Luckily, we were on the highway headed west from Battle Creek towards Kalamazoo. Suddenly, Dennis said he did not feel well; his arms hurt; he felt as if someone were trying to inflate a football in his chest. I asked him if he wanted me to drive (not a terribly good idea because I have been having some dizziness problems lately). He said, "Yes." Non-verbal communication: something was seriously wrong.
We were a mile away from an exit - a very long mile. Everything slowed down. Finally, the exit loomed before us. Seconds ticked. I watched him. He seemed confused. Realizing that he was not going to stop, I said, "Pull over. This is a good spot." Knowing that I could not ambulate around the car on my own, Dennis got out of the car and walked over to the passenger's seat while I scooted over to the driver's seat. As the passenger door closed, Dennis slumped into the seat and said, "I need to go to the hospital."
Following Siri's directions, we arrived at the hospital 15 minutes later. During that time, Dennis appeared to have passed out. How long? Time had stopped. Then, he was back.
We had our two grandchildren in the car - seven year old Samuel and three year old Rosie. Both children were quiet and attentive. Too young to understand but wise enough to know what they needed to do.
As I put the van into Park, I turned to Samuel and said, "Samuel, go into the Emergency Room and tell them that your grandfather is having chest pains." My Little Hero walked into the sliding doors and returned immediately with a nurse pushing a wheelchair. She opened the van door and whisked Dennis away. I do not know what we would have done if Samuel had not been with us. The fact that he was in the car with us and able to act in such an adult manner and with such composure was a blessing from God, my Big Hero.
Abandoning the van in the no parking zone with the two children in tow, I rolled into the Emergency Room. It was packed. Both waiting areas were full and people were standing around for lack of seats. Checking in at the front desk, they hurried us through the crowd to an area where Dennis was in a glass-enclosed room with at least seven to nine people hovering around him.
Immediately upon my arrival, a man came out of the room and introduced himself as Doctor "Somebody" and said, "Dennis is having a heart attack. We are waiting for the stent team to arrive." I took note of the present perfect tense of the word "have." The three of us waited patiently.
At that moment, I became acutely aware of my surroundings and that I had options of how to behave, how to interpret my situation, of how to define myself. I chose to be calm, to trust the doctors, and to trust God. "I am not in control of this situation. I can do nothing to change the outcome. My story is intertwined with Your story. I have peace." I prayed.
Two days later, mere moments of time, Dennis was home. The cause of the heart attack: one of his arteries had been blocked 100%. Because of my two heroes, we were able to get Dennis to the hospital in the early stages of his heart attack. Consequently, Dennis has no heart damage nor brain damage from the lack of oxygen.
According to an article in the New York Times, "Dr. Kenneth L. Baughman, section leader in the division of cardiovascular medicine at the Brigham and Women's Hospital n Boston, stresses the importance of quick treatment in the case of a heart attack, which leaves the heart muscle starved for oxygen. 'Time is muscle, he said.'"
Time is muscle. Time was the gift given to us by my two heroes.
