Laurie's Journal

But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. –Isaiah 40:31 Yesterday was 4 weeks since my body went through the trauma of open-heart surgery. Doctors are clear to use the language of trauma when describing what happens to a patient during an open-heart procedure. Not only do they cut you open, they stop your heart and put you on ‘heart-lung bypass’. Your body is cooled to a hypothermic state during all of this to protect your organs. Artificial respiration is supplied for several hours until you can breathe on your own again reliably and copious amounts of anesthesia are administered that ensure that you don’t wake up for quite awhile while they bring your body back to stasis. So it is not surprising that I am still tired, still trying to get back energy to do basic tasks and my heart is still trying to adjust to its new reality. Healing takes time and sometimes I wonder, “when will I feel normal again?” A year ago yesterday, all of our hearts felt like they stopped for a bit as we began to deal with the reality of Covid-19. We began to hear that life might need to be shut down for a time and our normal way of being bypassed while doctors and scientists worked to figure out how to best respond to this new threat to our lives. It was March 13 here in Maryland that our Governor announced early afternoon that schools would be closed and that other organizations and businesses would likewise have to shutter. I remember standing in the church office watching along with other staff persons and saying, “well, that’s it, we have to close down.” I am not sure that any of us understood the gravity of the situation a year ago. While I was pretty certain that the predicted ‘2-3 weeks’ of school and businesses being closed was likely a great underestimation, I had no earthly idea that a year later we would still not be back to life as we knew it. I certainly didn’t know that it would be a trauma for our communities, nation and world. None of us really knew what we would go through. A year ago I also had no idea of what I was going to have to go through in order to have a healthy heart again. I knew I wasn’t well. I could feel it every day. I tried to convince my cardiologist and my insurance company that something was very wrong but neither listened as intently as I needed them to. And so needed tests and diagnoses were delayed. Fortunately, I had a small TIA in July that started to hasten the journey towards my healing but it would still take a few more months to begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel. At times I wasn’t sure how it would all turn out. It felt a bit dark at moments as I wondered how soon I would be healed. But there is this thing called hope that keeps hanging on. I wanted more than anything to heal. I didn’t want to go through open-heart surgery to get there though. It was a daunting proposition. One day, as God and I were talking about why I had to go through all of this, I heard a familiar voice. It was my daughter, Hope. For those of you who don’t know, Hope died two days after her birth. But Hope has been alive in my heart for nearly 13 years. And that day she spoke to me and said, “Mommy, I need you to live.” God was using her to speak words of life into my spirit. That was pretty much all that I needed to commit myself to what was unavoidable. A year into Covid, I have been realizing what a hard year it has been. I watched a reality TV program the other night where the family on the show was just finding out about Covid. Unexpectedly, I found myself crying. A wave of the reality of March 2020 washed over me. It was clear that in ‘getting through it’ I had not totally allowed myself to feel it. Maybe you have been experiencing similar emotions this week. But it has been unavoidable. To quote a children’s book, “Can’t go over it, can’t go under it, we have to go through it.” (Going on a Bear Hunt, Rosen and Oxenbury). And we have indeed gone through it. It has been hard and tiring and some days it is taken all that we have to do normal activities. We have wondered, “when will we all feel normal again?” Last night, President Biden suggested that if we all continue to follow protocols and if a significant percentage of our population gets vaccinated that maybe, just maybe, by July 4 we can begin to declare independence from Covid-19. He warned that a lot of things had to come together well for that to happen but it was something to aim for. I am looking forward to the day when I can declare independence from heart disease too. My goal is to be able to run by summertime. It may not be a long run but it will be a victory lap none the less. But for today, I am walking steadily, more and more each week (I am aiming for a half mile a day this week). There is still a lot of healing to come. Likewise, there is still a lot of healing to come in this world for Covid. As many of us have received our vaccines, there are whole nations that have little access to any doses. Even as some people got very mild cases of Covid and celebrate that, there are others still plagued by lasting effects and too many who are grieving the loss of their dear ones. We have been through a trauma. Our hearts have stopped at moments. We have felt like it was hard to breathe. But step by step, God is offering us hope to get us through. I, for one, am going to keep holding on to that hope.

