Before I offer some concluding comments, I must confess:
I have been pretty resistant to the whole blog/social media idea, so please
forgive me for not being more involved with it.
I hate attention and dramatics and typically avoid those things as much
as I can. At the same time, though, a
lot of concerned people have asked for updates, and these have been the most effective
means of sharing those. Thank you for
sticking around throughout this story, and thank you to those who have updated you
all on my journey. This will hopefully
be the closing chapter of this blog and the beginning of some new adventures
for me.
In a world where division is one of the most notable
features, the past two months have been a powerful witness to me of how people
can come together despite differing personal beliefs. The world is full of amazing people. I am so grateful for the prayers and positive
thoughts that have come from so many people from all over the world and all
kinds of backgrounds (I guess that’s one good thing about social media). People were asked to pray, prayers were sent
to the heavens, thoughts were sent to the universe, and wonderful things
happened. There have been more blessings
than I can count and I will be forever grateful. I’ve experienced support from people I work
with now, people I’ve worked with in the past, friends from school (all the way
down to kindergarten), and people in my neighborhood. There has been outreach and supplication from
nuns. Agnostics. People in Malta, Russia, France, Kazakhstan, Italy…there
are too many places to name, and too many people to thank. It’s inadequate, but thank you, thank you,
thank you.
Those who have read the blog know how desperately I
wanted to avoid surgery. After having
had 3 of them already, I knew what to expect.
The absolute worst part of the process for me is always the time post-surgery
when I still have the breathing tube in—the “intubation.” I get strapped to the bed and a breathing tube
is down my throat and I am awake, but completely powerless. The only way I can really describe it is hell. Nonetheless, with the worst behind me, I know I have been blessed. Without wanting to sound dramatic, a doctor
told me after surgery that a person doesn’t get closer to dying than I was. I know prayers were answered, and interestingly,
this time it was through the means I specifically hoped against at the beginning
of the process. Comfort was given and
health has been restored.
Some have asked what I learned during this process. In addition to experiencing the miracles of
prayer firsthand, I’ve had some serious time to reflect on my life and improvements
I can make. One of the biggest? My lack of patience. I’ve known for a long time that I am an impatient
person in a big way. Ask anyone in my
house or that I work with. Sometimes I
think it can be a strength, but there are lots of times I simply need to
“chill” more and let things happen. I
need to remember some of those lessons that Oogway taught Shifu in Kung Fu
Panda (sorry…I had to reference one of my favorite movies) and practice letting
go of “the illusion of control.” I will
also benefit from adjusting my expectations.
I still haven’t forgotten the wisdom I learned in Calvin and Hobbes when
Calvin taught that having some low expectations can add to happiness.
Not in a bad way; I know that sometimes my
expectations of myself and others are too high, and it has led to disappointment. However, that frustration is all based on my
own subjective expectations, and that can thankfully be changed. Lastly, if I don’t go out of my way to keep it
“in check”, I generally tend to be a pessimistic person. The wonderful thing is that through this
process, my view has been altered. While
the doctors and medical staff repaired my heart physically, the prayers and
kindness that have been shown on my behalf have repaired my heart
emotionally.
This is a special time of year for many people. Thank you again for your kindness, your
humanity, your goodness, and your faith. There is an inexplicable joy we can feel when
we treat each other with respect and kindness.
It’s a special connection. My
hope for myself and others is that we can keep this going, regardless of the
time of year or what the circumstances.
I’ve always loved being in small towns where people drive by and lift
their index finger off the steering wheel in greeting. I’ve come to appreciate this kind gesture as
the “happy one-finger wave,” and I’ve never understood (or liked) the angry one-finger
wave that seems to happen more in busy, crowded places.
I offer the happy one-finger wave to all of you.
Thor
P. S. A special
thanks to my family. My parents, my
children, all of my siblings, my wife’s family, and especially my wife. We “celebrated” our 24th wedding
anniversary in the hospital, and my wife Leah stayed at the hospital every
night I was there (we are talking 7 weeks!).
