I Had Open-Heart Surgery

THE place: St. Vincents Hospital, Melbourne, Australia. The time: twenty-four hours before I was scheduled for open-heart surgery. As I read the loving message from one of my children, I recall thinking: “Without God’s help I will never make it out of this mess alive.”

On several occasions over the years I had felt that my general health was not as it should be, even though no one was able to pinpoint the trouble. In March 1973 the company with which I was employed arranged for all executives to have an extensive medical examination.

Although the examination failed to show up any defects, I was far from satisfied, mainly because I didn’t feel right. I would run short of breath without a great deal of physical exertion. But as the weeks passed I accepted this as normal for a person of my age. I was forty-eight.

Real Trouble Becomes Obvious

In December 1973 I left with my family for an assembly of Jehovah’s Witnesses that was held at Randwick Race Course in Sydney on the east coast of Australia. There was ample parking for everyone. However, it was quite a walk to the seating, and I noticed that each day after parking my car I was out of breath and lagging behind the others.

The assembly ended, and my wife and I drove down to a place called Jervis Bay to visit my wife’s parents who have holiday units right on the beach. One morning after walking along the beach for several miles, as was my habit, I plunged into the surf. But after a short swim I realized I was about to pass out. I just managed to get out of the water and stagger onto the beach before collapsing.

When I came around, I was being carried on a stretcher shoulder high by my son and several others. It flashed through my mind: The dead are conscious of nothing, and yet why can I actually see all these pallbearers of mine? I suppose every situation has a humorous side.

By ambulance I was taken to the nearest hospital, where I was examined. I was found to be in good shape, and allowed to leave. The next day I was not sick, so I decided to skip the beach walk and just have a quiet, relaxed swim. The result: A repeat of the previous day. The ambulance driver and I were now “old buddies.”

This time at the hospital they realized that obviously there was something wrong. But until extensive tests could be made, the trouble couldn’t be identified. It was suggested that I undergo these tests as soon as I arrived back home in Western Australia.

The Trouble Identified

We made the journey back uneventfully, my wife doing most of the driving. I decided to see a specialist; not being sure of my problem, I settled for a heart specialist.

On my very first visit this skilled surgeon, by listening with his stethoscope, noted a faulty heart valve. But to confirm his diagnosis and to make sure that there were no other abnormalities, I underwent minor surgery known as a cardiac catheterization procedure. This involves an overnight stay in the hospital.

A hollow tube was inserted into a vein at my elbow and forced up the arm and down into the heart area. Here a fluid or dye was released into the bloodstream. As a result, photos could be taken on a videotape of my coronary arteries and the heart area. These photos could be viewed by myself and the staff on TV screens mounted on the wall. This has become a standard procedure, I understand.

It was determined that I indeed had a faulty aortic valve. Also, the two coronary arteries that feed blood to the heart were blocked​—one almost completely, the other partially. So it was decided that I undergo corrective open-heart surgery immediately.

This would involve, first, replacing the defective aortic valve with a plastic one. It is through this valve that blood is pumped from the left ventricle of the heart into the huge aorta and on to the entire body.

The second procedure would involve taking a section of vein from my leg and using it to make two coronary bypass grafts. These grafts in the coronary arteries would provide new channels for the flow of blood, bypassing the areas in the coronary arteries where blockage was occurring due to a buildup of fatty deposits. Thus the blood could then flow freely to feed the heart with vital, freshly oxygenated blood.

Incidentally, for the coronary arteries to be partially blocked with fatty deposits is not an unusual condition among people today. It is responsible for a very high percentage of the heart trouble, including the many heart attacks.a However, I was fortunate, for my warnings of trouble came in the form of blackouts, apparently without any actual heart damage being done.

Operation Without Blood?