Two weeks ago tonight I was awaiting open-heart surgery. Thanks to lots of prayers and support, I was relatively calm as I awaited the day ahead. I really had no idea what I was walking into, but God walked with me. Today I went for my two-week follow-up. While I was there, I was given the post-operative report. I read it on the way home and found myself a bit overwhelmed. I read the details of what had happened in the operating room, including the discovery that my aortic aneurysm was much worse than they had anticipated. The tissue was described in the report as ‘extremely friable’ and it bled when they touched it. (That means the tissue was very fragile and easily fell apart). This necessitated a larger incision and a larger repair than they had planned. All went well in the end, thanks be. But it hit me on the way home. I could have died. And it could have been very soon. The last two weeks haven’t been easy. There has been pain and struggle and tiredness and did I mention tiredness. But I have also been overwhelmed with gratitude. The surgeon who operated on me, Dr. Eric Sarin, apologized for having to do a more invasive surgery. I was kind of amazed that the man who had saved my life was apologizing to me. I thanked him profusely for what he had done. I have also been profoundly grateful for everything my family, friends and church have done to support me through cards, meals, gifts and messages. You are an important part of my medical team. Thank you! Now I continue to heal with the help of home health care (amazingly my nurse lives down the street from me), occupational therapy for a hand that hasn’t decided to come back to full function yet and soon cardiac therapy to help me take my ‘new’ heart out for a spin to see what it can do. I expect to be running by summer! It’s been a long but good day. I have a strong new heart and the last two weeks have shown me that I am anything but ‘friable’. Time to rest, knowing that God has more for me to do tomorrow

Update from Alan. Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent on the Christian liturgical calendar. I kind of realized that this morning while I was working out. Given the timing of Laurie's surgery, I guess I haven't had that much time to think about what i might do during Lent this year. On Ash Wednesday and during Lent followers of Jesus are challenged to confront our own mortality and our utter dependence on God for life. The phrase often quoted when ashes are imposted is “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Of course, this year Laurie had to have open heart surgery, so our family has been pretty keenly aware of her mortality in recent months. She literally had to have her heart cracked open so that that which was impeding the flow of life-giving oxygenated blood could be repaired. It seems that this has been accomplished, for which we praise God. Nevertheless, throughout the whole process, she and those who loved her were quite aware of the possibility—although we were constantly assured it was quite remote—that she could die. Although as people of faith we trusted that God would take care of her, we had to be realistic about the type of surgery this was and at least consider that possibility of the “unthinkable” happening. We had to discuss what we would do if the “worse” came to pass and Laurie didn’t survive. While it was tough to have this discussion, it was what was necessary for Laurie (and me as well) to have peace as she went into open heart surgery. She (we) had to look squarely at her mortality in order to move toward the future God had for her. I think that’s kind of what is supposed to happen for Christians during Lent. So, while on the one hand I fell like I haven’t had much time to think specifically about Ash Wednesday given all that’s been going on, on the other hand I guess Laurie and I been in Lent-mode for a while now given what she’s just been through. ************************** As far as Laurie’s recovery from surgery is concerned, yesterday was a bit of setback—but I don’t think it had to do with her surgically repaired heart. Laurie spent much of the day in bed very sleepy and battling nausea. We’re pretty sure that the cause was gluten. She has celiac disease and when she ingests even a small amount of gluten, she can get very sick. There were two possible sources: medicine or food. The medical staff confirmed that no medicines she has been taking contain gluten. So, it was most likely something she ate while at the hospital. Here experience is that despite their good indentations and best attempts to comply, hospitals aren’t the best at addressing allergy concerns of patients. I had to run out and buy some food items last night to make sure she could control what she consumed and not have to eat anything more from the hospital. She finally managed to throw up, and that actually made her feel better. (We might related to that experience if we’ve ever been sick to our stomach.) As of this morning, she seemed to be doing better, but she still finds herself in the hospital on Ash Wednesday. However, we are optimistic she will be allowed to go home today. I just got word that her chest tubes have been removed, which is an important step toward being released. She has a few more things that need to be done before she is cleared to go home, but it seems we’re on track for that to happen today. If you are a praying person, we invite prayers that all goes as planned and she can be released today. There is a winter storm headed to the DMV tomorrow, and it would be nice not to have to be on the roads around here tomorrow. Byond that, my wife is just ready to be home where she can control the food she ingests, and most of all, be back with her children whom she misses dearly.