She made tremendous sacrifices to be there to support me and put up with
my cranky attitude. Among missing many
other things, she sacrificed her opportunity to campaign for city council, only
losing by about 200 votes against incumbents because she missed out on prime
campaigning time. Leah, I wish I was
more like you.
Leah here, reporting from Room 206 of the Thoracic Intensive Care Unit. Just wanted to give a quick shoutout to Thor's loving sister, Traci Higbee, for updating you guys on the daily about her brother via Facebook.
Before I begin, however, on behalf of Tony and my family,
📸: Traci Higbee
Video chatting together with Elder Hansen the day before Tony's surgery
we want to thank you all from the bottom of our hearts for your prayers and fasts, visits, for your messages and texts of kindness, encouragement, concern, love and well-wishes, for feeding our family, for checking in with us, and for your incredible patience with us, and for your support and desire to be of any help to us. I can honestly tell you we have felt overwhelmed and humbled by your love and support through this whole ordeal. We are very aware that you all have lives of your own and that you have your own challenges that you are facing, so the fact that you have taken time out of YOUR lives, YOUR busy schedules, and time away from doing the things you would normally do to take time to pray, fast and care for Tony and my family just blows us away. Words will never adequately express our deep and profound love and gratitude for you. We love you, and we will be forever grateful for you. We pray for you during your storms and we rejoice with you in your successes. Thank you all for everything.
This Thanksgiving, we have MUCH to be grateful for, so I will just post it that way. In the beautiful Thanksgiving song/hymn, Simple Praise, I thought I'd post according to the lyrics in the song. If you ever get a chance to listen to this beautiful song, I hope you get to listen to it while you scroll down.
FOR A CANVAS OF COLORS
The view from his room on the day of surgery
FOR A CONCERT OF SOUND
Heading to surgery!
FOR THE UNFOLDING SEASONS
After having complications with his lungs after his surgery
THE EARTH SPINNING ROUND
FOR THE BIRTH OF EACH SUNRISE
The view from my home during the time he was home
FOR THE SKIES SET ABLAZE
FOR THESE SIMPLE GIFTS
Dr. John Doty, Cardiothoracic Surgeon who performed Tony's surgery (Photo source: intermountainhealthcare.org)
Dr. Mark Goddard, Cardiovascular and Pulmonary Intensive Care, who has been attending to Tony while he has been in Thoracic ICU (Photo source: intermountainhealthcare.org)
It finally happened...Dad had his fourth open-heart surgery today.
He went into the operating room at 9 o'clock this morning and 12 hours later, it was finished. Prayers and hopes were heard and that wonderful, blessed man lived. He made it! He was on the table for the fourth time and his heart is still pumping! Even Dr. Dory acknowledged how miraculous this was. Apparently the tissue around the aorta was so weak, if they had waited even one more day, the pseudo aneurysm would have burst and started bleeding into his right atrium. They also didn't find any active infection, and while that means we can't ID the bacteria, it also means that whole month on antibiotics and hanging out in the hospital was worth it. However, Dr. Doty did mention that his lungs looked "angry" because they had been overcompensating for so long. We were happy and hoped to see him tonight, but were soon informed that his lungs were worn out from all the extra work they'd done and that they're saturated with a bunch of extra liquid from the operation. They were working so poorly that they actually had to reopen his chest to hook him up to a heart and lung machine. His heart is pumping and repaired and working well, but his lungs just aren't getting enough oxygen to him, so they're using this machine to oxygenate his blood and give him a break. As soon as they got that all set up, his oxygen levels shot up and his blood pressure stabilized. Dr. Doty wants him on the machine for 48-72 hours to let the lungs recover. In the meantime, he's unconscious in the ICU and his chest is opened but covered. Lots of tubes. Kind of crazy.
