How many apples have I eaten in this life? I remember climbing a neighbors tree at nine with pocket knife and sampling slivers of green apples in the summer heat. Or biting into crisp Red Delicious apples fresh from the branch in Adams County orchards. Looking at an apple, a more regular component now of my new post-heart attack diet, I could see past the red fruit to the timeline of my life.
I’ve read that regardless of age, a life threatening illness turns people into explorers of mortality, searchers for meaning, waking up to a more authentic, meaningful life.
Whatever that means.
Four days after my heart attack I was back on the Vespa and exploring my new physical limits — mostly to keep my heart rate below 80 beats per minute — pretty easy when lounging on the back of a scooter. So far my recovery has been quick and without incident.
Speaking with my primary care doctor on Monday evening he said I was lucky to be lying in bed in the ER with an IV port in my arm when the heart attack occurred. When questioned why the cardiologist who worked on me said I could drive and ride in three days while everyone else said two or three weeks he explained the difference between someone intimately knowledgeable of my condition and those delivering the general, cover their ass message.
I felt fine on the road.
Mindful of my current situation I didn’t ride far, just a few errands around town and some mild meanderings. My accountant has a new Triumph Rocket. While we talked about motorcycles and scooters he called the local Piaggio dealer for a quote on an MP3-500 with ABS. For now, the Vespa continues to deliver what I need.
Riding has always provided a gentle pathway into the noise in my head. That aspect continues to be important.
After two days in the ICU I was moved to the personal care unit where I had more freedom to move around the hospital. Aside from the initial drama I felt relatively healthy during my stay, a marked difference from what I saw in other rooms as I walked the halls. If you feel you need to be reminded of the finite nature of life just visit a hospital.
Life persists. I stopped to see my granddaughter and saw in her all the lives that went before. Each of us carries a part of all those mortal beings in a long chain of existence. In an instant I could see where I came from and where I was going.
I was happy.
Stopping to smell the roses, or in this case Dame’s Rocket, is more than a tired old aphorism, it’s a prescription of change. It’s simple instruction asks only that for a moment I abandon what’s on my mind and acknowledge the world in front of me.
Riding the Vespa slowly along a country road I was struck by the sights and fragrances of spring in full bloom and allowed myself a moment to breathe it in.
I made a commitment to rest when I left the hospital. The meaning of “rest” is different for everyone and I continue to explore its application in my life. Not bounded by convention, a short ride on the Vespa can be as restful as time in an easy chair. For me right now, it’s bounded by physical good sense and a close eye on how I’m feeling. Being honest with those assessments paid off in the ER and hopefully will during my cardiac rehabilitation.
There are more than 118,000 miles of roads in Pennsylvania that don’t include these unpaved and unsigned farm lanes that crisscross the rural countryside. There’s much exploring left to do.
While it was difficult to believe I had a heart attack it’s even harder to wrap my head around being a grandfather. I remember so clearly my daughter like this, her warm head in my hand as she slept. In an instant memories flood over me and I understand how much has happened, how much there might be left, and my place in the story.
I would like to think it doesn’t take a heart attack to become explorers of mortality and that there are other ways to wake up to the world. Riding already had begun to shake me awake. Cutting off blood flow to my heart just added to the shaking.
That was beautiful. Thank you.
Thank you for your kind words Richard.
Some thoughts on mortality. At 27 I was diagnosed with a heart condition requiring a pacemaker. I had just had the third new one implanted six months ago. Being under a Cardiologists care is a drag. It has, however, reminded me of one thing every day. Live life and when your number is up, it’s over. Not long after getting the pacemaker I jumped on my Kawasaki and toured Canada with a friend.
I try not to regret things but it’s not always easy. Having to change the way you live because of a medical condition is a drag, especially one like mine that likely could have been prevented by making different choices, choices that I was fully aware of. But you’re right, things happen and the important part is to live life.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts on mortality. I appreciate them.
In my early sixties, I ended up in an ICU for 19 days. They didn’t know what was wrong with me – but I was mighty sick. It took them 11 days to figure it out, and another 8 to get the meds stabilized. On day five my heart stopped, and being in an ICU was the perfect place to have that happen, as specialists came running in and had me jump-started again in just a few minutes, with no damage done. Had that happened at home or elsewhere, I would have expired.
So now I remind myself every day that. . . “The past is history – the future’s a mystery – today is a GIFT – that’s why they call it the present!”
So for me, every day is a gift, and I’m still riding — going on now for 45+ years.
Your quote, “The past is history – the future’s a mystery – today is a GIFT – that’s why they call it the present!” sums things up nicely and is a good reminder of the value of life.
Hard not to think that we’ve been given an extra “gift” when a heart attack happens with trained medical personnel at arm’s reach. Now to make the most of that gift, part of which is to keep riding!
Beautifully written, Steve, and a very healthy take on the situation (no pun intended). There is only one point I would like to make, not as criticism but as something that has been on my mind for a long time.
I do not believe that it is that simple – eat healthy, stay healthy. Yes, healthy lifestyle choices are a good idea but over the last 15 or so years I have observed our society going more and more in the direction of “What? You have cancer, had a heart attack etc? You must have led an unhealthy life. Had you made better dietary choices you would not be sick now.” With it comes a whole lot of guilt on the sick person’s part and way too much largely unfounded judgement on the part of others as well as a decrease of empathy when illnesses are more and more regarded as the ill person’s own fault.
