THANKSGIVING HUBRIS
Many years and lifetimes ago, after digging in on our traditional Thanksgiving meal, we would go around the table and say what we were thankful for.
Before my son’s cardiac arrest, and even though we were blessed to have saved his life, still this life was different…for all of us, having experienced our child’s death, regardless of the outcome. He died. Sudden cardiac arrest is terminal unless CPR ensues immediately and a defibrillator is available soon. But at the time of the Thanksgiving meal just a couple of months after his event, the tradition of going around the table and saying what we’re thankful for just didn’t work.
In the past, nearly all thanksgiving went to our health.
“I’m thankful for my health.”
“I’m thankful for my good doctors.” Ditto. Ditto. Ditto.
We were proud of our good health, and our parents living into their 90’s, having beat the longevity of their ancestors, some of whom died in their 40s! Some studies show that the greatest predictor of a long life is not exercise. It’s not organic food. It’s the age of our parents. Matt blew that statistic right out of the ballpark! But honestly, even mom and dad grace us with their presence because of doctors. Mom and Dad have had lifesaving procedures, turning their bodies over to skilled cardiologists and surgeons. They might have passed away before the age of their folks if it hadn’t been for their docs.
That year the Thanksgiving hubris just didn’t go over. We started out…and Matt (who died and was resuscitated by our own hands…now there’s something to be thankful for), was still not over it. He started to get emotional and left the room. And if his dad and I are examples of how long that day will be remembered like it was yesterday, even though now almost two decades behind us, he never will be “over it.” We can still be brought to tears when someone asks about him. His scholarship to play for the University of Texas Longhorns was honored, but he could never play football again. Everyone sees his saving as something wonderful. A blessing. They see God’s hand in it. So do we. But sometimes we wonder why.
He even admits to the logic in that, but the worldly side…he flat out didn’t get to play football. Believe me that’s a compelling emotional gotcha. There were many who felt that loss besides Matt, including his coaches at UT. And even us, his mom and dad. Keep in mind, that he did not experience his own death! Sometime between getting defibrillated and the ER, he woke up and had no idea what happened to him. And at the time, he was 17! If I cry when football season starts, and the players rush out on the field with the pomp and circumstance of something hard to describe in words, then perhaps he does too. And sometimes I ask him.
He says he is better off. That if he was offered that day back, he would choose to play, because of all the good that came from it. Lives saved by defibrillators on the sidelines and at all UIL events. Random lives saved too! People who aren’t athletes yet suffered a cardiac arrest while they were walking through the schools now armed with defibrillators on the walls everywhere. Let’s not forget about concussions. TBE – traumatic brain injury.
The sparing of his knees, his shoulders and back, well really, his body. Big offensive linemen die relatively young compared to other positions. And they suffer in pain while waiting.
Matt became the poster boy for the use of CPR and defibrillators at all football games and in all schools. My offices all purchased defibrillators. Once Texas made it a law and funded it, then it spread across the country.
But there was more work to be done. Matt has directly saved two lives! The first by doing the Heimlich maneuver on a woman in a restaurant. Three other people tried. The commotion reached Matt’s ears, and he rushed to see if there was something he could do. She was losing consciousness and her lips were blueish when he reached her. She was on death’s doorstep. But one big giant squeeze from our Bubba, and that piece of meat came shooting out of her mouth.
The second one was in the quiet parking lot of a football stadium. Matt had gone to a playoff game between his alma mater and one of their district competitors. His team was winning and there was little chance luck would turn it the other way. He was on call for Abbott labs, the company for whom he works selling defibrillators like the one he has in his chest. He didn’t want to get called in from his seat at a football game, so he wanted to beat the crowd. Suddenly he heard the sickening thunk of a head hitting the pavement behind him. An elderly man was lying unconscious on the ground. Matt felt for a pulse. None. “Call 911” to some other people trying to beat the crowd. He started CPR. EMS arrived soon, but not soon enough to prevent brain damage, if CPR was not started. Brain cells begin to burn up quickly, as does everything else. CPR gets oxygen to the brain and other organs, including the heart. The EMT told Matt that he probably saved this guy’s life.
Saving a person’s life has a profound effect. As an orthopedic surgeon, I didn’t save any lives. I might have helped save a life by stabilizing their bones, but actually saving a life…well, that would be my son’s life, right? You feel some sense of grace when you save another’s life. It’s the most important thing you can do for someone, especially when their life is totally in your hands and they are helpless. When you are helpless, thank God for sending someone who knows how to help.
The next day one of his docs scheduled an add on case using Matt’s devices. When he arrived, the doctor said, “I think you know this guy. He says you saved his life!”
Matt wondered if his life was spared if only to save those two people. It’s enough.
We can think of so many other things to be thankful for while we finish our turkey and dressing.