My husband had been released from the Cleveland Clinic on the evening of day 6, but we didn’t drive home that night. His medical team had recommended that we stay in the area for another day or two, just in case he experienced any problems. They booked a follow-up appointment for him two days later.
That first evening was such a relief. No more tubes and wires connected to him. No more beeping monitors or hospital announcements. He was able to rest in a big comfy bed without being checked and poked and prodded all night long. Even though it wasn’t home, it was the next best thing to it.
We hung around the hotel on day 7, allowing Fred to rest, sleep, and do his walking regimen. He still tired quickly and had little stamina, but we knew it would all get better in due course.
I had another visit from my friend Donah after lunch, which helped to break up the day. The rest of the time, I worked on my sketches. I had a table and chair near a sunny window in our two-room suite, so Fred could nap in the bedroom while I was in the living room painting.
When we went out to dinner that evening, it almost felt like life was getting back to normal, except that I was chauffeuring Fred around while he rode in the back seat with his red heart pillow on his chest. It isn’t safe for him to ride in the front seat where there’s an airbag until six weeks after his surgery. It would be too risky if there were an accident. (The pillow cushions his incision from the seat belt.)
The mental and physical exhaustion I had felt since the surgery had abated somewhat now that he was out of the hospital, but this stage of the process came with a new set of challenges. Now I was charged with taking care of him instead of those competent, well-trained nurses.
The next day, he was feeling so strong that he walked two blocks to the hospital for his follow-up appointment (with a couple of pauses to rest along the way). He underwent more testing to check his heart and lungs, and then we met with a boisterous CNP (Certified Nurse Practicioner) who gave us a very entertaining pep talk before sending us on our way.
It was over. Time to go home!
We picked up the van at the clinic parking garage and drove back to the hotel to celebrate with a nice big breakfast. Then we packed up and made our escape.
I tucked Fred into the back seat once again and single-handedly loaded all of our luggage and gear before heading for good ol’ PA. (Fred is prohibited from driving and lifting more than ten pounds for the next six weeks. And he can’t vacuum either…darn it!)
Traveling home that bright, sunny afternoon, I felt deeply grateful that everything had gone so well, better than I had dared to hope.
Fred had been confident from the beginning that the outcome would be good. He had educated himself on what to expect and did everything they told him to do to prepare mentally and physically. And he found comfort in knowing that we were going to the best possible place for his surgery.
He was brave in the face of uncertainty. He coped with the pain, exhaustion, fear, and discomfort like a trooper and is continuing to work on his recovery at home each day. He’s feeling good and gradually gaining endurance and strength. He’ll start a cardiac rehab program in a few weeks, and, hopefully, by summer, should be fully recovered and feeling MUCH better than he has for years.
As for me, I’m amazed when I look back and realize how important my decision to keep a journal about this experience was. I’m not sure how I would have coped without it. I had been dealing with so many challenging family issues in the months leading up to the surgery – I felt tired, emotionally drained, and fragile before we even headed to Cleveland.
So then what made me decide to pour myself into journaling these experiences? If I was feeling wrung out and exhausted, did I really need another commitment, something else that demanded my time and energy?
The thing is, sketching energizes me. Designing a page gets me excited. And the focus that it requires is the best distraction I know to take me away from my problems. I become totally engrossed when I’m drawing and painting. The rest of the world recedes and I’m in my own little happy place where nagging thoughts and worries disappear. It’s better than counseling or drugs. It’s my therapy and meditation. I knew it would help me to cope with the hours of waiting, the mental anguish, and other challenges that would inevitably come my way.
Another reason I decided to keep a heart journal was that I wanted a record of this momentous thing that was happening to us. Heart surgery doesn’t just happen to the patient, it impacts everyone in the family, most especially the wife who acts as caregiver. Fred had always been incredibly healthy, so it rocked our world when he was diagnosed with a fatal heart condition. It was terrifying to know that I could lose him very soon if nothing was done. Even though I didn’t know at the time how things would go, I wanted a record of the experience because it would be a turning point in our lives.
In a way, the journal felt like a gift I could give to Fred when I was helpless to do anything else.
So that’s pretty much why I bothered to do this. And once the journal was done, I had an inkling that it might help someone else if I shared it.
I’ve always been an evangelist for sketchbook journaling. It has added joy to my life, captured memories both good and bad, and connected me with people all over the world. I love it for all the reasons mentioned earlier, and I want others to know that it offers a way to help deal with what life throws our way. It’s a way to practice mindfulness and look for the good in each day.
