my experience with the CCU! Trust me, before checking into the CCU, please make sure you are really, really, really sick! If not, it will just about kill you!

More to come!

Heart Attack--Part II

Well, by now, you know that this hasn't been a normal week around the Heartsill household. The week started normally enough, going to church on Sunday, hearing my wife sing on our church's praise team, eating Sunday lunch out, and spending time relaxing on Sunday afternoon and evening. Monday, my wife went to work, and Evan and I planned out a "Daddy Daycare" kind of day. It was a great weekend and a great start to the week.

All of that changed at 1:30 PM on Monday afternoon. At 1:30 (almost on the dot), I had a crushing pain in my chest. Almost immediately, the pain radiated to my jaw. I became nausated. I felt weak. I really had no choice but to sit down and catch my breath. Well, sitting didn't help. Not a bit. So, I tried to lay in the bed for a few minutes. But, laying down was not an option. I couldn't do it!

Almost immediately, I knew what was happening. If someone tells you that they had a heart attack and didn't know it, then they are a far better person than me! I knew immediately. I've seen enough commericals on TV that I knew what to do. I went to the bathroom and found an aspirin. Unfortunately, the aspirin didn't help.

That's when the reality kicked in. My wife was 30+minutes away, in a teacher training meeting. I didn't know whether or not I would be able to locate her. Also, I was upstairs. And Evan and I were alone. At 8 months old, there was not much Evan could do to help, but I knew I had to take care of him no matter what! So, what should I do? Call 911? If I did, what would the firemen and EMTs do with Evan? Would they call Child Protective Services? If I called 911, I also realized that I was upstairs and they would have difficulty geting me downstairs, not to mention the fact that the front door was locked and deadbolted as well. So, I knew they would have to kick in the door, which would leave the house exposed to whatever and would leave Tonya to deal with the mess.

So, I picked Evan up and we headed downstairs. I laid him on the floor, and tried to call my wife. No answer on her cell phone. I knew I couldn't wait to talk to her. I remembered that about 2 miles from our house is an Urgent Care facility. So, I loaded Evan into his car seat, believing that I could drive him the short 2 miles. I also knew that if I started to feel worse that I could pull over and dial 911. On the way to the doctor's office, Tonya called. How does a husband tell his wife he is having a heart attack and not frighten her beyond reason? How does a father tell a mother that their 8 month old son is okay, but not sure what to do with him? There's no way, trust me. Tonya dropped everything and headed toward the Urgent Care clinic.

When I arrived at the clinic, I walked past 12 people sitting in the lobby, those waiting patiently to see the doctor. I leaned over the counter and told the person behind the counter that I was having serious chest pains. The nurses came out, and took me and Evan to the back. Within a minute, the doctor was there, I was being stripped naked, was getting an IV, having a nitro patch placed on my chest, and having an EKG run. The nurse didn't wait for the doctor to read the strip, she immediately said, "You're having a heart attack. What hospitial do you want to be taken to?" Within three minutes, the ambulance was there. Here's another piece of the God-thing. The ambulance for our area is normally about 5-10 minutes from that clinic, but they were at the fire station resupplying their equipment. That fire station is less than 1/4 mile from the clinic!

The nurse tried to reach Tonya on the phone, but she was in a dead spot and didn't answer (maybe we need to switch to Verzion). A minute or so later, she tried again, this time reaching her and explaining a little of the situation. Within 9-10 minutes of arriving at the clinic, I was on my way to the hospital. Here's another God thing. Two young nurses came over. One said, "I'm due in January. I also have a little boy at home." Would it be okay if we take care of Evan until his mother gets here?" The other nurse said, "I have two children as well, I think we will know what to do!" The nurses and their staff had begun meeting my physical needs and now they were taking care of my wife and son--I couldn't ask for more.

Well, you now know a little more of my journey. I plan to blog about it for several more days. I have much to say and much praise to express. Bear with me if you will. Before long, I'll return to more regular programming. But, that's days away.

So, hopefully you will say, after reading this, that I was very calm through the whole process. What caused me to be so calm? Well, I could say that it was my training as a pastor, or even my training as a volunteer fireman--and I'm sure those things contributed to the calmness. But, I think an even greater answer was knowing that God was in control of everything. He knew long before I felt the first pain what was going to take place. He had prepared me, in numerous ways, to be ready for what was to come. So, with Him in charge, I really didn't need to fret. That's another God thing.

I'm stronger this morning and had a good night's sleep. I'm still very weak and am having to adjust to taking 4 meds! Thanks for your prayers and words of encouragement!

In my next blog, I think I'll share my thoughts about my ambulance ride and arrival in the ER.

Heart Attack

Monday, October 13, 2008, will go down in my life as "one of those days." Do you know the kind I'm taking about? It will be like the day the space shuttle exploded and Martin Luther King, Jr., was murdered. While the history books will not note any thing significant to October 13, 2008, me and my family will.

My son's daycare was closed on Monday, so I took off work to be with him. We were having a great day. We had gone grocery shopping at Wally World. We had done a few "honey-do" list items. Evan had taken two good naps that morning and was getting ready for his next nap, probably to come around 2:00 PM.

Unfortunately, we didn't make it to his 2:00 PM nap. At 1:30 PM, I began experiencing pain in my chest unlike anything I've ever felt in my life. Within a couple of minutes, I knew beyond a shadow of doubt what was happening--I was having a heart attack.

Needless to say, the last few days have been weird days. I am finally at home this morning and am feeling pretty good, considering where I've been the last few days.

In the weeks ahead, I have no doubt that I'll fill in the details of what all took place. Let's just say that I'm okay and the doctor has given me a fairly good report.

Some of you knew a little of what was happening...others just thought I'd given up on blogging! So much for your wishful thinking! :)

If you knew what was happening and prayed, thank you! God pulled all of the pieces of the puzzle together for me and caused miracle after miracle to take place during the entire process. What do you do with an 8-month old, when you are alone with him, and having a heart attack? Thankfully, God took care of that for us.

If you are just now reading about this, and are a praying person, I'd appreciate any and all prayers. If you would, please keep my wife, Tonya, in your prayers. She has the difficult task of dealing with me for the next few days! That's not going to be an easy job!

I'll be back blogging soon. I'm kind of grounded to the house until Monday, when I hope to return to work.

Steve