As some of you know, I have Celiac on top of other medical issues. This means gluten makes me sick. The last couple of days it seems clear that gluten was sneaking into my diet. I ended up in bed much of yesterday afternoon very nauseous and struggling to lift my head off the pillow. Let’s just say hospitals aren’t always the best prepared for patients who have been “glutened.” The good news is that I am feeling better today. I am praying that this is the day chest tubes come out and I go home, Join me in those prayers as well as for pain relief,

[Another update from Alan] We (myself and the kids) are back home this morning after spending two days in Falls Church. The kids have virtual school and I am at least checking email for work. As I've reported before, considering Laurie just had major surgery five days ago, I think she's doing well. She’s been up walking around quite a bit, which is what they want. She is still in the hospital as of this morning. There was talk yesterday when I visited that she might go home today, but I thought that was overly optimistic given all that still needs to happen before she could be released. This morning her PA seemed be saying that tomorrow is more likely. I guess that would be six days in the hospital. I hope her release doesn’t slip to Thursday, so we don’t have to mess with driving that day, which sounds like it could be messy around here. As for me, I’m doing okay. We (including our two dogs) actually spent two nights in Falls Church this weekend. I was concerned about have to drive a long distance the ice on Saturday night, and once we went to the trouble to check into a hotel, we just stayed two nights. Although it obviously wasn’t free, getting out the house for a couple days might have been a good thing for all of us. It saved me the drive back and forth from Waldorf to Fairfax to visit for a couple of days. COVID didn’t allow the kids to do much other than sit in the hotel room and watch TV and play on their phones and tablets, but at least it was a change of scenery. They did at least get to swim in the indoor pool for a hour or so while we were there. I think I kind of hit the wall last night from it all. Once we got home and had dinner, I just zoned out on the couch watching TV.   A wave of tiredness just kind of washed over me. I feel better this morning, ready to tackle another day of caregiving.