I requested that the necessary arrangements be made for the operation. However, I explained that I would not accept any blood transfusions, since the taking of blood is against my Bible-based beliefs. My doctor thought that perhaps I didn’t realize the seriousness of the situation, so as an alternative he suggested that blood be taken from my body over the next week or so, stored, and then used during the operation.

I explained God’s viewpoint on the use of blood, reading to him Deuteronomy 12:23, 24: “Simply be firmly resolved not to eat the blood, because the blood is the soul and you must not eat the soul with the flesh. You must not eat it. You should pour it out upon the ground as water.” Thus, I said, storing blood for use in blood transfusions is Scripturally objectionable to me.

Following a conference that the doctor had with three medical colleagues on the matter, it was decided that, under the circumstances, they were not prepared to operate in Western Australia. They suggested that I see a highly qualified doctor in the city of Melbourne in eastern Australia. This man had performed open-heart operations on Jehovah’s Witnesses without the use of blood. However, so as not to raise my hopes, it was explained that details of my case were to be submitted to the doctor in Melbourne before any decision would be made. Apparently a plastic valve replacement, a double bypass, plus the removal of a vein from my leg​—all without using blood transfusions—​was considered a little out of the ordinary.

The news was all bad for the moment. Initially the shock was twofold. First, because for the first time in my life this was happening to me personally, and not to someone else. Secondly, the possibility of sudden death is a frightening experience and takes a little getting used to. However, having my God Jehovah to call upon for courage and strength was a great comfort.

The findings, including the video tapes of my heart X rays, were forwarded to the doctor in Melbourne. A few days later I was advised that he was prepared to perform the operation. I was to be in Melbourne within forty-eight hours. Within hours of my arrival I was admitted into the hospital.

Open-heart surgery equipment is so costly that only one hospital in every state capital here in Australia is set up to perform operations of this nature. In the case of Melbourne, it is St. Vincents Hospital. My doctor visited the ward on the first night and did everything in his power to persuade me to forget my beliefs regarding blood, telling me my chances of survival were very slim. In fact, he did his very best to scare me, and he succeeded too!

I could feel my knees knocking under the bed covers. After he left I was under the impression that he was having second thoughts about the operation, and so was I. I didn’t know whether to grab my clothes and leave, or stay and see the thing through. Being a Christian really meant something that night; I realized how much we really do need God.

The doctor later told my wife that he had carefully weighed the situation. Apparently, 30 percent of patients hemorrhage internally following such an operation, and if blood is not replaced, the results can be disastrous. However, I was encouraged when I read in the local paper that in this same hospital a patient died that very day, having received the wrong type of blood. The man in the bed next to me said: “I am concerned now about having blood; it seems a calculated risk.”

Preparation for the Operation

It was decided that I spend one week in the ward prior to the operation so as to settle in, undergo further tests and learn breathing exercises. Following open-heart surgery the patient experiences initial difficulty in breathing. So it is important to learn in advance what to expect and how to cope with it. This can later contribute toward one’s peace of mind and personal welfare.

During this week prior to the operation I was visited by numerous medical persons who would be involved in the procedure. The operation was to be a team effort by a number of highly qualified doctors. It was explained to me that access to the chest cavity is necessary, and this is achieved by cutting vertically right through the breastbone, or sternum. This is done with some kind of portable circular saw. As it turned out, I was asleep at the time, thankfully, and didn’t have opportunity to inspect the “tools of trade.”

The doctor in charge of the heart-lung machine advised me that this machine would have to take over the function of my heart and lungs for approximately two hours during the operation. Normally the machine is primed with blood. However, in my case a saline solution was to be substituted. As my blood would flow from my body through the machine, it would be oxygenated and chilled to approximately 84 degrees Fahrenheit (29 degrees Celsius). Then it would be pumped back into my circulatory system. This would afford the surgeon valuable time to work on my heart, which would have ceased to pump due to the low temperature.

Eventually, the crucial time would come when the work is completed and the heart temperature is brought back to normal. Then the pumping of the heart would be restarted with an electric charge, and I would be ‘back in business’ again. Finally, my chest cavity would be closed up.

