Boulevard, February 2008
Dr. Suzanne Steinbaum
She told me that she was going to lose a toe. That the doctor said she needed it removed. Separated from her body for the rest of her life. Her face was expressionless, almost bland, very matter of fact. On the other hand, I felt like I couldn’t breath. She was only 35.
Sometimes I feel like I live 10 lifetimes in a single day. I don’t mean that in any grandiose way. I’m not on planes traveling to exotic places. I am not eating five star cuisine which is scrumptious to the palate. I am not seeing the Seven Wonders of the World. Yet, everyday I have the opportunity to run the gamut of emotions from rebirth to death interspersed with anxiety, pain, fortitude, morality and happiness.
A day can pass where I feel that the efficiency of life is in stride, and I go through the motions of my job with satisfaction and calm. But, often times I am struck by the delicate balance of life and death and the full range of emotions that is provoked by this. I am so lucky to be reminded, everyday, of the preciousness of life.
Several months ago, a doctor called me. Her friend was having chest pain and palpitations, and, being that he also was a physician, he diagnosed himself as having “unstable angina”, otherwise known as the chest pain that sometimes occurs when a heart attack is impending. He underwent some testing, including a CT angiogram which is a 3-dimensional non-invasive reproduction of the coronary arteries, demonstrating whether or not blockages were the reasons behind the symptoms. His arteries were completely clear. In fact, they were without any evidence of plaque. His palpitations were due to a heart rhythm which is not dangerous, and often triggered by caffeine. He stopped drinking coffee, and within one week, he felt back to normal. He wrote me and said, “…I feel like I am reborn with a second chance. This was a wake up call.”
Not all stories end with a wake-up call and not all patients leave with good news. Sometimes they are told that they need further procedures, surgery, or, perhaps an amputation. And, I, often the deliverer of the news, go through the range of emotions of what it feels like to be the person in those shoes. Some call it empathy. I call it a constant reminder. It makes me feel like doing laundry is a gift, that grocery shopping is a treat and that getting the chance to wake up tomorrow and do it all over again is simply a blessing.
Several days before Christmas, I had seen the wife of a patient I had known for years. She had been going to a physical therapist for terrible neck pain and tingling down her arm. Her right hand was cramping every time she walked and she had spent months in physical therapy, with no improvement in her symptoms. We had reviewed her blood tests and her medical reports, and with a known history of some plaque formation, high cholesterol and a family history of heart disease, a stress test was performed. I called her and her husband and told them that she needed an immediate hospital admission for her neck pain. I believed, in fact, that this pain was her heart and she needed an emergent angiogram, which invasively diagnoses the plaque, and allows for treatment through the placement of a stent if necessary. The next morning with skepticism of her neck pain being anything more than just that, she was diagnosed with a 99.9% blockage of a major artery down the front of her heart. She had a stent placed and was sent home the next day.
An email I received made me take a deep breath, yet again. “Thank you for giving me another New Year with my wife.”
We all know that we need to take care of ourselves, that the world is an unpredictable place and uncertainty looms behind every door. We know that we need to eat right, exercise, manage our stress, and find inner solace and peace to live fully and healthfully. We know all of these things. As soon as something intervenes in our lives to make things less comfortable, less simple, less healthy, we suddenly are reminded of the gifts that we have. I just always wonder- is it simply that everyone is waiting for their own personal wake up call?
Do you just accept what it is as your reality? Do you succumb to your present, and not fight for your fate? Can you be told you are going to lose a toe and outwardly be complacent, while screaming inside? We can often figure out how to smell the roses, but can you always savor their scent? Don’t wait for your wake up call. Ultimately tomorrow is in your own hands. And, truly, you can decide that everyday you will live a lifetime.