Getting to see him tonight was humbling...as we left last night he said he would see us tonight, but touching him and talking to him tonight without having his outreach in response was a little sad, even though he's stable and being looked over by very competent staff. Mostly though, we are so so grateful for the absolute miracles accomplished by modern medicine, for the doctors and nurses working so diligently for him, and especially for all of you. For the fasting and the prayers and the outreach and the hugs and the good company and for every every kind action we have been the recipient of. We love you! We pray that like us, your burdens are a little less heavy today than they were yesterday. We are excited and hopeful for what's to come with Tony and trust the hands of the doctors and the Lord that are keeping him well. We'll keep you updated ☺️
Hey guys, Leah reporting to you at 3:21 AM from Room 409 of the Intermountain Medical Center in Murray. Yep, we’re back again. Tony came in on Monday morning to get his weekly CT scan done per doctor's orders. Even though we've enjoyed having him home, we know he isn't well. He sleeps a lot, he's winded when he walks up the stairs, his energy level is really low, and on Sunday at one point, his heart rate was at 39 BPM. I was concerned at how low it was, until he opened up a can of Pepsi and drank it and not long after that, his heart rate was up in the 70s again. He also got moving, took a shower, and his heart rate was much improved afterwards.
Getting dressed for CT scan
Anyway, Monday morning, we came to get a CT scan, learned that Tony's creatinine levels were high, which would indicate impaired kidney function, so before he even did his CT scan, he was given IV fluids for an hour prior to his CT scan, in addition to IV fluids given to him for another hour afterwards.
On IV fluids before and after CT scan
Not long after the CT scan, Dr. Doty came and told us that the pseudo aneurysm (or hole) had gotten bigger and that they were going to need to do something soon, so Tony was admitted. It looks like they'll work on putting in a "plug" to stop the growth of the pseudo aneurysm, and if that doesn't work, then they'll be doing open-heart surgery this week.
Cardiologists performed another test on him - a transesophageal echocardiogram, where they learned that he didn't just have one hole, but several, and so something is most definitely going to need to be done.
Post-TEE test
So here we are back in our "old room" (what were the odds of that happening?!), awaiting procedures to be done this week, and wow, this has thrown us for a loop. I seriously had hoped that the doc would've said, "you're clear for another week", you can go home now, but here we are with "you're staying here, we'll do a procedure on you, possibly open-heart surgery".
Getting an EKG done so they can see what's going on with his heart
Nurses came in around 2:30 AM this morning because they noticed that something was going on with his heart rhythm and they didn't appear overly concerned, but it has been enough to keep me awake this time. It was not something scary to them, but it was enough to jolt me out of my sleep. And now that I've been awake, I hear running going back and forth outside in the hall of the hospital floor, and I wonder if they're going to come into Tony's room, so I think it'll be a while before I sleep.
It's easy for me to be on edge right now, probs because I'm tired, and I'm worried and I want to make sure everything is okay. But in my time of being awake and praying and writing this post and thinking on things, a thought keeps running through my mind: "Endure it well."
In the 1828 Webster's Dictionary (check it out online here), endure is defined as:
"ENDU'RE, verb transitive [Latin durus, duro.] 1. To last; to continue in the same state without perishing; to remain; to abide. The Lord shall endure forever. Psalms 9:7. He shall hold it [his house] fast, but it shall not endure Job 8:15. 2. To bear; to brook; to suffer without resistance, or without yielding. How can I endure to see the evil that shall come to my people? Esther 8:6. Can thy heart endure or thy hands be strong? Ezekiel 22:14. ENDU'RE, verb transitive To bear; to sustain; to support without breaking or yielding to force or pressure. Metals endure a certain degree of heat without melting. Both were of shining steel, and wrought so pure. As might the strokes of two such arms endure 1. To bear with patience; to bear without opposition or sinking under the pressure. Therefore, I endure all things for the elect's sake. 2 Timothy 2:3. If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons. Hebrews 12:7. 2. To undergo; to sustain. I wish to die, yet dare not death endure 3. To continue in. [Not used.]"
