Grief is a state-of-mind that everyone must deal with at some point in their life. When we hear the word grief, we automatically think of death. That is how we are wired/programmed in western society. However, grief can refer to many aspects of tragedy.

Sometimes it can be a struggle to overcome the simplest of daily tasks like getting out of bed, doing your personal hygiene, or even eating.   

It can come in ripples or even like waves crashing on a beach. Without warning, you can’t prepare for it. We try.    

I am fine. 

Nothing’s new. 

I feel great.   

In western society, we generally ask how someone is doing. If we are REALLY honest, most of the time we simply ask out of social etiquette. We don’t want to know. We don’t want to invest in someone else’s problems or drama.

Why? Because we struggle with our own mess and grief. It’s almost impossible to think about supporting someone else with their grief.

And yet, there is healing when we cope with our grief and can share it with others. Maybe someone else will read that story and someone will benefit from it.    

I am not alone. 

They get what I am feeling.     

My disclaimer is that nobody has it “all together” and if someone benefits from reading my story, then it will have served its purpose.   

This is my story.

***

I spent Christmas 2023 and NYE 2023, in two different hospitals, dealing with swollen feet and legs. It was a struggle just to stand and walk. I didn’t know what was happening to my body. I felt helpless and even useless. I was a victim of my situation, and I allowed myself to be sucked in deeper.  

Nurses came in every two to three hours checking my vitals, taking blood and joking with me. They could see I was scared and worried.   

I was two months from turning 52 and I was told I had heart failure. I had Congestive Heart Failure (CHF). My heart could not properly pump fluids away. My heart was drowning. The only way to determine the amount of damage was to have an angioplasty test.

Since it was the holidays, I was alone dealing with this. My wife was home, two hours away, looking after our dog and two international students. Thankfully, we talked often.     

Finally, the day came to have the test. It consisted of a dye pumped through my heart. The doctor assured me that he should be able to insert stents to help with proper blood flow. He said it would take less than an hour.   

Finally. We were almost done.    

I was awake during the test. I watched and listened to the doctor and the six nurses who were in the room. Suddenly, it was done. I felt another wave of amazement and relief.

A nurse told me it took less than an hour to complete. The doctor was right about one thing – how long the test would take.  

The doctor – who was older and had a very thick German accent – said no stents today. You have a bad heart. You need heart surgery, maybe a transplant. You have 9 blockages in your heart.  

He walked away leaving me alone and frightened by the recent news.   

What? What did he say? What was happening? Am I being wheeled away? Am I having surgery now? What about my wife? Can I call her?

After about five minutes, which felt like hours, I was told I would be taken back to my room and that a doctor would talk about my test results. This was a pivotal moment for my future.  

A few hours later my surgeon explained that my heart was a ticking time-bomb. He proceeded to share that he would try and repair the heart as much as possible. He would harvest – meaning remove – a vein from my leg and put it in my heart.   

For the next few months, I was repeatedly asked how much alcohol did I consume and how much did I smoke? I didn’t. I was ridiculed and told to stop lying to the nurses.  

I didn’t lie. Why would I? I wanted help and instead these professionals weren’t listening. I questioned why they wouldn’t believe me.

After further discussions with my main nurse, we discovered my family has a history of heart disease. Both of my parents passed away in their 70s and 80s. It was simply ruled as medical complications and old age. I got it and I chose not to be angry about it.   

The next few days led to many questions and what my life would look like. I was reminded to take my meds every day. I went from taking an occasional vitamin to taking 20 pills daily! They all have their own side effects. For example, one speeds up my heart and yet another slows it down.

Make sense? Of course not.   

Before I was discharged, my surgeon explained numerous times what I had to do to protect my heart and prepare for surgery. He had no confirmed timeline when my surgery would happen.   

Your heart is still a ticking time-bomb.  

This was early January. Months went by and nothing happened. No follow-up calls, no follow-up appointments.  

Did they forget about me? Is it healing? Maybe my heart is getting better?  

On Apri 29th, 2024, I received a call from the heart clinic. They had a cancellation and wanted to know if I wanted to come in for surgery. This suddenly became real. I agreed to them cutting me open and fixing my heart. I was giving them permission to do this.

