Tragic Stories Leave Their Stamp

A few years back I kept thinking I was having a heart attack.

I had all the early warning signs... or so I thought.

Apparently I was having some muscle pain from my new pacemaker.

new pacemaker in. old pacemaker out.

My cardiologist reassured me that the likelihood of ME having a heart attack was very VERY slim.

He said, quote, "Jess, honey, with you're heart condition, you having a heart attack is really not possible.  More than likely, you're heart will just stop."

Yes, my cardiologist is VERY frank with me.  

That's what I LOVE about him.  He doesn't sugar coat things. He tells me how it is.

I LIKE knowing EVERYTHING.

Last Wednesday Roger found out that one of his class mates came home from work to find his 29 year old wife dead.  She was on the couch. He thought she was asleep.  Her heart had stopped.  Yes, she had a heart condition.  Who knows how long their little 18 month old had been walking around the house alone.  

Their loss, the suddenness of it, the way it happened, has hit close to home for me, for us

I try not to let my heart condition affect the way I go about life, but let's face it, it does.  

The choices that I have made are a direct result of me being born with transposition of the great vessel. 

I've always known that each day is a gift.  I've always known that things can change for the worse at any second and to appreciate what I have been given.  Even at a young age I had these beliefs.

When you spend a good majority of your time sitting in a hospital bed, surrounded by people experiencing great loss, you grow up really quick.
You begin to see life for what it REALLY is.

Thus the reason why I got married so young.
Why wait?
Tomorrow might not be here.
I love you, you love me, lets get this show on the road.

Thus the reason why I opted to stay home with the two children that I was told I would never be able to have.

My heart condition is also a big the reason why I am going to Seminary; I've always wanted to be a Hospital Chaplain in a Pediatric Hospital.

I remember being in the pediatric ICU as a young girl, watching parents grieving over the loss of their child, wanting so bad to unhook my monitors to sit with them, hug them, pray with them.

Hearing of a young mother passing away has been difficult for me.
I guess it is for everyone that hears of such a tragic story.

Like I have mentioned before, when Paul was a baby I started writing him letters. I do the same for Anna.  I've always been a tad bit afraid that I will not be here to watch my children grow.

But I can't get too consumed with the what if.
It begins to eat me up inside.  Then I start getting REALLY pissed off at people who were born perfectly healthy and don't take care of the healthy body and heart that they were given. Here I am working my butt off trying to make sure I get plenty of exercise, rest and proper food while they  treat their perfectly healthy bodies like trash cans.

I digress.

I've struggled about whether or not to type out this blog.
I've never met Roger's class mate and I never met his wife, but this tragic story has left a stamp on me.