While I was waiting for Tony's IV fluids to be finished, I overheard a conversation between a doctor and another family, where they were being told that a woman (I'm assuming it was their mother) had ovarian cancer, and he was explaining the procedure that was going to take place to remove tumors. Endure. I met a cleaning lady who'd moved here from Somalia only 4 years ago and has been working to make ends meet while trying with her husband to have a family. Endure. I met a Thai nurse whose father was murdered when she was 15, so she quit school to go and work to support her family, then moved here to Utah after she got married, and in 2005 became a US citizen, then worked on her GED, attended a local college to get her Associates in Nursing, and in 2014 graduated with honors from the University of Utah with a Bachelors degree in Nursing. Endure. Endure is one thing. Enduring it WELL, well, that's the stuff great stories are made of, right? Grateful for those of you who inspire me and the rest of us by your experiences of endurance. I hope you know that we're acutely aware that we're not the only ones in the world who are facing challenges at this time and who are enduring. Our prayers for you are that whatever you're all facing at this time that you'll be blessed with strength, wisdom and courage to not only endure your challenges and storms, but to endure them well. We're working to do the same as well. Glad to be in the same boat with you. :) We're grateful for you, we love you, and we continue to pray for you all. May peace continue to be with you as you endure your trials well. With love and gratitude all the days for you, Leah
Thorvald here, finally reporting from the comfort of my
home. They released me on Tuesday, and what
a joy it is to be back! I sleep better
on the sofa here than I ever slept at the hospital. There is indeed something special about home,
and it thankfully, it’s a whole lot more than the comfort of a sofa.
in case you needed a visual of dad sleeping on the couch, don't worry--we got you
Over the last couple of weeks and even to the present day,
I have gotten so many encouraging messages. I have no words to describe how much joy and
strength these give to me. Every time
Leah reads me a message of how someone is praying for me or thinking good
thoughts for me or doing anything to be supportive, I get quite emotional. There are family members, neighbors,
co-workers, friends, and sometimes even strangers who offer well-wishes and prayers. To each of you who have done so, please
accept my eternal gratitude. Someday I
hope to be able to thank each of you individually for the strength you have
provided for me during this time.
So, yes. I am now
home and determined to enjoy it while I can since we don’t know how long it
will last. I went into the hospital
with some out-of-control fevers and they quickly diagnosed me with endocarditis. However, despite being there 22 days, the
nature of the infection was never determined.
We also learned through CT scans that the infection was doing some damage
to my heart; in fact, it created a pseudoaneurysm inside the aorta. After getting that explained to us, my understanding is that there was kind of a thin spot (like a weak spot
on a balloon) on the wall of my heart and that this has grown and grown. Sometimes they refer to it as a hole, but the
blood doesn’t actually go anywhere. It
just collects in there. It’s worrisome because
it’s getting bigger, and if it continues to grow it could burst…which isn’t the
outcome I’m looking for, in case any of you are wondering.
dad being in the hospital was actually a big cover up for him starring in dr. pepper commercials // coming home from the hospital !!!
Even though I’m here at home, there’s a lot of work to be done. I’m taking all sorts of pills and IV antibiotics every day through
a PICC line, and Monday I go in for another big test: another CT scan. I’ve been told that if the results of that CT
scan look worse than the last one, I’ll need to stay at the hospital. I don’t know exactly what would happen then,
but I do know that at least two of the options they have in mind are surgery
(to repair the pseudoaneurysm, remove the infection and also possibly replace
my mechanical valves) or using a plug to repair the pseudoaneurysm as they
mentioned more recently.
dad's favorite nurse. please note dad's super healthy danish cookies he ate as a snack
And thus, the waiting game continues. It’s a weird feeling to experience—to have so
much ambiguity and so many unknowns, yet also to feel so at
peace with whatever happens. I truly
believe I have a purpose, that I still have work to do. Wholeheartedly, I feel at peace with this
process and again thank each of you for your prayers and kind thoughts. It helps.
This is Leah, reporting to you from Rm 409 of the Intermountain Medical Center in Murray, Utah. Here's what happened over the course of the week with Tony:
Monday:
No change - the infection is there, and they still don't know what it is. Tony's fevers still weren't coming down, somewhere in the low 100s, and he was still feeling miserable. He was probably having fevers and chills maybe 2-3 times a day, and it wasn't pleasant. He was getting food here at the hospital, but often he would pass the food by, because he wasn't hungry. Didn't have much of an appetite. He also had a CT scan, and still no change. Still, he found time to have a sense of humor. 😁
We got to spend time together as a family with him that evening. We walked around the hospital floor for an activity and enjoyed some lovely sugar-free treats, courtesy of the hospital vending machine.