The next 72 hours felt like an eternity, to me. Every possible emotion came out. Fear, anger, resentment, happiness, and a slew of others. I knew this was the right thing to do if I wanted to keep living. Honestly, I don’t remember every specific detail leading to the surgery.  

I do remember my wife being with me before heading into surgery. I remember telling her how much I loved her and that if it was time to leave Earth – I was ready. More about my personal beliefs at the end of my story.   

The entire surgery took about five hours and then 15 hours in the ICU. I was then placed in the step-up ward which meant a nurse was available 24/7 with the recent heart patients. Usually, the patients were in that ward for 24 hours. I did not recover as quickly. I was there for 48 hours. Finally, I was transferred to a private room.   

It was at this point that I started having hope. I was getting better. I was in the home stretch. Things will be normal again. Everything changed again.  

I felt something was different with my neck.   

I looked at my wife for answers, and I remember the love and kindness her eyes shared with me. She explained that my IV line was in my neck. I uncontrollably chuckled that I knew what Frankenstein must have felt like. It was the first time in days that I had laughed. That felt good.   

Over the next 72 hours, I went through a vigorous routine of various exercises and walking exercises. I had to push myself – my limits – while being mindful about what my heart was telling me.  

Normal? Is this my new normal? I can’t even imagine my old life now. How am I going to get back there? I thought once my heart was fixed that everything would be normal. My old normal? I am too young to need help all the time. Why would God allow me to stay here like this?

As my discharge time became clearer, I had numerous staff visitors including my anesthesiologist who initially thought I was in for a heart transplant. She said I was lucky to be alive. She wished me well on my journey. I had no idea what that meant or what it would look like.   

When my surgeon came in, he was very gentle when explaining what happened during the surgery. Their goal was to complete a triple-bypass of my heart. One of the blockages was too far gone. He was able to remove my heart, complete a double-bypass, and put my heart back in. I am still in awe of that.  

Hold on! That meant I STILL had 6 blockages. Do I need another surgery down the road? What does that mean for my “normal” life?    

He explained we would “wait and see” what happens by continuing the daily routine of 20+ meds. He added that if my condition were to deteriorate, they would open me up again. That didn’t sound encouraging or hopeful.  

Despite this news, the surgeon explained that when I first went to the hospital 6 months previously, I would not have survived an operation. In fact, he said I was on my deathbed at that time. I was stunned. I didn’t know this and that is a good thing. If I had known, my anxiety would have been much worse.   

He stressed that my heart was a ticking time-bomb at that time. Since my double-bypass, my heart was upgraded to be a time-bomb. Another wave of anxiety and grief hit me.  

Looking back, I know they could only provide so much information in such a short amount of time. My dietician spent 30 minutes with us and when she was done, she gave me a 30-page booklet to review and follow. Information overload.

Lastly, my discharge nurse came in. She told me that she would remove the heart leads and that some patients had a sensation afterwards. There was no sensation. It was a mild electrical shock to my heart! It was the same process as if you started a lawnmower. It gave a personal meaning to “Kickstart My Heart.”  

My wife couldn’t get me out of the hospital fast enough. Tammy did everything possible to make me comfortable.    

The next 8 weeks were probably the hardest for my wife. She had to do all the driving for doctor appointments that were 30 minutes away. When I needed to see my surgeon, he was 2 hours away and my cardiologist was 90 minutes away. I am blessed that she is a very good driver.

Unfortunately, riding in the car was extremely painful. After hitting a bump or pothole, it felt like my heart was going to fly out of my chest.  

I was extremely fortunate to have her support. She helped me, encouraged me and believed in me when I was at my lowest. Everyone deserves to have someone like her. If you don’t know her, Tammy is one of the most giving and selfless people you may meet.   

As my chest began to heal, I noticed my incision wasn’t closing as it should. It wasn’t smooth and it actually had ridges. It seemed to hurt all the time. It hurt if I moved or even when I breathed.   

Will this ever be smooth? Will it always hurt?  