Another morning waking up at the hotel in Falls Church. Today is the President’s Day Holiday. If there can be a silver lining in the six-day delay in Laurie’s surgery, it is that the timing set up so that I didn’t have to take too much time off work so far, and the kids had today off school as well. I had worked on MLK Day, so I could use the “floating holiday” on Friday. We will check out today. I will visit Laurie and then we’ll head back to Waldorf. The kids are back in virtual learning tomorrow, and at some point I have to get back into a routine that includes working. Laurie had another good day yesterday, although she did experience some nausea and vomiting yesterday morning—probably a reaction to one of her medicines. She keeps getting up and walking around the suite. She actually did two “laps” on one of her walks. On the lap she took while I was there, she moved much better than the day before. She made it all the way around without stopping, whereas the day before she had to stop and rest about half way around. Her goal is to be able to run around our lake once she heals. Her goal is to be able to run a lap around our lake in the Dorchester Neighborhood (in Waldorf, MD), which she has never been able to do before now. I joked with her that at this rate she’ll be running a 5K in no time! Her chest tubes have not yet been removed. It was hoped that this might happen yesterday but she still had drainage, so they waited another day. Removal of these tubes is considered a key step on toward her being ready to leave the hospital. Hopefully is those tubes can be removed today (Monday), and perhaps she’ll be ready to leave the hospital tomorrow (Tuesday). It all depends on how quickly things progress for her. They said plan for five days, give or take a day or two, so Tuesday would be five days since surgery. The kids, the dogs, and I spent the morning hanging out at our hotel. We got some lunch and then I headed to the hospital to visit Laurie while the kids stayed at the hotel. We’ve had some different venues for Valentine’s Day over the years, but this is the first time we spent it in a hospital room! But we were together, and that’s what mattered. We exchanges our gifts and we connected with the kids via FaceTime so she could watch them open their V-Day gifts, which of course mom had been sure to get well before she went to the hospital. Laurie had purchased a print, which I had framed and gave to her as one of her V-Day gifts. It has written on it a verse that sort of became a “theme verse” for this experience for us. A new heart I will give you, and a new spirit I will put within you, and I will remove from your body the heart of stone and give you the heart of flesh—Ezekiel 36:26. This verse has always been a favorite of mine, but it really has had special meaning over the past few months. We truly believe God—working through the skillful hands of cardiac surgeon Dr. Eric Sarin and his team at Inova Hospital—has indeed given my wife a “new heart,” or at least a surgically repaired one that we pray gives her a new lease on life. As I mentioned before, it is quite clear to us in hindsight that Laurie needed the procedure that she ended up having—and that she needed it to be done now. Waiting much longer might have been disastrous for my wife. We prayed to discern the right way to proceed; we prayed for God’s timing throughout this process, and I think God heard us and walked with us through every step of this process. The other gift I gave Laurie was a small pendant with a heart that has been stitched together, which she had pointed out to me. That one made me think of another verse that applies to a heart patient: The Lord is near to the broken-hearted and saves the crushed in spirit—Psalm 34:18. I know this verse is often applied in the context of spiritual and emotional brokenness, but our experience was that God was very close to my wife, whose heart was physically “broken” and in urgent need of repair—even more than she realized going in. I could see how the physical ailment impacted her spirit over time. Most of you may not have even noticed. She is strong and she kept on keeping on and doing what she needed to do (it’s what my wife does) but I can tell you the defect in her heart really began to take a toll. Particularly, in the last year it became clear that it needed to be addressed soon, and I’m grateful that it has now been done. Thanks once again to everyone that has been sending prayers and positive thoughts in our direction. I truly believe the prayers of the faithful do make a difference. How does it work? I don’t know.... Do our prayers change God’s “mind”? I don’t know. (A few Scriptures suggest that a particularly righteous person’s prayer might have, e.g., Moses.) Do they change the situation? Maybe. (God after all controls the physical world.) Do they change the recipient and or the person praying? My experience the last few weeks says, “Yes!”

