Surviving a Heart Attack: Hospital

It was a bit bewildering to come to in new surroundings and have to piece together how I got there - I still have no memory of the heart attack itself nor of the day leading up to it. But I woke with an amazing sense of relief as if I'd been through some fierce storm and was now completely safe, without a single responsibility in the world but to rest and recover.

Strangely, the fortnight I spent in the Homerton Hospital was one of the happiest times in my life. For the first few days out of intensive care that was partly due to medication(!) but for the duration I also felt a deep sense of wellbeing that far outweighed my physical condition.

The way people drew round and displayed their love and concern for me was incredible. I was truly touched and humbled and in turn felt so full of love myself for everyone at my bedside, who called or who sent flowers or cards (flowers aren't allowed in the hospital but Brenda got to enjoy those at home!). I have been blessed to have come into so many dear relationships in my time so far... Thank you everyone for your love and support.

Knowing you're loved increases your capacity to love and I knew it in those days. It was coming in all directions from the staff, from other patients, from friends, family, in-laws, parents, my wonderful wife and from God - although by now I have begun to rationalise my survival and recovery according to the timing and expertise of the care I received, I still haven't lost my conviction that 'God was in it'. Brenda was in it too. Angels. Definitely paramedics, surgeons, doctors and nurses. But I know that over all, even while I was unconscious, dwelling in uttermost parts of the sea, even there God's hand guided me, and his right hand held me fast (Psalm 139).

Under sedation, I wasn't able to call out for help in prayer but I thank all of my church friends from New River Church, City Gates Church and all those worldwide who did, praying in faith for a good outcome - I can hardly believe how many were mobilised through various channels! - and who continue to pray for my full recovery. One remarkable thing about their prayers was that so many seemed to have a deep conviction that I was going to pull through - strangely, this certainty was shared by Willy and Aoife when they visited me in intensive care, which was especially poignant since they aren’t believers themselves.

A friend of ours sent a message from Brazil directing us to the following Scripture from 2 Corinthians, Chapter 1:

" ⁸We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. ⁹Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. ¹⁰He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, ¹¹as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many."

Although that was about persecution for Christ's sake this incident for me was still clearly deadly perilous - at times I have felt a little like Lazarus, raised by Jesus from the dead, granted outrageous and gracious favour from God with a new lease of life, if not a clean slate. At only 34, I join the "many" in giving thanks to God for this and am reminded that there is nothing I could possibly do to repay him for it - this is extremely liberating.

And that sense of liberation, of course, points me back to the last time I was ‘reborn’, to when I accepted Jesus as my saviour and my slate was wiped clean by his sacrifice on the cross. That new lease of life is eternal - since I regained full consciousness in the cardiac ward, I have felt the assurance that, had I not pulled through, I would not have perished but would have been with Him now and forever.

But here I still am, on the mend and able to continue into my third exciting year of marriage to Brenda (and anticipating my 9th World Cup). Paul said that for him to live is Christ and to die is gain? This is maybe the closest I've got to understanding that concept and to owning it. The sense of wellbeing, knowing I'm loved, knowing I'm saved, persists beyond the walls of the Homerton Hospital and the event has made a lot of molehills out of mountains for me - like Martha, I tended to worry about many things when only one thing is needed. Now for it to remain that way...