It was now Saturday morning January 12, 2013, and I was expecting visitors today. I ate a good breakfast and decided, since I was no longer tethered to an I-V or the stationary heart monitor – thank God for portable technology, to move to the chair in my room. I had my new Kindle Fire (a Christmas present from my family) with its bright yellow case and a black Moleskine reporter style journal pad on which to write. Reading, reflecting, praying, listening and writing are sacred times for me. And those moments of solitude with God were helping me to ground my soul in a familiar relationship with him after a few days of unfamiliar experiences. I was feeling alive and connected.
The medical staff was very pleased to see me sitting in a chair. They took it as a very positive sign that I was beginning to recover. Also, while I was sitting, I received my second visit from Chaplain Josef who worked at the hospital and had found out about me from the Jesuit Brothers at Villa Saint-Martin where I had stayed earlier in the week. He asked how I was doing and we talked about Henri Nouwen, Jean Vanier who he had met and the blessing of God. His English was not so good, but we made a spiritual connection through the language of faith that was warm and encouraging. I was very thankful for his visit.
Curt arrived before lunch, as did my friends Gustavo and Paola. Gus had bought and brought me three newspapers as I had requested. I had arrived in Montreal the Saturday before and had spent the evening meeting Gus for the first time and reconnecting with Paola. She had gone to college at Oglethorpe University in Atlanta and attended the same church my family was in and had actually babysat our boys once or twice with her friend Katie. Gustavo and Paola are natives of Venezuela who had immigrated to Canada a year ago.
On the previous Sunday, I had gone to a church meeting in a downtown Montreal cinema hall, had an amazing brunch, visited an informative and educational archaeological and historical museum and eaten frozen maple syrup with snow, all with Paola and Gus. They had been amazing hosts and tour guides. We had experienced most of the day walking in a beautiful snowfall. And, actually, on that Sunday evening we had spoken our farewells and didn’t expect to see each other again for months. Of course, we would continue to connect via Facebook. And Facebook is how they found out about my heart attack. On Thursday night, Jenny used my account to send a message to Paola to tell her what had happened and to get them in the loop. Being a social media activist has its rewards!
So, a few days later, here we are in CCU Room 9 and they are watching me eat lunch and we’re talking about the events of the last few days. They were so caring and loving and offered to help in any way. And we would definitely avail ourselves of their hospitality in the next two days.
Dr. Lalonde was off for the weekend and another cardiologist was leading the care team. By the afternoon, Curt’s anxiety regarding my being able to travel on Tuesday and his being able to travel today or tomorrow was quite strong. He even tried to get a commitment from the chief cardiologist that I would definitely be discharged on Monday and be cleared to fly home on Tuesday. This guarantee would allow us to purchase a plane ticket for me, and my wife Jenny and son Jameson, to travel home to Atlanta. Dr. Lalonde had told me on Friday that he thought it would be very probable for me to be discharged on Monday and likely that I could travel via airplane on Tuesday. But, I don’t know if I would make that bet. I was feeling good, but wasn’t sure what to expect over the next few days and weeks. At some point, we came to a decision to buy the tickets. So, that was done.
I talked to Jenny a couple of times and exchanged text messages with her on Friday and Saturday. She and Jameson would be flying to Montreal on Sunday and arrive around lunchtime. And I think I talked to Justin and Jed sometime on Friday evening. It was a challenge to remember what day it was as time moved on in my hospital stay.