I’m writing this entry in the strangely empty breakfast area (thanks to COVID) of the Homewood Suites by Hilton in Falls Church, VA. Sometimes I notice the background noise that surrounds me, with me hardly giving them a second thought. Right now Fox 5 news plays on a TV near me and in the back of the background, music plays via an unseen speaker. The occasional visitor comes to the breakfast bar, where the attendant must serve them in to-go containers. (Again, this is the COVID world in which we live today.) I didn’t manage to post an update yesterday. It was quite a busy day. Our adventure was deciding how to manage visiting Laurie in the midst of what was forecasted to potentially be “one of the worst ice storm to hit Southern Maryland in a decade.” (While I’m not sure if it lived up to the hype, one has to take ice seriously—and I think it got pretty bad last night after the sun went down.) I made the decision to check into a hotel in Falls Church for at least one night, so I could be close to the hospital if things got bad. On Saturday morning, the kids and I packed up the family—including our two dogs, who are allowed where we are staying, “for a ‘small’ extra fee”—and we headed over to Virginia around Noon time on Saturday. We drove in rain the whole way, the thermometer was below freezing for the whole trip, and we could see ice building on trees and on the sides of the road—but we didn’t have any problems with ice on the main roads we travelled. Parking lots and sidewalks were a different story; they were a bit treacherous, but we followed some advice my grandmom gave me years again whenever I drove with her as a young man; we “took it steady,” and made it to our hotel without incident. Once the kids were settled at the hotel happily watching reruns of “Jessie” on the Disney Channel and looking after the dogs, I drove to Inova to visit Laurie. As far as I can tell, she’s making great progress. Her asthma has been bothering her some, and she has had to have some breathing treatments, but overall she’s doing well. Dr. Sarin visited her again before I got there and said again that everything looks good with her heart. The second day after surgery is often one of the worst days for recovering patients, as the major pain killers applied during surgery wear off and nerve pain kicks in. While she certainly has pain, I’d say she is managing it with medication, and is determined to move as much as possible as soon as possible. (This is not her first rodeo when it comes to major surgery.) Laurie is in the step-down ICU unit now, where she has been since Friday evening. She took four “laps” around the suite yesterday, including one while I was there and accompanied her along with her “nurses.” I tweaked my lower back earlier this week, and have been having to compensate for that injury as best I can. It’s more a nuisance than a show-stopper, but I won’t lie, it complicates things for the caregiver. (Such things are never convenient, but of course it would happen the very week my wife has major surgery!) At some points on our walk I felt like I was moving worse than she was! Laurie had to explain to the staff why I was shuffling along like an old man. My son has several times commented, “Dad. You’re walking like Pop.” That would be my father, his 86 year old grandfather. I saw myself in the mirror at one point. Yikes! He’s right. I’m over 50 now; I guess my warranty has expired. Anyway, enough about me. My wife is after all the one recovering from heart surgery. We spoke via FaceTime last night, so she could say good night to the kids. I plan another visit today. Given the iciness outside this morning, I think it’s good that I don’t have to be on the roads until later. The kids can hang out at the hotel, which has a breakfast buffet and an indoor pool. In some ways, getting out of the house for a couple days may be good for all of us. It saves me having to commute an hour back and forth each day. Since we weren’t sure exactly how the storm would play out, we reserved two nights at hotel, and even though it turns out the weather won’t be an issue later today, we probably will just stay. That’s easier than dealing with packing up and going home today. We may do a FaceTime Valentine’s Day when I visit her, so the kids can see mom as well.

Day 2 after surgery has been work. I have taken several walks and have been out of bed all day. Hopefully I can lose the last of the tubes other than IV tomorrow. Day by day, by God’s grace and strength, I am making it through.

From Alan: I’m with Laurie in the ICU. She’s made lots of progress since I left her last night! She’s was sitting up in chair eating lunch (some anyway, not much appetite yet) when I arrived. She’s been up walking; she took a “lap”around the ICU earlier. They said most patients can’t do that much at first. But apparently they haven’t met my wife. Those of you who know her know that she can be rather determined when she really wants something. And my friends, she really wants to be well. She will be moved to step-down ICU unit when a bed opens up. She’s clearly tired, which is to be expected after major surgery. I told her that if she nods off, I won’t take it personally. I’m a Meyers–Brigs “I” and I always have a book nearby or my i-Pad for writing. As I write this, she’s been napping some, which is good. She needs her rest right now. Considering what she’s been through I’d say Laurie’s doing quite well! There’s obviously a road to travel for healing, but at least successful surgery is now behind us, for which we are all happy. It really turns out to be a good (God) thing that she had surgery both how she did (i.e., open heart and not TAVR as she’d originally hoped) and when she did. Dr. Sarin (her surgeon) said that Laurie’s aortic aneurism was quite a bit bigger than the pre-op tests had shown—which means it really needed to be addressed now. (He actually wonders if it got bigger just in the last few months.) Plus the valve had gotten really narrow and clearly needed fixing soon. The bottom line is that either or both of these issues would’ve become problems soon. It’s good that we addressed them now, while they were still elective, instead of waiting for them to get worse and possibly leading to a circumstance where we had no choice—and placing her life at greater risk. Dr. Sarin said to both me and Laurie in separate conversations, “He couldn’t give her the surgery she WANTED (i.e., the scar might be a little larger and the recovery a bit longer than she prefers), but he gave her the surgery she NEEDED.” That sounds suspiciously like what God says to us, sometimes. We get what we NEED—even if it’s not always what we WANT. In the end, I think my wife got what she NEEDED in this heart surgery. (I suppose if one has a to go through something like major like heart surgery, one might as well get what they NEED.) The doctor feels pretty strongly that she’ll have more energy once she heals. I pray he is right! We are grateful to the surgeon for what he did—and to the Chief Surgeon (God) who we believe has guided the whole process and will keep doing so, we pray for many years to come.

