When I closed my eyes, my body was intact. But a few hours later when I open my eyes, I had 90 cm of incisions. Barely conscious, I was afraid to move, and I was pretty sure I did not have what it would take to recover from such a major surgery. As it turns out, I did. But I didn’t do it alone. Let me back up a bit…
When I was told I needed open heart surgery, I was in a state of disbelief. You see just two days earlier, I had a very typical female heart attack. In other words, I instantly felt like I had the flu. Nothing major. My arms were tired, I had waves of nausea, but in between those waves, I felt fine except for being fatigued.
The symptoms sounded like the type of inconsequential sensations that my mom had spoken of when she had a heart attack years earlier, so just in case, I had it checked out at the local community hospital. Turns out I got to the hospital in time to have the heart attack there. The whole event was very calm, and seemingly insignificant (so much so that, if I’d been home instead of out for lunch with my friend, I would have just had a nap. Given that I had a 100 per cent blockage, plus other arteries blocked at 80+ and 70+ per cent, I wonder if I would have woken up from that nap).
I was pre-paddled with a portable defibrillator, and a nurse accompanied me by ambulance to a hospital that specialized in heart issues. They immediately put in three stents, and the next day told me I should have open heart surgery. What?! If you found yourself in that situation, I suspect similar things might go through your mind. Of course, there is a wall of disbelief among the many other feelings, not the least of which is, “I don’t have time for this sh*%.”
I’m single with no children. A few years ago, my mom moved in with me. And as her COPD gets worse, my job as caregiver increases. I have no siblings, no aunties to come and help. I’m self-employed and work from home and did not have the financial wherewithal to spend weeks or months healing from open heart surgery.
That said, I’ve never been one to dwell endlessly on the disadvantages, so I made a decision. I decided to put off my open heart surgery, accept the job that I had just been offered, save up enough money and then have the surgery. It was a rational, logical, albeit ill-advised decision.
One of my oldest and dearest friends showed up at the hospital a day or two later. She said, “I hear you’ve decided to wait to have the surgery.” So, I explained my rational thinking to her. In a very measured way, she calmly said, “Yes… or… you could ask for what you need and have the surgery as the doctors recommended it.” I said, “I don’t think you understand how much I need.” She said, “Yes, I do.”
Ask for what you need… ask for what you need? That sounded more impossible than everything the doctors had just proposed to me, and yet, I knew in my gut it was the right answer.
But how could I possibly do it?
I was sent home from the hospital to recover from the heart attack and stents and a surgery date was booked a few weeks hence. I had a work contract to keep me busy and when I sat down to work on a chunk of leadership coaching content, instead what emerged was a letter to some of my closest friends explaining the situation.
As I read through it, I was careful to make sure there was nothing that could provoke potential guilt or manipulation through dramatic language, and I gave everyone an ‘out’ with the acknowledgement of the fact that we all have our own stuff going on in life. Nonetheless, I mentioned some of the things that I would need to heal, from prayers, to rides to the blood lab, to money.
I took a deep breath and held my finger over the ‘send’ button. A wave of fear came over me. What if they think I’m pathetic? What if they think I’m weak? What if they think I’m incompetent or stupid or greedy? What if they don’t have time to help? Or worse, what if they don’t want to help? I was practically stopped by the dense field of shame around the fact that I needed so much support.
Now, I have to interrupt my story and ask you a question: If one of your good friends was in a similar situation, do you think she should feel deep shame around needing help? My guess is the answer is no. Yet most people hate asking for help, so they don’t. And I found out later that many women who have heart attacks feel so much shame, they don’t even tell people it happened. I wonder if we can change that. I digress.
So, with fear and trepidation I swallowed my pride and hit the ‘send’ button on the email to my friends. What happened next shocked me.
Offers of help poured in. Two friends in the US created a Go Fund Me page. A friend who didn’t even live in the same city said she would take me to the hospital and stay with my mom for the entire time I was away. The support was unfathomable, and I felt overwhelmed and overjoyed… and yet still so much shame. I’ll be honest. People who I never thought would help (care, for sure, but not help), were among my biggest supporters. Even strangers reached out. Friends I hadn’t been in touch with for 30 years came out of the woodwork. People told me they admired how strong I was, but the truth is, I had never felt so weak. Reading through the comments that rolled in, I remember sitting in front of my laptop with tears of gratitude rolling down my cheeks, and also a new strange sensation that I’d never felt before. For the first time in my life, I felt an obligation to live.
That drive and obligation to live was so profound that I promised myself to do everything to recover from the surgery and be able to give back to the community in whatever form I could.
I’m a few years out of surgery now. My volunteer efforts are almost all heart based. Through the Pacific Open Heart Association, I talk to patients (and their families) who are just about to have, or have just had, open heart surgery. Like other volunteers with POHA, I share tips for healing, what to expect next, and listen deeply when they share their fears. Also, when I learned that the early heart attack signs are missed in most women, I embarked on a mission to change it by creating a 90-minute talk that is offered free of charge and shared some of the key points on podcasts from Canada, the US, Australia, and South Africa.
Globally, the high mortality rate from heart attacks unites us. I don’t feel qualified or capable of reducing that rate, but I can absolutely ensure that fewer women die unnecessarily, and instead live through their heart attacks.
The other aspect I want to influence is the high level of shame that so often accompanies our experience as women. Lovingly asking for help is nothing to be ashamed of. I suspect I’m not the only one with incredibly giving friends, who NEVER ask for help. That’s not a sign of strength. Instead, pride and shame prevent people who love us from experiencing the opportunity to be supported.
I’ll admit it. Yes, there is risk involved. Through my own heart adventure, I had a family member express his extreme disappointment that there was a public request for financial support via the Go Fund Me page started by my friends. He hasn’t talked to me since before the heart surgery. It’s sad that he chose not to see the incredible beauty, transformational power, and support that came through an extraordinary community of people, and I miss him. Even so, I wouldn’t change the choices I made.
Back home after 13 days in the hospital in recovery from the surgery, I remember lying in bed one afternoon. I felt the support of the bed, the pillows and the soft sheets. And then I felt a swell of joy in my whole being when I realized that all these people, through prayer, positivity, and support made it all possible. I had never felt so supported by the world. I felt as though life itself supported me. What an incredible gift, all because I decided to ask.
Building on her years of corporate and nonprofit work in senior leadership positions, Adrienne White started Leaders Landing, a place where tomorrow’s leaders can invest and learn about their most important asset: Themselves. Through coaching and training, she is driven to bring out the best in people while helping them find their inner brilliance. Contact: Adrienne@LeadersLanding.com
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What a beautiful story. Thank-you. My husband has gone through years of heart problems and surgeries and we felt we couldn’t really ask for help either. You have changed our minds. Thank you again.