Reminders of Grace
About six weeks ago, I started to experience jumping and fluttering with my heart rate. After five years of a successful ablation to keep my atrial fibrillation (a-fib) at bay, it appeared to be back. In the past, this would impact me for a few minutes several times a day, but this time it was relentless. After six days straight, with no let up in my symptoms, my loving husband Gary decided we weren’t waiting this out anymore. We headed to the Emergency Room. This was God’s first act of kindness that set so many other things into motion.
This visit happened to be on a Sunday morning. I was supposed to lead worship that day, but God provided others who used their gifts and talents to step up and lead in my absence. Additionally, several members of our church family reached out to say they were praying. It was such a comfort to me, and I will never underestimate the power of others lifting me before the Father.
The doctors in the Emergency Room assessed my condition and provided some pharmaceutical intervention to get my heart back into a natural rhythm. I was sent on my way, encouraged to continue my current medication regimen and reach out to my cardiologist.
A few days later, as I was driving the 50 minutes to my cardiologist’s office, fighting commuter traffic, I was complaining to myself (since I was the only one in the car) about how ridiculous it was not to just go to a closer cardiologist and miss time off work to follow up on something that was now resolved. In hindsight, I believe this was another one of God’s graces to me—a physician who is thorough and skilled.
At that visit, he suggested we consider changing my current medication that monitored my a-fib. In order to do that, he wanted me to undergo a routine chemical stress test before making any adjustments. He didn’t expect any unusual findings and planned to call and adjust my medications afterward.
Amazingly enough, during this waiting period, I did not have one episode of atrial fibrillation—not even the shortest flutter or skip.
The morning after my stress test, the nurse practitioner from my cardiologist’s office called and wanted to see me the next day. She shared that they had stopped the stress test early because they detected a blockage in my left anterior descending artery. I had now earned myself a heart catheterization and a prescription for nitroglycerin to carry on my person. They could not tell the exact severity, but it was at least 70% or greater.
Because I was mostly asymptomatic—except for extreme fatigue and occasional breathlessness—the procedure was scheduled for a month out, with directions to call or visit the ER if my symptoms changed.
I also came to realize something sobering: had my a-fib not flared up again—which has nothing to do with this type of blockage—this condition might never have been discovered until I experienced a major heart attack. Even in that, I can see God’s grace.
I wish I could tell you that as a woman of faith I was completely trusting in God’s care for my life, but there were a few days when I cried and jumped to extremes, telling Gary I thought we should review our will and ensure he would carry on family traditions for the holidays. God blessed me in turn with a man who hugged me tight, dried my tears, and reminded me that “God has us.” As we continued to pray and invited close friends to pray with us, I truly felt carried by a deep peace—remembering the words of Psalm 31:15, “My times are in His hands.”
So, last Friday morning, I arrived at the hospital ready to begin the catheterization.
My nurse was the sweetest, firm, and humorous woman named Deb. As we chatted during preparation, she shared that she had previously been an ICU nurse for 20+ years and had recently switched over to cardiac short-stay. In the events that followed, God knew I needed Deb as my nurse.
As I awaited my procedure, I became hot and clammy, and she noticed my heart rate dropping into the 30s. She quickly flipped the bed upside down (with me in it!) and alerted the surgeon. They were able to stabilize me, and she never left my side. Again, God’s grace to me—in the form of this compassionate nurse.
Moments before surgery, one of the medical personnel came to roll in the stretcher. He arrived wearing a medical head covering that had many names of God on it. As I was being wheeled into what could have been a frightening time, I began reading: “Mighty God,” “Lord of All,” “Almighty Father,” “Morning Star,” “Wonderful Counselor,” “Prince of Peace.” Once again, God’s grace reminding me that my Creator continued to hold me in His hands. He created my heart, and He could certainly fix it.
After surgery, I learned that they repaired a 95%, 80%, and 70% blockage in my left anterior descending artery—the artery known for causing “widow maker” heart attacks. God’s hand of grace was on me, protecting me all of this time as I lived life with such significant blockage.
As they prepared me for discharge, my entire body flushed, and my heart rate and blood pressure dropped. Nurse Deb was once again quick and responsive and advocated for the doctor to come check on me. They determined it was most likely a reaction to one of the medications I had been given and provided quick intervention to return my numbers to normal. Much to my chagrin, I was admitted overnight. Yet again, in hindsight—God’s grace. Had this happened after we left the hospital, who knows how things would have transpired.
I’ve walked with Christ for close to 50 years now. I know that the God who created us is intimately involved in our lives and our care, but I am always amazed when I look back and see His hand in each and every step along the way.
When I reflect on this journey, I don’t just see a medical story—I see reminders of grace, again and again, and the steady truth that my times have always been, and will always be, in His hands.
