Early on Friday, one of the nurses, Lind, said that I was on the list today to have another angioplasty procedure to address the right-side artery that was 70% blocked. Dr. Lalonde had been successful in having a conversation with someone with my insurance company, and even “assigned a case number,” but there was no decision making authority given to the customer service rep. Dr. Lalonde had laid out the option of transferring me to a hospital in Atlanta if my insurance company had wanted that. Neither of us was aware that south of the border, Jenny had also spoken with the insurer and found out that they would cover my care just as if I was in the US. Sacré-Coeur Hospital was, of course, “out-of-network” but the cost of medical care was so much lower in Canada that it would prove to be a windfall for us and our insurance company.
Eventually, I decided to follow the direction and protocol of the cardiology professionals at Sacré-Coeur and do the second stent. It was like I had dropped the puck for a hockey game. Very quickly, my lunch was cancelled and preparation began for me to be taken into the pre-op area. Curt left for lunch and at 1:30 pm I was carted to what some hospital’s call the cath lab patient lounge. This is where patients who have scheduled angioplasties wait for the next available doctor to work his/her magic.
Today, I was told, there were two cardiologists doing a tag-team rotation in placing stents in overcrowded arteries and likely preventing future heart attacks. My new BFF Dr. Charron was one of the doctors in the rotation. I indicated to Lind that, everything else being equal (meaning I had no emergency), I’d prefer him since he had already seem my arteries and heart up close and personal. She said that she’d pass the word.
As I lay on the gurney, small preparations were being in a casual and unhurried fashion. Quite different from Wednesday evening. A new I-V was attached and I signed a form permitting the procedure. I had also talked with Dr. Charron and agreed to pay him with cash for his work in ostensibly saving my life and now preparing me for clear arteries for the future. Since he was an independent contractor to the hospital, and would bill me separately, the potential for him not getting paid was his concern. He had sent bills to US patients in the past and not gotten reimbursed for his time and talent. That seemed hardly fair to me and I gave him my word that I would pay him before being discharged. I figured that was a pretty good incentive for him to do another good job. He had already explained the risk of the procedure and my only interest was in the percentage of patients who have a heart attack. He said that it was 5%. Again, if he wanted to get paid, then he better not let me be in that statistic! His professional services in doing my angiogram and angioplasty in the emergency mode was $1,800 and the planned one he was about to do was $800. Experts have told me that his $2,600 bill could’ve been $15,000 in the US.
As I laid on the bed in pre-op, I was still trying to take it all in. I was wondering when Jenny should fly to Montreal. It just seemed odd that on my, and soon Jenny’s, only visit to Montreal that I would develop chest pains and then a heart attack. Perhaps it was the connections I would make with Nathan, Paola, Gus, and Curt that were important. “That important?” I asked. Given that I was apparently going to have a heart attack at some point, was there a way to use the location of Montreal as a rallying point for others?
What is the providence of God that orchestrates details like this?
This is probably a good place to mention an example of providencial details that I’d experienced in the midst of this life event. Over the past few months, I had been reading Sabbatical Journey by Henri Nouwen. This ended up being Henri’s journal of the last year of his life on earth. About a month after he had completed his sabbatical and returned to L’Arche Daybreak near Toronto, he made a quick trip to his Dutch homeland to meet a film crew with whom he was producing a documentary. The subject of the film was the Rembrandt painting Return of the Prodigal Son that was hanging in The Hermitage in St. Petersburg, Russia and had been such a powerful image in Henri’s life. While still in Holland, Henri had a heart attack. Within a few hours, my friend Nathan Ball, who had been one of Henri’s closest and best friends for the previous 12 years and was community director of L’Arche Daybreak , was on a flight to visit Henri in the hospital. After a few difficult days, Henri’s health improved and it looked as though he was going to make a good recovery. Sadly, after a couple of good days he suffered a second heart attack and died at 64-years-old.
In the past five years, I’ve read over 30 of Henri Nouwen’s books and feel like he has been a major influence in my walk with God, family, acquaintances and friends. Nathan has been instrumental in guiding the Henri Nouwen Society and Henri’s Legacy. Nathan wrote the Afterword to Sabbatical Journey. The night before my heart attack, I shared some of my connections with Henri and the impact of his writings on my life with Nathan. I asked Nathan about that last week of Henri’s life and if Henri knew he had heart problems. Henri had not been aware of any heart problems. He talked about the ways that Henri had made commitments to slow down his activity and change his work patterns. Nathan told me about the recent radio documentary and biography that had been released in Canada. He also said that he would send me some copies of books that I might not have seen. It was a special conversation for me and one that I will cherish for a long time.
Needless to say, we had no idea what would happen the next day and that Nathan would be holding my arm as I entered the hospital. As I reflect on that 24-hour period, I’m amazed at the mercy and charity of God that gave me a gift in the midst of my loss. I will always appreciate the presence of Curt and Nathan in my very difficult situation. It was a gift from God and a picture of true community.
