ACFW Day One: Living to Tell the Story!

I mentioned in a previous post how the day before I was to attend the ACFW I get a phone call that my sister had a heart attack. It was odd, but I had no concern for my sister’s health, just a peace that everything would be alright.

Still the news posed several obstacles. Thankfully she lived 45 minutes from where the conference was being held so I would be able to see her AND attend the conference. Definitely a God thing.

But transportation was going to be an issue. I was supposed to ride down with a friend in her car, but then how would I get to my sister’s? I didn’t want to drive her big Suburban and I didn’t want to rent a car. So I thought, “How about if I drive?” I offered the idea to a friend, but because of car obligations on Friday night (one of our riding mates committed to drive two other ladies out to dinner Friday night and couldn’t get a hold of them) that wasn’t going to work. My initial reaction was frustration and hurt. I felt my immediate need was much greater than driving people to dinner on Friday night, and though I couldn’t understand the logic in it, I chose not to hold on to my bitterness. I wasn’t excited about the alternative of driving to Dallas alone, but it worked out for the best. I was able to stay even longer at my sisters so all things did work together for good.

On Wednesday morning I left by myself (sniffle). Driving to ACFW with my roommate has been a tradition for three years. It’s the one time we really get to talk and connect about life, family and writing. I missed that driving alone. Maybe that’s one of the reason’s I felt a little disconnected at the conference.

Since I was driving up early and nothing was happening Wednesday night, I decided to drive straight to the hospital in Fort Worth. I was a little sad and disappointed I would miss out on the socializing and dinner outings Wednesday night, but I figured if I left the hospital early enough there’d be plenty of time for hanging out.

When I saw my sister, she looked and acted normal, except for the hospital gown. She told me the story of what actually happened and how she learned her right coronary artery was 100% blocked, just like my dad’s had been.

Apparently on Monday evening after dinner she felt a lot of pain in her chest. She started to get nauseous and was sweating. The pain was crushing like an elephant was sitting on her chest. Then it passed. She thought it odd and potentially serious, but since it passed she started to get ready for bed. Then it happened again and she was flat on her back with the same symptoms. It passed again. Her husband offered to take her to the hospital, but her daughter was sleeping and she didn’t want to drag her out of bed. (Just like a mom!) So she went through the night with pain in her chest. She wasn’t able to sleep. The next morning after she put her daughter on the bus to school, they went to the heart center and gave her all sorts of tests.

Her EKG, cholesterol, and blood pressure were fine. But her spiked enzymes told the truth. She had a heart attack at 36 years old.

A heart attack at 36. Yes, she was a smoker. Not anymore. If a heart attack at 36 doesn’t help you kick the habit, nothing else will.

I spent some time with her talking and laughing and reminiscing, then I drove to the hotel where I had a unique introduction to James Scott Bell, the conferences Key Note Speaker. But I’ll save that story for tomorrow!