Also, I would go down to the first floor to see my children off as they'd leave to go back home, and this hallway always scared me, especially when I was alone. It's scary being alone on the ENTIRE first floor and waiting for the elevator by myself *shudder*
Tuesday:
Was a hard day. Went for a walk around the hospital floor,
then Tony came back and took a shower, and after putting on clothes, he started shivering uncontrollably. Dr. Doty calls it Rigors. To me, it was scary to watch him have these chills that he couldn't seem to control; his lips would turn blue, and he'd have these violent shivers that wouldn't stop, even with numerous warmed blankets on him to warm him up.
It took him 45 minutes to get back to normal temps. We spoke with the Infectious Disease (ID) team (in the latter part of the afternoon into the evening) as well, and visiting with them was just as painful: despite all the blood tests they had done on him, they still don't know what the infection is, and they shared our concerns for this whole rock-and-hard-place situation, and they also seemed to be in a place of hopelessness (maybe it was reality, I wouldn't have known. Either one at that time felt the same) as they couldn't provide any solutions for us. After our conversation with some members of the ID team, I remember seeing Tony sitting at the mobile table, with his head in his hands, and he looked beat. Reminded me of those looks I see on my children's faces when they've lost game after game after game. I felt so sorry for him. Maybe he was just tired, because it had already been a fever/chills day and it was taxing on him, and he HATES it when he gets those chills. He still had his head in his hands when someone knocked on our door. I opened it, and let the guest in. I don't think Tony had expected to see him, but when he turned to see who the guest was, he just broke down, stood up and gave him a hug and held on to him for a bit. It was a welcome sight to see Chad Wilkinson.
We got to have our very own private time with him - just the three of us, and man, it was just what we needed. One of the MANY important reminders that I took away from our visit with him was that we shouldn't take counsel from our fears. What timely counsel! Our time with him was sacred and special, and we will remember it with fondness and gratitude forever. Thank you, sir. We love you so much.
Wednesday:
Tony was still getting fevers, but this time, he began to tell when he was starting to get chills so he would focus on warm thoughts when he began to feel cold. Mind you, it wasn't cold in his room, but he still felt chills. One time when I saw that he was working through the chills, I played for him what I thought was "warm" music. I don't know if it helped, but he didn't appear to experience the full effects of chills, so I'd like to think it had something to do with it. Or maybe it was the medication. 😉
He began to be more aware of his fevers and chills, paying attention to the "triggers", and he worked hard to avoid the triggers that'd put him there. It was a better day. We even went for walks around the hospital floor a couple of times, and it was good.
Thursday:
Fevers are beginning to come down. Hasn't had chills, but he has slept A LOT! A lot a lot! Wonder if he's beginning to finally sleep after all those weeks of fevers and chills and sweats. He seems to be doing better. Sooo grateful!
Friday:
We found out that Tony has what is called Culture-Negative Endocarditis, where there's an infection in his heart, but all the blood culture tests that they've done on him have come up negative, due to the fact that he is currently on antibiotics. It appears that members of the ID team have done blood culture tests to see if anything will show up, but so far, nothing, hence the broad spectrum of antibiotics that he is currently taking at this time.
who is currently serving in the Italy Rome Mission, and who is currently serving on the island of Malta:
"I've been praying and studying and I even included it in my fast on Sunday, and I've come to the conclusion that it'd be best for me to remain in the mission rather than come home early or come home and go back out. My heart wants to come home more than anything, but if I say I have faith I feel like I need to show that. Right now, I feel like the best way for me to show my faith in God is by staying here and working my hardest.
"And on that same note, I know there're a lot of people out there suffering more than I am. When I think about it, we've all actually got it pretty good right now. We've got knowledge of the plan of salvation. We know families are eternal. Beyond that, we have the greatest faith that everything is going to work out fine and dad will be okay. And I love that! But there are people out there who don't know that, and that's what I'm here for. So I'm going to work even harder at sharing the joy and peace we have in the hopes that somehow, God will help some more people through us. But if none of that works out, well I'm staying here anyways because that's what faith means. Just know I love you guys and pray for you on the daily -- and many other people are doing the same.
