Surviving a Widowmaker

And a new nickname--"Unknown Maroon Outlander"

I don’t remember much after waking up in our camper that sultry Saturday morning near New Hampton, Iowa. Maybe some Keurig coffee? Sharing a school bus seat with a tie-dyed doo-rag lady. Meeting my brother-in-law’s first cousin.

The bus dropped us off at Lylah’s Marsh, a Howard county park on the Wapsie-Great Western Trail and the starting point for the annual Elma Roundhouse Days 5K event. The small-town celebration serves as a fun summertime Wilberding reunion for my wife’s family. And despite not being a runner, I’ve done the 5K about eight times (generally walking three-quarters of it).

Me, wife Deb Grover, daughter Emily Bainter

I can’t recall starting the event or anything along the route, even though I took pictures along the way.

A selfie taken at 8:10 am, about twenty minutes before my Widowmaker.

That July 12th morning, I finished in just under fifty minutes.

A few minutes later, a widowmaker nearly finished me.

–

We’d been having a fun getaway, arriving at Airport Lake Park on Wed night. Deb & I camped next to daughter Emily, husband Jesse, and our three grandkids. The nearby grass runway reassured us no jets would disturb our sleep.

My niece Katie Keuhn and her sons Dan and John had tickets to the Twins-Cubs game on Thurs afternoon and allowed me to tag along. I sat along the first base line a few sections from them. I watched Minnesota starting pitcher Chris Paddock get hammered alongside 33,000 other fans, half of them rooting for Chicago. The Twins lost 8-1; former I-Cub Pete Crow-Armstrong hit two dingers. It’s always great to see Des Moines veterans do well in the big leagues.

Toasting my health at Target Field, little knowing it would be my last beer for awhile.

Thursday night we joined Katie’s parents (Pat & Chris Praska) for grilled pork chops and garden fresh veggies. Their fairly large and well-tended garden could make an Amish farmer envious. Delish!

On Friday we shared Kwik Star pizza with Katie and her boys on their farm, a mile north of the Lawler ethanol plant. We stopped at The Treasure Chest in New Hampton on the way home for some junking, where I found two old JFK plates for $3 total.

A peaceful Friday night at Airport Lake county park, New Hampton

Spent Friday night attempting to fish the nine acre campground lake with my grandsons Isaac and Owen as Deb kayaked. Went to bed at a reasonable hour.

Then came Saturday…

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Deb finished the 5K about ten minutes before me (she cheats by training); Emily was a minute ahead. According to them, after finishing the race we stood trailside and complained about the suffocating humidity. As we began walking toward the Legion hall breakfast I collapsed, landing on my left cheekbone in the grass.

TIM-ber!!!

First responders were nearby. Someone rolled me on my side and checked for a pulse. One of the first responders called Allison Zweibohmer to come ASAP.

Allison Zweibohmer was my angel.

She’s a Mayo Clinic ER Cardiac nurse who also teaches CPR. She was not a medical volunteer or a runner that morning.

Her high school daughter had finished the run and they were headed toward her car when I collapsed. She grabbed her defibrillator kit from her car, directed the local EMTs in CPR, and resurrected my heart with one AED jolt. A nearby ambulance–preparing for Elma’s noon parade–arrived promptly.

The ambulance transported me to the Cresco hospital. Calls were made to two services in LaCrosse for an air ambulance; they declined due to poor visibility arising from Canadian wildfires. Luckily skies were clearer in Minnesota and a Mayo helicopter flew to Cresco.

I learned later I had suffered a widowmaker heart attack–the one that kills eighty percent of its victims.

At Mayo, a catheter was inserted into my femoral artery. A stent was run up the catheter to where my left coronary artery was blocking blood flow on the front of my heart. Stents look like much smaller springs from cheap pens but designed with mesh-like chicken wire. When the stent is run up the catheter and placed where it’s needed, it expands and allows blood to flow freely. The catheter is then removed.

My artery was 90% blocked.

–

On June 8th, a Life Flight chopper had flown over us as we camped near Pleasant Hill. I said a quick prayer as I always do.

The next day I learned it carried my friend Craig Buma, who had fallen off a ladder and never regained consciousness. His family made the sobering decision to discontinue life support.