From Alan. As I write these words, Laurie has been in surgery for a little over two hours. After we said our goodbyes (a bit before 7 AM, which was the scheduled surgery time) and she was taken back to the operating room (OR), the nurse who did Laurie’s pre-op showed me where the waiting room was where the doctor would come to find me when surgery was done. After that, I put some of Laurie’s belonging that she wouldn’t need today in the car, and got some breakfast at Inova Hospital’s “Heart Healthy” Cafe. (I’m not sure if the food lives up to the name.) After spending a while there sending a few emails and updates, I came to the hospital chapel where I’ve been praying and writing for the last hour or so. I had to go on a bit of a quest to find the chapel. Laurie told me there was such a mythical place at Inova, but I didn’t find it listed on any of the signs that give directions around the hospital. I asked a lady at the reception desk at the Valve Institute, where Laurie had checked in earlier, where I could find the chapel. She explained the rather convoluted route to find it, and even drew me a little map on a fuchsia colored Post-It note. After following the map I made my way to a room labeled “Chaplaincy” I thought I might be getting warm. I asked another staff person, who sent me down yet one more hallway, where I found the object of my search. There’s a sign on the door that reads, “Interfaith Chapel.” If you weren’t specially looking for it, you might breeze right on past it. It’s a good thing there is a sign on the door, because upon entering the room I questioned if i was in the right place. There’s not the things you might expect to see in a chapel: no cross, no other religious symbols of any kind that I can really see, not much in the way of decoration. There were just a few benches and chairs organized roughly into rows and a lectern and table in the “front” of the room, with some fluorescent backlit opaque glass panels with fairly plain design. There is one small window but I think it looks out on an interior hallwa, not outside. Curiously, there’s also a small area in the “back” of the room curtained off. Maybe that’s the Holy of Holies? More likely it’s where they keep the wet-dry vac or other supplies. But I best not look in case I’m unworthy to view what’s behind. :) Oh well. Even though it’s not quite what I expect to see in a room labeled “Interfaith Chapel,” the lack of external religious symbols didn’t really bother me. My Christian faith teaches me that Christ dwells in me as I dwell in Christ, so there’s a sense that I carry the chapel within me. Any room I’m in can be a chapel of God. Even if there isn’t much fanfare about the place, it’s still nice that Inova provides a space as a a chapel where one can intentionally step away and focus on whatever Higher Power one recognizes while one is here. In this space, for the first time in a while, I feel like really could exhale and pray deeply. Of course Laurie and I already prayed together several times this morning. Ever the pastor, my wife prayed with members of the team who would be taking care of her in the OR before they wheeled her back. Beyond that, we’d been praying for months, since we’ve known Laurie’s diagnosis about a year ago, and as she/we tried to discern the best course of treatment and the proper timing for surgery. But particularly with the unexpected six-day delay from her original surgery date, it’s been a strange time in limbo the past week. We had to adjust our plans from what we though we’d be doing. Then, this morning was hectic, as we had to get up at 3 AM and do all that was required to make it to the hospital in time. All that to say that up until this moment it’s been a challenge for me to really fully engage prayer. This morning, when I entered that somewhat sterile space labeled “chapel” and sat a while in the silence, I finally did it. I sat there and just prayed. I actually got on my knees and prayed for my wife, for our family, for this whole situation. I have to be honest and say I can’t remember the last time I really did that. It wasn’t that the other prayers “didn’t take,” but there was just something about being more intentional about it—and doing it while my wife is in surgery. Sitting in that quiet place, I could also feel all the prayers that surround Laurie right now, and surround me. I’m grateful for friends and family who are supporting us as we walk this road. The presence of fellow travelers is indeed a blessing. We are interdependent beings who need one another to truly Iive as God intends.