And I wanted to share Fred’s story – our story – to let people know that when life throws a huge obstacle in your way, approaching it with acceptance, pragmatism, and a positive attitude will help to foster a good outcome.
I’ve learned over the years that I shouldn’t be surprised when bad things happen in life. Why should I expect it to always go smoothly? I’m so glad I’ve found something that helps me to deal with life’s ups and downs in a positive way. For a type-A person like me, being able to accomplish something instead of feeling frustrated and helpless in a challenging situation helps to keep me on an even keel. At least there’s something that’s in my control.
I still have a few blank pages to fill in this journal. I’m planning to do a follow-up page when he has his six-week check-up, and again when we return to Cleveland for an appointment on his one-year anniversary. Let’s hope it will be more good news that I’ll be recording!
Thanks for following along and for taking the time to share your thoughts. I love feeling connected to all of you, and I appreciate the care and support I’ve felt throughout this journey from friends near and far. We’re all in this crazy life together. I’m glad we have each other.
42 Comments
Thank you for sharing your story, and how much art helped you cope with Fred’s situation.
Continued best wishes for his full recovery!
Cheryl
Thank you for sharing such a personal journey. So inspiring! Glad Fred is doing so well. Remember to take care of “you” also.
Chris K
Dear Leslie,
All the best for Fred’s safe recovery. Thanks for sharing, As a caregiver, patience is one of the hardest virtues to master and don’t forget that Sunshine is always just behind the clouds. Be well and have a wonderful 2024!
Diane Washburn
Patience isn’t my strong suit, that’s for sure. This whole process is teaching me so much. Best wishes for a happy 2024 to you, too, Diane.
Thank you for sharing this life event and your creative and inspirational method of journaling. Best wishes for a continued healthy success!
Thanks, I hope it will be helpful to someone else going through difficult times.
❤️
Your journey brought back many memories, we are almost 2 years out. I wish I would have known you were there, I am only 20 minutes away.
Your artwork is so beautiful, inspiring and you brought us into your family, thank you. I read your hospital journal many times and sent prayers. What a relief to be home with Fred 😊
Thank you, Patricia, for keeping us in your prayers. It’s much appreciated.
Thank you for sharing all of this. It is a wonderful way to encourage and be uplifting in a difficult circumstance.
Your’s and Fred’s story will live on and help many!!
He’s pretty tickled with it. 🙂
What a wonderful way to reduce your stress, record your experience and encourage others to draw their own lives during bad as well as good times. A very generous share.
Thanks, Lin. Even though it was a serious thing we were going through, I intentionally kept things light in the journal. It was more helpful to me than dwelling on the fear, exhaustion, pain, and worry. I’m glad you enjoyed following along.
Art is definitely a type of therapy. I had to undergo a life changing surgery this past summer. It was only due to my love of painting and drawing that I got through a challenging experience. Thanks for sharing this story with everyone. Looking forward to more good news from you.
You understand firsthand how helpful it is. It’s incredible, really, the impact it can have on our mental state.
Oh my! I love a story with a happy ending! Thank you so much for sharing it. My husband had cancer surgery 2 years ago and this certainly brought back memories. He is doing well and we have returned to our regular activities. I pray the same for you and Fred.
Glad to hear your husband is doing well. Fred is noticing a difference already and says it was worth all the pain and discomfort to feel better (and know he’s going to be with us for awhile!)
Thanks so much for sharing your journal and the personal side notes in today’s blog. I appreciate your message of how a journal can be so much more than just a record of one’s travels; it can help us cope when life throws us those nasty obstacles. I look forward to reading good news when you finish the final pages in this journal.
I’m glad you enjoyed following our story, Sharon. It was difficult for me to share something so personal, but it seems to have touched a chord with a lot of people. I’ll keep posting when I add new pages.
Leslie, this story and your sketches are phenomenal. What a gift you’ve been given; for you and Fred! I pray when the storms come my way( as they inevitably will!) that I will be able to face those trials as admirably as you and Fred did. Prayers for both of you and your return to a semblance of normalcy soon, and may your strength increase and fears decrease. What a wonderful record. Well done.
Thank you for those encouraging words, Lisa. I’m so glad our story touched you in a positive way.
What a happy ending. As everyone has said, thank you for letting us follow along with you. Really inspiring.
And, if you don’t mind, a “technical” question: I’d never heard of the Lightwish journal that you used. Amazon has mixed reviews about the quality. What do you think?