I just wish we could let each other be a bit more and acknowledge the true complexity of such illnesses or events such as the one you just went through – genes being one of them, among many other factors.
With that said, I deeply admire how you are able to reflect on the situation so profoundly and positively and most of all so shortly after it all happened. Ride on, Steve. I most certainly will keep reading about it…
Melu,
You are absolutely right in your observations about the sick person being blamed for the situation they’re in. It’s not fair, short sighted and prejudices their care and support. Medical issues are never simple but I’ve seen doctors and civilians try and dismiss the situation a person finds themselves in to diet, weight, medications, etc., without really looking at the deeper problems.
While my medical event was relatively simple the fact underlying why it happened are not. My psoriatic arthritis may well be more of a cause than the crappy diet I consumed but we’ll never know for sure. So it only makes sense that I adjust my diet and exercise more. Actually, I don’t think I can exercise less.
I really appreciate your comments, especially about guilt. Someone close to me has suffered from unfair and inappropriate applications of guilt and simplistic statements that I think I should write a bit more about it. As you say, wouldn’t it me nice if we could acknowledge the complexity of people’s situation and not make it harder on them.
Good Stuff Steve,
Thanks Mike.
Martha and I are living life under the “enjoy the present, tomorrow may not come as planned” philosophy….kind of goes with this excellent post Steve.
You and Martha were exposed to the FUBAR philosophy on a professional basis so learning how to enjoy the present is probably a lot easier than for the rest of us. I’m trying to get where you are though!
Steve
I was very pleased to read such a positive article.
My own journey progress can simply be descibed thus: Lyme disease > M.E. > cancer (thankfully now in remussion). My appreciation of the simple things in life escalated in step with this progression. I sometimes wonder if, had I not had these drawbacks, I would ever have taken the time to study and fully enjoy the wildlife in my garden, for example. I think you’ve come to many of the same conclusions as I did, but – my word – your beautiful account was truly uplifting. An excellent post on so many levels.
Thanks for sharing, my friend, and enjoy the ride.
Safe roads.
Keith
I wonder sometimes how many people have had experiences and insights like ours but keep it to themselves. Writing on Scooter in the Sticks is, in part, a lesson for me in being in touch with what a think and feel and learning how to share it, if only in the digital ether. I’ve discussed privacy concerns with others but have come to conclude that these kinds of personal challenges don’t warrant privacy for me, but are an opportunity to find strength in a struggle.
I’m glad you shared your story Keith. I hope others find the support in it that I have.
And thanks for the kind words about the post!
Very nicely written and thoughtful post. I had some thoughts of my mortality several years back when I was diagnosed with colon cancer. Nowhere near as frightening as what you recently went through but a good time to think about life. These days I’ve been thinking more about my “work life” and all of the people and situations that I’ve run into in the last 40+ years. Some things have really changed…
So now where are you going to ride to if the diners aren’t the destination? 😉
Like you, the heart attack has me thinking about a lot of things — work life being one. Not sure where I’ll end up with everything but it’s an interesting puzzle.
Riding to diners is going to be really tough. I was at a restaurant this afternoon and there was NOTHING I could eat that fit into the “healthy” category. Kind of surprising actually.
I will push on though and see what tomorrow brings. Hope things are going well with you Richard!
Steve,
I was thinking of you Monday while I was in the ER hooked up to an EKG. It turned out not be a hart attack but a bad reaction to a new medication. It has been an interesting experience to see how my has health changed my world over the last 13 months.
You are a lucky man to have such a lovely granddaughter.
Glad you didn’t have a heart attack Mike though bad reactions to medications can be dangerous too. Physical health is easy to take for granted until you can’t…
Steve … above all else your granddaughter is beautiful and lucky to have a grandpa (and grandma) who recognized the signs of heart attack. I suspect sharing story will help many more grandpas to enjoy their granddaughters.
Thank would be a nice, positive outcome of the experience. Thanks for sharing that!
Steve over the last five or six years you have been a guide to me. With this chapter the lessons continue. Thank you.
You’re too kind David.
Life is fragile. We know this, but only when it suddenly changes do we KNOW it. Now comes an opportunity to live even more well. May this be a blessing. It sounds like it is.
Nice being able to juxtaposition your experience the sudden constriction of the future in your ER experience with the expansiveness of the new granddaughter. Ah, the dance.
Thanks for sharing,
~keith
The dance, like the journey, is exquisite isn’t it?
As I wait for my new leg to be built, I find the Piaggio MP3 is starting to make a whole lot of sense for me. While a new 2015 model is too rich for my blood, I’ve noticed used ones are quite cheap. And I don’t know where the idea of the 250 version being a slug came from… I rode one at Amerivespa in Seattle and found it quite peppy. We shall see…
__Orin
Scootin’ Old Skool
I really enjoyed riding the MP3-250 and didn’t feel as if it had any performance issues — was peppy and went as fast as I needed to go. Certainly not a racer or freeway machine but that kind of riding doesn’t fit in my world too well.
Good luck with the new leg and I hope you find the machine you want.
steve
Steve, I must have missed the heart attack post or is this it here? Anyways, I was shocked to read it as I value your post, writings , thoughts and all your input. Please take further care of yourself.
Brent
Hello Brent,
The heart attack post was titled ACCEPTING THE PATH AHEAD. It was an interesting experience and wake up call for a lot of bad decisions in regard to food, exercise and stress. Still working through those now.
steve