Several days before surgery, the bypass technician visited to make himself known. He mentioned that his own brother is one of Jehovah’s Witnesses. Knowing that we are not superstitious, he commented that I was to be the thirteenth Jehovah’s Witness to use this machine. Doing his utmost to reassure me, he said it was a long while since they had lost a patient. I appreciated his visit.

By the end of the week the doctors and nurses had adjusted to the situation and were more than kind to me. In fact, I had a number of discussions about the Bible with various ones. It occurred to me how well received the Bible’s message is in a place like this where the full impact of human misery, sickness and imperfection is so evident.

Finally, on the last night, after my family had left the ward, I experienced great comfort in prayer. I must have gone to sleep with my Bible in hand, for the next morning it was still in bed with me when I was given an injection to put me to sleep. That was the last I remember of the twenty-second of February, 1974.

Recovery

I awoke several days later in the intensive-care ward, heavily sedated. My first recollection was of seeing my wife walking toward my bed, her garb complete with mask, cloak and cap. She was allowed to stay only a few minutes due to the high risk of infection. But I recall that she commented, “I hope you have been behaving yourself.” I assured her that I had little choice in the matter, having tubes and pipes sticking out all over.

The doctor had requested that my wife stay away from the hospital on the day of the operation, promising that he would telephone immediately after it was over, which he did. He assured her that I was all right. The whole operation had taken five hours and had been performed successfully without blood, which, as the doctor said, “was a forward step in their experience.”

The actual work was classified as, not “major” surgery, but “massive” surgery. The operating team having taken special care, I had lost only one pint of blood during the operation. Another pint later drained from the tubes coming out of my lower chest, which were obviously left in for this purpose.

On the second day after the operation I apparently was mentally confused. However, this was only temporary. After being taken back to the postoperative ward on the fourth day, I soon afterward began to sit up and take notice, even though I was very weak physically.

Two weeks after the operation I was discharged. Then a week later, before boarding the jet aircraft to return home, I paid my final visit to the surgeon who was in charge of the operating team. This was for the usual examination and checkup. The doctor expressed interest in following my progress, and said that he would keep in touch with my local doctor in Perth, Western Australia. I left with him a Bible and the book The Truth That Leads to Eternal Life, which he assured me he would read.

Although still on a sickness pension, I hope to work again in the near future. My health has improved considerably. I swim daily, play golf and estimate that I have walked somewhere in the vicinity of 2,000 miles (3,200 kilometers) since being discharged from the hospital.

Reflecting, I can sincerely say that the past two years have been the most rewarding of my life. True, the company with which I had worked for twenty years terminated my services, considering that I was a bad risk for the future. I felt too sick at the time to be upset. But I have since enjoyed an abundance of spiritually rewarding experiences and have come to have a better appreciation of many things.

For instance, I have gained greater understanding and compassion for the sick, ailing and aged. But most of all, life now has more real purpose and meaning than it ever had before. I am unable to express in words the love that I feel for my God Jehovah.

Six months after the operation, I was able to commence my house-to-house witnessing again, accompanied by my wife. Almost invariably a householder would invite us in, and we would have the opportunity to sit down and discuss the purpose of our visit from an armchair. Talking to others about our wonderful Bible-based hope has indeed been upbuilding and rewarding to me.

Although, under present circumstances, I may have a reduced life expectancy and businesswise I am a bad risk, what continues to strengthen me is the certain knowledge that God purposes for humans to enjoy everlasting life in perfect health under the reign of his Kingdom. The Bible promise to those who will eventually live under God’s rule is that “he will wipe out every tear from their eyes, and death will be no more, neither will mourning nor outcry nor pain be anymore. The former things have passed away.” (Rev. 21:4) ​—Contributed.

[Picture on page 20]

I swim daily, and my health has improved considerably

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