That summer was almost unbearable. I tried to walk daily and discovered that I was constantly hot. It felt like I had a never-ending heatstroke. I had to walk to help my heart get stronger and yet it was difficult to see the benefit. A day of walking around the block meant I would be exhausted for the next two days. Full transparency here – I wasn’t a power walker or overly active prior to my heart issues. I would take turns walking our golden doodle. I think she exercised me more than I exercised her.   

Will I be able to take Syndi for our walk? Will I be able to walk on my own without a cane? It doesn’t seem fair. Life wasn’t supposed to be like this. When will the hot temperatures end? 

I used to enjoy summer and the warmer temperatures. That changed. My body changed because of the self-approved trauma that I allowed.   

One of the most dangerous games we allow ourselves to get sucked in to is: coulda, shoulda and woulda. Ultimately, it is a trap that often takes up space in our mind. Triggers happen and this destructive thought process can rush in like a tidal wave and eventually crash down over us.  

IF we allow that to happen.   

Thankfully I have tools – and a great support team – to overcome that. It isn’t easy. It is challenging. Sometimes it can happen multiple times daily.   

This tends to happen with those pesky New Year’s Resolutions. Did you know gyms are the busiest the first two weeks of January? You struggle to get a parking spot during that time. By the first of February, you will be able to park in the front row.  

Think of someone who goes to the gym for the first time. They are seeking the instant transformation. It doesn’t happen that way. You must make the effort to meet the goal. It takes time, commitment and patience.    

The same applies to re-wiring your thought process. You must make an effort to change your perspective. It isn’t easy but it is so worth it.

In late September 2024, we had a quick 6-day trip to Alberta where we flew across the country and drove over 2200 kms (1367 miles). It was one of the best trips that we ever had. We mainly went for a television interview that Tammy had in Calgary and to see our nieces in another city. We chose to get up early every morning, and it was go-go every day. I was exhausted every day and night. I did not want to let my wife down. I pushed my limits every moment of every day.   

Is this my new norm? I am tired every day and so exhausted when I push myself. So much to process.  

As summer faded into Autumn/Fall, I was in my happy place. That is my favorite season. It is cooler and there is no snow. I felt stronger. I believed I could enjoy my season. I had hope once again. My body had other plans. Walking Syndi was still an extremely hard chore for me. Yet, she has been by my side almost as much as Tammy.   

Side note – I always say Syndi is daddy’s girl, and everyone knows she is Tammy’s girl. Syndi has selective hearing when I ask her to do something. Despite my grief over my health, Syndi has been a therapeutic outlet for us. We have been very blessed.  

Autumn/Fall left quicker than it came. It seemed to get colder sooner than normal. I should have realized something was off. I felt cold most of the time. As the temperature dropped over the next two months, my perspective shifted to a place of darkness. I live in eastern Canada and winter usually lasts at least 4 months.

As soon as I went outside and inhaled the crisp morning air, it felt like an icy skeleton hand gripped my heart tightly and didn’t want to let go. This weather change triggered me. I felt like I was on a merry-go-round and I couldn’t get off. I started to remember what summer was like and wished for it.   

Was winter going to be worse than summer? Would I choose to be home most of the time? 

I decided to take everything day-by-day. If it meant staying inside more than I wanted to, I would. It wasn’t long before I realized it felt like I was settling to keep myself alive. It was like I put my life on pause.   

And then, a trip to San Diego changed my perspective on my life’s trajectory – how my life could impact myself, those around me and for generations to come.

I went to San Diego, from November 4 – 9, 2024 – 6 months post heart surgery – for a retreat titled Heart of The Samurai. The company hosting the retreat was Klemmer and Associates.  

Side note – Since 1995, Klemmer and Associates are an experiential leadership training company who specialize in creating a large amount of change in a short period of time. They have helped tens of thousands of people including Fortune 500 companies. Total transparency – they saved our marriage over 10 years ago. They helped us see ourselves and how we can support each other.   

This was my first big trip on my own since my surgery. This led to more tidal waves of emotions.  

Will I make my connecting flights on time? I have no idea how far away the terminals are. I hope the porters can get me to where I need to go. Forget about my bags arriving on time. I NEED to arrive on time.

