From Lauren in California - 'My Miracle Heart'

"I received a call from a stranger about my inheritance. That's how I found out about my father's sudden, unexpected death. He was 53. He died from an aortic aneurism from a rare genetic heart disease called Marfan Syndrome. I went to the Chief of Cardiology at Cedars Sinai in Beverly Hills and found out that I had Marfans too.

Marfans is a genetic heart condition for which there is no cure, which often results in death from an aortic aneurism. It often strikes people early in life, usually in their 20s. I was 28.

I was devastated. I had 1st degree heart block and a heart murmur. I would need a pace maker as the heart block progressed to the 2nd degree, but the real concern was my aortic valve and the possibility of a rupture. I wouldn't be able to have children. My entire life to this point, I had been extremely athletic in competitive sports, from volleyball to swim teams to college tennis. I was completely into nutrition and fitness. After the news, I was truly terrified. Where I used to view myself as strong and positive, I now saw myself as weak and fragile, with what I was told was a "ticking time bomb in my chest". While I tried to stay my usual positive self, in the back of my mind I was always aware of the imminent danger and my inescapable mortality.

I lived with this fear, getting checked by my cardiologist twice a year for years, until I saw The Secret. I was due for another visit to the cardiologist right around that time. I was awestruck by the woman who cured herself from cancer and the man who healed himself from the plane crash. I decided right then and there that I was going to heal my heart. I believed it and knew it was possible.

I quickly banished any negative thoughts about my heart and refused to let them enter my mind anymore. Every night as I laid down in my bed, I placed my right hand on my heart and visualized a strong heart, and rehearsed in my mind my heart beating strong, looking and sounding the way a strong healthy heart was supposed to. Every morning when I woke up I said, "Thank you for my strong, healthy heart." I visualized the cardiologist telling me that I was cured. I didn't tell anyone what I was doing for fear of judgment or disbelief. I postponed my cardiologist appointment for about 4 months to give myself enough time to try this.

I went to the cardiologist, with my medical file full of past electrocardiograms and echocardiograms confirming my physical heart problems. Nervous and excited, I tried to calm myself as I got hooked up to the EKG, then got the sonogram.

The cardiologist came in with the test results completely dumbfounded. There was NO sign of a 1st degree heart block. There was NO heart murmur. There was NO expansion in my aorta. He checked and re-checked the old tests and the new one, now showing a perfectly healthy heart with no physical symptoms of Marfans! He had no explanation. I was ecstatic, but honestly, I was not surprised. It was exactly as I had envisioned. I literally RAN out of the cardiologist office across the lot to my car, feeling stronger and more alive than I ever have in my life."

 

One of the funniest stories I've ever heard about someone I don't know

 

 

 

Thank you to everyone for your well wishes and condolences.  Things are fine.  We had a good month to say goodbye and prepare ourselves.  My brother, Warren, did this for my Dad.  Click on the movie.

Less than a month ago my Dad went in for a CAT scan.  Less than a week later the doc's office called and said he'd better come in.  That's when we heard the news.  The tumors were back.  A modified version of chemo was planned for the next Wednesday.  That Friday my Dad was back in the hospital.  Things were worse than we thought.  The decision was made that weekend to stop all treatment and call in Hospice.

 

It was the right decision.  But now time is extremely short.  I don't know how much longer, but I hate to see him suffer so.  I hope he doesn't suffer too long.

 

It's hard when a parent dies.  You get a feeling like part of your own personal history is dying.  And then there is the sense that YOU are next in the line.  The next generation down that will inevitably meet the same fate.  But as hard as it is to see your parent grow old and die I know that burying a child would be much much worse.

 

It's a hard thing to be there with your beloved dying father.  But, I've discovered, it's even harder to be the one that's NOT there.  When I have to work, or for some other reason stay away, I find myself being MORE upset.  Maybe because I am losing moments with him that I will never get back.  I've found that if I'm there I'm more content.

 

 

 

When life starts to ebb and fade it is a natural reaction to pull back, withdraw.  Death makes us uncomfortable.

In ages past death was a natural part of life. Sitting up with the body in the front parlor was a natural and normal occurrence. With the advent of modern medicine, where house-calls ceased and those in physical decline were whisked away to hospitals, death became a mysterious and scary thing.  Something to be avoided, shunned, not spoken of. It is a sad thing, really. 

The dying have so much to offer the living.

Spending time with a dying man gives you an enriched depth of knowledge about how to go about living.  And it matters not whether that man has lived a glorious full life or if regret lines their every thought.  There are rich blessings to be learned from either.

When in the presence of a life well lived you learn.  It is inspiring to hear reminiscences of full healthy relationships, of the joy of being with someone or doing joyful activities.  It inspires.  When you leave his bedside you find yourself driving a little slower, looking around a little more, being connected to the world around you in a more intimate way.  Suddenly the petty annoyances that irk don’t loom so large; achy backs, overdue bills, and the car in traffic that cuts you off. You have an inner peace that everything is okay.  You are still living, still able to do.

And when you spend time with a dying person who is filled with regret you use their angst as a marker for your own life. 

Do I work too many hours?

Do I appreciate the people in my life as they are without trying to constantly change them?

Time for the dying is a precious thing.  It is spent wisely.  There is no wasted energy spent holding grudges, arguing politics, wanting to buy…  Priorities have a way of refining.  Impurities are cast aside and a crystallization of character happens.  Words of caring and love are freely given.  Tears are shed.

Sometimes the deepest lessons are learned sitting in peaceful silence, holding hands or stroking a brow.  Human contact is one of man’s greatest needs.  With the dying you can embrace it once again without the awkwardness that is present during times of busy health.

And that’s why dying with someone can be a good thing.