JCK-at-large SITE

I came across my old college friend Bob Smith the other day, out for a morning walk with Brenda.  Nothing unusual, on a beautiful September morning — except that Bob should not be with us.

He had settled into his comfortable recliner on a Sunday afternoon, December 2020, when he took a heart attack and stopped breathing!  It took twenty minutes for 911 to bring the Paramedics to the door — during which time Bob showed no vital signs: no heart beat, no breathing.  

Miraculously, to be sure, and through the wonders of CPR, they brought Bob back!  Then they wheeled him into the ambulance and he was off to the hospital on the express route!  Hospital, Intensive Care — Bob was on the long road back to rehabilitation.

Sixteen months of rehab awaited, during which time he received all the intensive care imaginable as the medical people worked on getting Bob back on his feet at full capacity.  COVID 19 complicated the process by restricting access from interested parties and family.

Gradually phone calls started to come from Bob’s bed.  There were signs of improvement and he had his hands on a cellphone! Then on April 4, 2022  we got a note from one of his church members with the great news: “It was an amazing few moments as we watched Pastor Bob, walking unaided, back and forth before the altar, hands raised in worship. It has been a long 15 months as he has slowly gained health and strength.  Memorable highlight!”

One remaining problem: the feeding tube. At first, the medical opinion was that Bob’s epiglottis had been damaged during CPR and/or from the intubation tube while on a respirator for two weeks in ICU.  However, as time went on, the specialist’s opinion was that it was neurological, and that no surgical remedy was available.  As Bob would try to swallow, instead of food going down the proper channel, it would go down into his lungs and he would get aspiration pneumonia.  This made normal eating impossible.  Bob was facing the prospect of living on a feeding tube indefinitely. 

But the miracles had not ceased!  We received the text message the following June.  It came with a picture of Bob holding a fork, always one his favourite implements, for the first time in sixteen months.  And the note read, “Very special day yesterday.  So nice to eat.”  

Now that we are neighbours for these few weeks in the same summer community, while Bob savours some much-deserved vacation time, we find nothing more enjoyable than watching him enjoy scrambled eggs and donuts washed down with plenty of ice water.  “Food, glorious food!”  Real food, lakeshore air — we see Bob gaining strength every day.

So, seeing Bob and Brenda walk the neighbourhood in the mornings is pretty special.  It’s like a fulfilment of the ancient promise: “With God nothing shall be impossible.”  I tell him he’s a “walking miracle.” 

“And why do you think you were given this additional season to breathe God’s wonderful air?” I ask.  “Has he told you why He decided to keep you around?”

“I ask Him that every day,” says Bob.  “Just tell me, Lord, what you want me to do.”

Yet I tend to think this miraculous recovery may have been a “vital sign” for our benefit, we the old college mates who need to be reminded every day that God is always faithful and always good.  Of course, when two fairly old gents have such a conversation, no longer the college mates that they once were, pressing eighty years of age as they speak — they know all too well that the energy of the college years has waned.  As Tennyson puts it, in the words of old Ulysses, 

“We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven.”

Yet we share something of the old king’s indomitable passion, which pulsates throughout the poem, to be true to one’s calling, to follow the vision: 

“Though much is taken, much abides…

‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world” (‘Ulysses’).