Our Labor Day Scare

On the Sunday before Labor Day, we were just having another ordinary day. Come to think of it, it was one of those Sunday's at church when the spirit is particularly strong. I remember feeling during Sunday School that the spirit was particularly strong and we were having such an awesome lesson.

On my way home from church, Janae had already gone home with the kids, and I had to stay behind to ask someone to teach the Temple Prep class for the 4 young men leaving soon for their missions in our ward. I spoke with that person who gladly accepted the assignment and then on my way out I bumped into our good friends the Gortons. I spoke with them and was so happy to see them. We had a great conversation and then I walked home.

The minute I came inside, Janae came rushing down the stairs and said, "Dale, your Dad had a heart attack, we need to go". I don't even remember saying it, but Janae said I said, "well we don't really need to go down then". I think I was in shock. Actually, thinking back, I remember thinking, the Lord had really been with me that day, and I just knew whatever happened, whether my Dad was dead or alive, he would be okay because of the plan of salvation.

In any case, .....I never answer my cell phone, actually, where is my cell phone? Exactly, I hardly ever have my cell phone near me. Turns out my Mom, Stu and Tresca had tried calling and it was at home while we were at church. Janae, luckily, had gotten on to check her email and Tresca had emailed, CALL IMMEDIATELY. This is such a scary thing that I never wish upon anyone to go through.

We hurried and got dressed and jumped in the car. We explained to the kids what had happened and I don't think the gravity of the situation really sunk in for them. I just remember feeling really calm as we drove to Provo. (Come to think of it, it may have been the exhilaration of driving nearly 100 mph on the freeway without Janae even complaining!!). I just remember feeling really calm on the drive down and I know the spirit was with us telling us that everything was going to be okay.

We got down to UVRMC and went straight to the ICU. Memo to IHC, you are way lacking in your care of those affected by tragedies. You really need to get someone there on a Sunday afternoon that can direct people to the correct location. There was no receptionist and I just sneaked into the ICU because some janitors were happening to come out. I went straight to my Dad and the first thing he says "the nurse asked me if I have any allergies, I said yes to Obama". I knew my Dad was going to be okay. A few times, though, he was out of it. He asked if it was December and if the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor or something.

When the dust settled and after assisting my mom in filling out the medical forms, she explained that Dad was not feeling well (we had just been down to visit the day before and come to think of it, I just realized you never know when you tell a loved one that you love them, if that will be the last time you get to tell them.). Good thing my Dad, still being the diligent man that he was to go to his Bishopric meeting on BYU campus. He knew he wasn't feeling well, and was going to drive to the ER himself. Here is where we feel like the miracle happened. Had my Dad gotten a few steps further, he would have collapsed in the parking garage which is vacant on Sundays, no-one would have found him. He collapsed in the lobby and who happened to be there, but an E.R. paramedic / student and a nursing student who rendered first aid immediately. When my Dad came to, they asked where he was going and he asked someone to get the Bishop. The Bishop and the Stake President gave him a Priesthood blessing. He was transported to the hospital, right across the street from BYU campus.

The Doctor told my mom this could have been fatal. We think even just being at home would have been a few minutes longer. This solidified my testimony about being in the right place on time, even if you are not feeling well, the Lord was really watching over my Dad and my family.

It turns out, my Dad thought he called my Mom right away, but when he recounted the events, it was actually over an hour that he was out and then in surgery and then recalls calling my Mom. My poor Mom was just waiting for my Dad to pick her up for church and had called his cell phone. The ER Doctor called my Mom and said everything is okay, but your husband has had a heart attack and is in surgery.

It turns out this was a clogged artery that finally sealed and delivered a fatal blow. The marvels of medical technology (before Obama's bureaucratic government takes over and kills us all) -- they go in through the groin without having to cut open the chest and cleared out the artery.

My Dad is now on the path to recovery. Diet and exercise and lots of prayers and time off work.

We are grateful that his life was spared and we have even a more refined focus of what life is all about. There is no sense in ever holding grudges or not forgiving. It is senseless to do so, life is too short and precious to do that. Janae and I are grateful that we don't hold anything against anyone and that we've done our best to forgive. (Not saying anything to do with my Dad, but just speaking about people in general). Life is too short to ever hold anything against anyone. I am grateful for my Dad's example and that he felt like if the Lord called him home, he would not have had any major things he would have worried about. He knew that his family would be fine and that he would be fine and all would have worked out well.

Dale