From Alan. Laurie went into surgery right about when she was scheduled. I’m told the procedure usually takes 4.5 to 5.5 hours. So the waiting game begins. All prayers and positive thoughts are greatly appreciated.

After a delay last week, I am set for surgery in the morning at 7 a.m. Thank you all for the prayers and love that you have offered to me. I trust that those prayers will sustain me and the medical team tomorrow and in coming days. Please also include my husband, Alan, our children and my mother as they await news. Alan will post information here after surgery is complete. Blessings to all of you!

I got the call this afternoon that my surgery has been rescheduled to next Thursday, February 11. When the office told me last night that it would either be next Tuesday or next Thursday, I knew it would be Thursday. Because for the last several months, it was always on Thursdays that I got heart tests and significant phone calls about results I had been waiting for. The echocardiogram that started this journey was Thursday, February 13, 2020 (boy did we not know what was coming in the weeks ahead). Every other test that I have had from repeat echocardiograms to CT angiograms to Cardiac Catheterization/Transesophageal Echo was on a Thursday. It was on a Thursday that I was told in the same day that I was to be scheduled for TAVR and then told later in the day that I would have to have open heart surgery instead. It was yesterday, a Thursday that I was told my surgery was being rescheduled. So when the nurse told me last night that it would either be next Tuesday or next Thursday, I knew. Why Thursday? I have no idea. Thursday is named for the god Thor, known for his strength. And it was on Maundy Thursday that Jesus began his journey to Resurrection that would go through the cross first. For me, it is clearly my heart day. And so next Thursday, at 7 a.m., I will finally get my heart fixed. I pray for strength to face it and for a new life as I heal.

I just got the news that no heart patient awaiting surgery wants to hear. "Your surgery is canceled for tomorrow. There are no beds available." INVOVA is a large campus with a separate building for heart patients as well as a building for women and for children in addition to the main hospital. Every bed is apparently full. Which means surgeries scheduled tomorrow cannot proceed. For a heart patient, it is said that the lead up to open heart surgery is worse than the thing itself. I can attest to how challenging that wait is and now I wait some more. But I am reminded of one of my favorite verses, “But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint” (Isa. 40:31). My greatest hope for this surgery is that I will be able to run when all is done and I am healed. But for today, I wait. And I trust that God has me as God has had me every day to this moment. Please pray for a new date to be scheduled soon and pray for my family as they adjust to this bump in the road.

The week of my surgery has finally arrived. I am wrapping up last details of home and church but today marks the first day of my leave. I want to thank everyone for their prayers. They have felt like a warm blanket embracing me with God's love. As we approach surgery day on Friday, I want to let you know that Alan will be posting updates here throughout that day and this weekend. Once I am up to it, I will add my own updates.

Welcome to my heart journal! I will be having open heart surgery on February 5th at INOVA Heart and Vascular Institute to replace my aortic valve. I was born with a bicuspid aortic valve or BAV (which wasn't diagnosed until I was 17). Some people, like my mother, go their whole lifetime never needing any treatment for a BAV, but some of us end up needing a valve replacement. Because a BAV starts out with a smaller opening, it is especially prone to narrowing or aortic stenosis. Symptoms of aortic stenosis, include tiredness, shortness of breath, palpitations and dizziness, which I have experienced over the last year. My valve replacement will be done via a mini-sternotomy, a minimally invasive open heart prodecure. While I am not looking forward to open heart surgery, I am very much looking forward to feeling a whole lot better once I am recovered. I welcome your prayers during my surgery, hospitalization and recovery.