I never dreamed I’d soon be taking that kind of trip.

Who ever does?

–

I awoke in Mayo surrounded by Deb and my three kids, daughter in law Lauren, and granddaughter Amelia.

Because my heart attack happened out “in the field” and I was not in the Mayo system, I was christened “Unidentified Maroon Outlander” (I’m invoking my poetic license) Sounds like I’m an alien!

Maroon Outlander! I’ve been called worse…

After I was extubated and could visit my family, they said I was like Dory in “Finding Nemo,” repeatedly asking the same questions. Apparently this is normal when emerging from sedation. I began to imagine how my Dad felt in his final months last year after his stroke. Both of us were in some pain, foggy headed, and grateful for extended life.

Son Matt, his wife Lauren and ten-month old Amelia wondering “WTH is going on, Bompa?”

Daughters Emily Bainter and Abby Grover visiting me at Mayo

I thanked everyone who helped me, wondering if the beautiful Syrian doctor or the humble Sudanese aide delivering my food feared deportment.

And I wondered how any aging taxpayer could be short-sighted enough to vote against funding county emergency services. Yes, I’m talking about you, Buchanan County Iowa. You’ve gotten less empathetic since I moved away fifty years ago.

Mayo released me on Wed, July 16th. And like the old Chicago song, “I’m Feeling Stronger Every Day.”

–

Some crazy connections with Allison Zweibohmer:

1. Glenn & Marie Wilberding (my parents-in-law) farmed directly across the road from Joe & Donna Zweibohmer.

2. Allison married their son, Tim.

3. Allison attended Riceville HS with my nephew, Stacey Wilberding.

4. Allison’s daughter and Stacey’s two daughters play on the same softball team.

5. Stacey now lives on the Wilberding farmstead across from Joe & Donna Z.

You can’t make this stuff up.

—

Two weeks later, I’m recovering very well.

NOT in a bar fight!

I’m sixty years too late to audition for this ad. But old enough to remember it!

My black left eye looks like the result of a drunken rumble during east side night at the State Fair. My orbital bone was fractured when I fell, but looks worse than it feels.

Three ribs on each side were cracked during CPR, which means the EMT did exactly what they were supposed to do. My lower chest only hurts when I sneeze or cough, and then for only a few seconds. Hugging myself by crossing my arms tightly across my chest before the sneeze/cough helps prevent the pain.

–

I ponder the hundred ways that morning that things could have turned out differently. Here are a few:

–I was driving Deb and Emily in our pickup that morning, twenty miles from New Hampton to Elma.

–What if all the helicopters had been grounded?

–What if the widowmaker happened earlier in the route between two gravel roads?

-Etc etc etc…

I haven’t been obsessing on this stuff, but still…

–

I can’t begin to meaningfully thank everyone who helped me; here’s a weak attempt. Thanks to:

-My eternally beautiful wife of 44 years, Deb. Sorry you have to mow in this swampy heat.

-My kids: Emily, Abby, and Matt. Seeing you bedside when I woke up in Mayo means the world.

-My grandkids, Isaac, Owen, Vera, and Amelia. Thanks for moral support, comic relief, and loving hugs. My in-laws Jesse & Lauren too!

-Thanks to all the prayers from everyone: Oakwood UMC, family, friends, and the great unknown folks who pray for whirring Life Flights and wailing rescue vehicles. You restore my faith in negative times, and that’s how we build a better world.

-The Mayo medical staff is AMAZING. I hope you’ll never need their services. If you do, they are WORLD CLASS.

-Thank you to the anonymous EMTs, volunteer firemen, and everyone else who make sacrifices to train for situations they hope they’ll never experience. Bless you all and may you be protected.

-Finally…Allison Zweibohmer. God put you right where I needed you to be that morning. Thanks for visiting me at Mayo; through my foggy brain I can remember visiting with you briefly and sensing your apprehension in how I might be doing. I look forward to seeing you again and giving you a well-deserved hug.

My angel, Allison Zweibohmer

My heart has always been filled with gratitude and appreciation, even more so now. Apparently God found room to jam a little more of those qualities into it.

And thankfully Mayo found room for a stent.