This was the first time I’ve used that brand, but I didn’t have any problems with it. It performed very well. I could layer and lift paint. It took watercolor washes and the fine-point pens well. I like the sturdy cover, elastic strap, and the envelope inside the back cover. It’s a great little sketchbook, and I would use it again.
Thank you for writing and painting about this. Your story was very special for me as I had the exact heart concerns as your husband; and 7 years ago I underwent open heart surgery. Today, all is well and I expect it will be the same for him. His courage and your artwork are so inspiring.
That’s good to hear. I’m looking forward to the day when this is all a distant memory.
Your Journal is wonderful! Thank you for sharing something so personal and uplifting. You turned a scary event into something hopeful and positive. Your art is a blessing for everyone.
Thank you, Debi. I appreciate your kind comments.
Dear Leslie, I don’t know if enjoyed
is the right word but I have been very interested in your and Fred’s story. I am very grateful that Fred has come out of it so well. And I have sympathized with you for how you have had to go through it also. God bless you both, take care, love, Sandy
Thank you for taking the time to read and comment. It means a lot to me.
Thank you so much, Sandy.
I’ve loved following your and Fred’s journey, but especially yours as a very talented writer and artist. Your documentation of the entire experience is just awesome! I feel privileged to follow it with your clever sketches and keen observations. Thank you so much.
And you were a part of it! Thanks for making the drive to come and see me at the hospital and again later at the hotel. It was so nice to spend time together one-on-one.
Leslie I read all about Fred’s heart journey and I celebrate that he is doing well. I am only about two hours from Cleveland as well (in Ohio). My father had a similar heart surgery many years ago and did wonderful. He would have gone to Cleveland Clinic but his surgeon was originally from there and did the surgery in Canton Ohio which was much closer for us. Your sketches and story and sharing is inspiring. Will be praying that Fred and you continue to blossom and by next year his health will be completely strong. God Bless.
Thank you for sharing your and Fred’s story.
I enjoyed reading it and looking at your sketches. Wishing you both the best in his healing journey.
Thanks for sharing Fred’s and your journey! You definitely have the gift of words as well as watercolor to share with everyone! So glad that everything has turned out well for you both and I pray that he gets better and stronger each day!
Thanks, Sara. I just try to write from the heart.
Thank you for sharing your journey. I’m finding journaling during stressful times is like having my feet cemented to the ground while the wind tries to blow me away. Your story through a scary time is an inspiration.
Thank you, Audrey. What a vivid image you’ve painted with words!
Hi Leslie,
Here’s to new beginnings! I’m so happy for you and your husband!
Reading the account of your husband’s journey brought back painfull images of 14 years ago (this month!) when my husband underwent a liver transplant. Words can’t express that journey for the wife/cargiver. Fear, stress, worry, exhaustion…”One foot in front of the other”…
I took my watercolor supplies to the hospital, but I found myselff stymied with no motivation to create. Journalling would have been a way to not only document the event (I kept a written journal of everything as it happened, but it is painful to read), but a creative outlet to pass my time and perhaps bring some sort of feeling of having done SOMETHING while everything around me was out of my control. Thank you for sharing your journey. You too are a survivor of the trauma, and Creativity is a wonderful coping strategy.
I wonder, did you take photos and then draw/paint from them later when you had time to focus? His first walk for example? Lying in bed with all the tubes, etc,,?
I’m glad to have found your blog and look forward to continue our creative networking journey!
Best wishes! Ruthie
Hi Ruthie – Thanks for writing. I’m so glad you and your husband survived that ordeal. We all do what we have to do, don’t we?
Yes, I took photos and used them as references when I was sketching in the waiting room and in his room when he was in the step-down unit. I did most of the drawing and a lot of the painting while I was at the hospital, but a few of the sketches were finished up after I got home. There wasn’t time to get it all done while we were in Cleveland.
Hi Leslie, I just ordered your book/journal that chronicles your experience. I am going thru a medical situation with my sister and there have been several procedures involving her lungs. I, too, decided to take my sketchbook along but there were too many distractions for drawing during the short hospital stays. As a retired scientist, I do have my detailed written notes and plan to add sketches soon. It is amazing how life and its obstacles happen fast. I wish your husband continued recovery and wellness and I thank-you for sharing your story.
Thanks for writing, Vivian. I hope your sister is on the mend. How good of you to be there for her during this distressing time.