While I was in San Diego, I experienced many sides of myself and what I was allowing to hold me back.  I was blessed to have great roommates – B.J. and Adrian. God put them into my life when I needed them the most. This helped lead me to a new peace.   

That week, I saw humanity at its core from people with diverse backgrounds. It humbled me. I had total strangers humbly ask how they could support me. They are no longer strangers. They are my Klemmer brothers and sisters who I proudly call family.   

What is going on? Do I look feeble or that I need help all the time? Why are people wanting to help me so much?  

That is just me … getting in my head. It doesn’t serve anything good. It reminds me of the expression to “think outside the box.” Who put the box there in the first place? YOU did.

The solution is simple – don’t put the box there. Don’t limit yourself by putting restraints on yourself. Again, I am saying this while reminding myself not to place a box around myself. 

How often does that happen to you? Do you overthink things or wonder what someone’s motive is? At the end of the day, we can be our own worst enemy. We can self-sabotage greatness for ourselves. I pray often for serenity and grace for myself. I deserve it as much as I deserve greatness.   

Side note – I am not a religious person. I am a Christian. I believe in the Holy Trinity – God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit. I love people. I thank God every day for another day of life despite how I feel. Some days are harder than others. I know prayer works because I am here. I had one friend who was in Africa and he asked tribe members to pray for me! Every night I ask God to bless all my family, friends and even total strangers who have reached out to us, prayed for us and thought of us during my journey.  

Why?   

I believe everyone needs to be blessed regardless of what their religious belief is. Love the sinner and not the sin. Yet, I am still working on loving myself. That is what I need to do first. I need to be able to love myself first and then I can love others. I am to love everyone.  

After returning from San Diego, I was recharged mentally as to what I needed to do. I needed to focus on getting better. I wasn’t positive as to what that meant exactly and I was willing to give it my best effort. 

Here I am. What do I do now? Push myself more?    

Tammy was there for me. I learned that I needed to be more open to her. I had to share my feelings more than I previously had. She responded by not wanting to be a nag. I told her that communication is key and I would try to be as open as possible.  

For the next six months, I essentially became a hermit. The cold temperatures were a challenge that I allowed myself to hold me back. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I chose to remember the tools that I learned in San Diego.   

I needed a Win-Win scenario.   

I chose to see my situation as being temporary and to focus on what I needed. I was alive and thankful. The colder temperatures slowly disappeared and spring returned.  

I made it. Is this my new norm? Will I have to endure the changing weather every season? Will it seem so extreme in the summer and winter months?  

This echoed through me until summer. I wanted to push myself to see what I could do.

When my first opportunity to mow our yard came – I did it. I hadn’t started a lawnmower in two years. I yanked on the cord and…nothing. I paused and attempted again. Same result.

The anxiety and frustration slowly crept back in. I was determined not to be defeated. One more attempt and … VROOOM! It roared to life and so did I. I felt alive! I was mowing my lawn, and nothing could stop me. At least that is what I thought.   

After 20 minutes, I was drenched in sweat, my heart pressed against my chest, and I started to slow down. Tammy told me that she would take over. I quickly agreed and noticed she was not comfortable. I waited 5 minutes and returned to mowing.  

How much longer can I do this? My heart is really beating hard. Is something wrong? Am I having a heart attack? I can’t die while mowing my lawn!    

After another five minutes, I stopped. The entire lawn was not mowed. Oh well. Did it look good? No. I was content that I did something that I could not do for two years. Then, I noticed my heart hadn’t slowed down. It was still beating very hard and fast.   

I asked Tammy to get my Nitroglycerin spray immediately. One shot under my tongue. It usually takes less than a minute to make a difference. At least, it has for me.

I could feel my heart slow down. Relief in so many ways including my anxiety subsiding.   

I wish I could tell you that everything has become better. It hasn’t. I deal with many physical issues every day. I am thankful because things could be worse.  

I changed my perspective to a place of acceptance. I remind myself of this every day. I now realize how quickly things can be taken from you, especially your health.   

Remember today only exists once. Make today your best day with no regrets. 

Did you enjoy Keith’s story? Get your copy of Stories of Good Grief, Volume 2. FREE for Kindle Unlimited subscribers and 99 cents for others.