New Year's; what a transitional time. Some make resolutions with the intention of never keeping it. They just make it to say they have a goal, or to fit in with their friends who all have goals. Others make lifelong, personal commitments to themselves... Let me take a step back and tell you how
my New Year's went:
Being a singer at a church, I knew that I shouldn't stay up late because we had a service on Sunday morning. So, a few minutes after midnight, I kissed my pooch & said "Happy New Year!" and scooted off to bed. They typical barrage of holiday greetings & fireworks being ignited on the streets followed. It was almost comforting to hear it all as I lay in bed. After laying down for no more than 5 minutes, I heard someone banging on the entryway door to the house that my apartment is in. My dog started barking, which doesn't normally happen, so I jumped up to calm & quiet him, thinking that perhaps one of my neighbors had lost their keys and needed to get in the house. When I opened my door to peek out into the hallway, there was a young gal, whom I had never seen before, leaning & banging on the old bevelled glass windowpanes. I opened the door and the following conversation took place, in more or less words:
Me: "Can I help you?"
Drunk Girl: "You know Daniella, right?"
M: "Know, I'm sorry, I don't. Do you need something?"
D: "I just need to sleep. I promise, I'm good."
She proceeded to poke her iPhone, which was clearly dead. Luckily, someone had tied a charger in a fancy knot around her neck--almost like a necklace--and I'm assuming as a way of saying, "Have a good night, go home now, you're very drunk sweetheart." Rather than turn her away, especially because she was so drunk that she barely made sense to me--someone who was completely sober--I took her in my house, made her a bed on my couch, and started charging her phone so that I could try and contact someone. As I was doing this, she started burping little baby burps & said, "I don't feel good." So I ran to the kitchen, grabbed a large stock pot from the kitchen and put it beside the couch, a glass of water, and asked if she wanted a hair tie. Soon after, she leaned over the side of the couch and expelled the alcohol-rich contents of her stomach into the pot; I was pretty impressed with her aim! But, she then fell off the couch, and knocked the bucket over, spilling it on the floor--luckily most of it was hardwood, but a decent portion went on my area rug. I cleaned her up, got her back on the couch, and then cleaned up the mess on the floor. In between cleaning and trying to get info out of her, I was texting some of the most recent people in her phone--mind you, I don't have an iPhone, so I was a bit lost with this gadget. Luckily, after about 15-20 minutes, someone responded (who was in Indiana), and said that a friend would be on their way to grab her soon. While waiting for them to arrive, I packed her purse, phone & charger, an apple & some wheat thins into a going away bag. As her friend was trying to get her shoes on for her, yet another wave of nausea hit, she cupped her hands by her mouth, and I flung the bucket across the floor--her friend grabbed it and put it underneath her just in time. We said our goodbyes & Happy New Year, and they were gone.
So, around 12:50 I laid down again, hoping that I could still get a decent night's sleep before the church service. That was wishful thinking.
At 5:30 in the morning, my sister called me. She relayed to me that our father had had a [mini] heart attack, and he was now at the hospital in Madison, WI. As if that wasn't startling enough, the doctors said that the blockage was so bad that he would have to have open-heart surgery this week. What sucked was that since it was a holiday (Dr.'s don't get holidays, or shouldn't!), they weren't sure when the surgeon was going to be in this week. So, my family sat in limbo until Tuesday when the surgeon finally came to consult with my dad. So, on Epiphany, as I sit in an evening service, my father was having his chest closed up. After a sextuple bypass, 7 hours of surgery, and one hell of a week of waiting, my father is finally on the road to recovery. He's currently looped up on some pain meds--who wouldn't be after having your sternum hacked open and your heart put on ice for a few hours?!--and wasn't sure if I was his sister or me on the phone :) At least he's alive.
A big reason as to why this happened is genetics. My grandfather, Wallace Edward Wegenke, passed away in his sleep when my father and his siblings were only teenagers & twenty-somethings. He had had a heart attack. My uncle "Fuzz" has recently had open-heart/bypass surgery as well, and had previously had stents put in his heart. My aunt Susie has had a bypass surgery. And now, the baby of the family, my dad, has as well. So, as you can see, even the ladies in our family have gotten a taste of this nasty disease. To top it off, my father and his brother both developed Type II Diabetes; they've had it for the past 10 years or so. Diet played a huge roll in their development of this disease; no one else has it in the family. My uncle is a bit heavier, but neither of them is "obese". My dad hasn't ever really been chubby... they own a carpentry and concrete laying business, so they're both active. But, when you wear the ol' pancreas out, it's done.
Another one is smoking. My father is a chain smoker, and has been as long as I can remember. When my sister was relaying that the nurse was hassling my dad
in the hospital as he waited for days for the surgeon to show up, saying that his smoking caused this, I got a bit pissed. True, I wasn't there to see & hear what really went on, but when a man is already down you don't kick him. After his surgery is when you sit him down and say: this is a big factor, you need to quit. My family seems to have a mentality that smoking really doesn't increase your chances of death or disease--apparently we are immortal. Not to mention, my father doesn't have health insurance... But, sad to say, I hope this is a wake-up call more than anything.
So, a combo of shitty genetics & bad lifestyle choices has led to a cruddy (yet eye-openingly inspirational) outcome. What damage has been done has been rectified as much as it can be. It's hard to think that this could be me in 20 or 30 years. Because of this, my "resolution" is to stave off heart disease & Type II Diabetes (along with some female cancers that seem to run in our family intermittently) as long as I can--if not
entirely. Yes, I know this is wishful thinking, but I can try, can't I?
Although I had said that all of the proceeds from my ride were going directly to a specific person this summer, I am now going to divide it in two: my father and the other person. They both have mounting medical bills, and it's hard to see this insurance thing hit so close to home. This year's ride is for a very good cause. Not only will the $ raised go to extremely worthy people, the exercise will keep my ticker healthy. It will also be in memory of those who are fighting or who have fought heart disease.
Here's to staving off [semi] preventable diseases. Wish me luck!
What's your New Year's Resolution? Make it count.
