My friend and fellow deacon Ted Allen wrote the following entry this morning. (Wed. Sept. 22) He died within hours of posting it .
There is much wisdom in his words. Read and share.
Had a rough week last week?
Let me tell you how mine happened:
Mary’s Dad passed away Friday week ago. We buried him on Monday morning in Buna, Tx. I was on my regular days off. I was scheduled to go back to work on Wednesday morning. We get up to three days of paid funeral leave, but the way I figured it, the funeral was over and nothing else had to be done for family business on my end, so I went to work. I passed out umbrellas at the east gate until 7:30 am Then. I went to medical for my part 1 of my annual physical. The nurse there chewed on my tail for a while about being off of my blood pressure medicine. I explained that my Dr. had died and I hadn’t gotten around to getting a new Dr nor prescription. That wasn’t good enough. I had to promise to get a Dr. and a prescription before two days elapsed for my part two of the exam. I agreed, did the old blowing routine, checked my eyes and ears and took blood samples.
I left and went to the OSTOB New building, for the CAPS meeting. Set in there discussing issues til 10am. I felt a quick stab of fiery pain in my lower left quadrant, followed rapidly by two more of the same at the top of my chest in the center. I stood up abruptly, didn’t say a word to anyone and walked down the hall to the coffee machine. I got out a cup, put a large tablespoon of sugar in it with two tablespoons of water and drank the gritty, sugary mess. I belched twice, and felt a tiny amount of relief. My left leg started getting weak. I couldn’t stand well, but I could walk, so I walked to the other side of the building and went in the Men’s bathroom. I set on the throne for a minute or so, meanwhile this raging pain started in my left leg in the thigh and calf. Thought , now wouldn’t be a dandy place to be found dead? I tried to get up and walk. OK, so I got up, put my britches on as I was standing on my right leg and buckled up. Now I couldn’t walk, so I dragged and hopped along the perimeter wall to the door and out to the hall.l just pulled myself up to an erect height along the wall when I saw David Barrias coming towards me. Ted, you doing all right? No, I’m not . Oh really? No, David call me an ambulance, 911, 533 or whatever, I’m having an aneuryism. OK, Ted…. All right Ted , they’re on their way. Here’s a chair you can sit down in. I tried it. It hurt more, so I kept getting up on my right leg, trying my left and then sitting. Much more pain. People start arriving, I’m not paying them much attention, it’s all I can do not to scream at the top of my lungs about the pain in my left leg. I just set there sweating like a pup passing peach pits. Then the paramedics arrive and it’s professional from there on. Where do you want to go? I don’t know why, but I want to go to Memorial. But if it’s cardiac, everyone knows you go to St. Pat’s. I know that, but I want to go to Memorial.The ride was uneventful; they wheeled me right through emergency to do some scanning, and everything else is pretty blank from my end.
Here’s what every one else stated: They wheeled me in for scanning, the ER Dr. was looking at the files and he said “I’ll tell you one thing , if there isn’t a cardiologist on board that chopper, he won’t make it to Houston. Another doctor runs up at this time, grabs the scans and peruses for just a moment, and says, I just got out of surgery, but scrub me up. I can do this one.
It was Dr. Howe.
And he did this one.
The details for me are sketchy, but I know they did a heart block, put me on a mechanical heart through my right femoral artery. Dr. Howe said it was the best and the worst he’d seen . My aorta had “come unwound”.
Delaminated, as he called it. It is made in three pieces, and as two of the pieces uncoiled, it made a false lumen, or path for the blood to go. It had, however, picked up two good places for the blood to go, my left lung and brain. It wasn’t flowing to my left kidney nor left leg. As he separated the last rib and spread my chest, the remaining wall of the aorta was swollen the size of my fist, and an ugly purple. He had just enough time to see it, when it BURST!!! He figured I was dead at that point, but he had the piece of Dacron fiber to replace the aorta with in his hand , so he just stabbed it over the end of the heart and started sewing. He brought me back.
The aortic valve works fine, and I’m on the road to recovery.
Why go to work when I really didn’t have to? I’d have died on my tractor.
Why go to Memorial when you KNOW the place to go is St Pats? Because Dr. Howe was at Memorial suturing at that moment.
Just gotta say hmmmmmm.
GOD IS AWESOME
Visit Ted’s facebook page at