"All the love for all the days!❤️❤️❤️"
We weren't surprised or saddened by his letter, but respect very much his desire to stay out until his mission is done, and are happy for him and for us.
Tony and I had a date night...on his hospital bed. We watched the first 5 minutes of the second season of Stranger Things on Netflix and he fell asleep.
It was too scary for me to watch by myself in the dark, so I turned on the lights and let him sleep. I'm so glad to see that he's getting some reprieve from his fevers and chills, and I imagine that he has been so tired from fighting for so long.
Saturday:
There's still no change with Tony's infection, but it appears that the antibiotics are working for him! He is currently on 4 different antibiotics, and he LOATHES one more than any of the others: Rifampin. It makes his sweat, tears and other bodily excretions look orange, and, to him, it smells, reeks even, of vomit. Woof. Buuuut, he's feeling better. We met with another ID team member who listened to all of our concerns and she took the time not only to listen to any and every concern that we had, but to explain that being on all 4 of these antibiotics can't be good for his organs, and one of the concerns for them at this time has been the effects of the antibiotics on his kidneys. So now the question is, if Tony is doing better and can't have all 4 antibiotics because it'll do some damage to his organs, which of these antibiotics will they drop? They want to maximize containing the infection while minimizing damage. We'll see what happens. But whatever the case, we are just so grateful that Thor is finally getting some relief from being as sick as he has been. It would make sense that he is tired all the time now because his body has been fighting/in survivor mode for nearly a month, so now that he's finally not dealing with fevers and chills, we're just so grateful that he's actually sleeping these days.
At present, Tony still has a bit of a temperature, but he hasn't been having steady 103/104 degree temps and chills in a couple of days; he actually broke 100 degrees sometime over the weekend, and it is looking like things are s-l-o-w-l-y getting back to normal. His appetite is coming back, although he says that things taste differently to him. We've heard that being on antibiotics has a way of messing with the taste buds, so for now, that's something we'll happily deal with. Tony is still not out of the woods yet by any means. We have a LOOOONG way to go. We know that something needs to be done about the infection in his heart, but we are hoping to find a non-surgical solution, so we are begging, pretty please, if you haven't yet felt worn out by our pleas to you, would you be okay, regardless of your beliefs or background, joining us in praying to/communing with whatever Power you believe in on Tony's behalf, in finding a non-surgical solution to this matter, please? We know we are already indebted to all of you. We could not even BEGIN to tell you how indebted we are to you for your prayers, texts and messages of concern and encouragement, phone calls, visits, treats, fasts, love and support for our family. We pray for YOU, because we are sooooo grateful for you. Thank you for your help in accomplishing the first miracle we'd asked for: His fever to break. It has been going down and we are TRULY grateful. Thank you thank you thank you all.
Through the weeks that we have been here, we have also gotten the opportunity to meet with and listen to stories of a few of the people who work here in the hospital, like the newly-wed nurse or the the nurse/mother of six who is trying to make ends meet in their homes, or the phlebotomist from Croatia who moved here as a refugee years ago to escape the war that was going on in her country, to the twenty-something-year-old nurse's aide who moved here from Thailand who lost his father to a disease when he was 7 and who is now the main provider for his family, to the cleaning lady from Peru whose daughter passed away in the very cardiac unit we are in. It provided great perspective for us, as it helped take us out of seeing only ourselves. It also reminded us to be grateful, even in our situation. It has been a humbling experience to meet them, to hear their stories and to know that there is always someone who has it harder, who has it worse than we do and yet still manages to serve and do it with a smile. How grateful we are for perspective provided by the least of these. We desire to be such a people for others as well.
We want you to know we love you, and we are grateful for you. We are grateful for all that you do for us. We pray for you. How could we not? Thank you for blessing our lives. May peace be yours in your journey at this time as well. We love you. Thank you for everything.
