From the Other Side of the Edge…..
A “Life Changing” Miracle ….Would it have been Allowed, under Obamacare??
By Joe Facinoli

This is a true story, and a long one, but worth it. It’s one very close to home.

It was a Friday. Pay day for his loyal employees, ….and he was late.

It had been a normal, chaotic day, but now he only had about 45 minutes to make the ten mile trek, through city traffic and with two stops in between, to the last of his jobsites, where those precious paychecks were anxiously awaited.

But something felt different. Slowly at first, but clear, ….and not going away.

Of course he ignored it, like so many other daily annoyances which he had no time for.

Maybe he hadn’t eaten today? Could he remember if he had even had lunch?

Or, had he eaten too much, ….or something that didn’t agree with him?

The details of his day were not quickly recalled, but this new and creeping, aching type of pain, which was telling him more loudly now, that it was certainly NOT going to be ignored, was becoming more than just a “normal” annoyance to him.

After hastily wrapping up things at the office, at least for that moment, he had jumped into his van, tossed the pay envelopes onto the passenger seat next to him, and begun the short, two mile jaunt to the Rt. 83 Expressway, which would feed him onto the Baltimore Beltway, and then in a few miles, eventually take him into the downtown traffic mess.

It was a trip he had taken a thousand times, each time knowing exactly what to expect, and how to get around any possible issues or problems, …whatever they may be.

Today, however, he had an unexpected passenger with him.

This pain, or feeling, or whatever it was, apparently was not going to be denied, and, by the time he had made his way onto the Expressway, was now getting his full attention.

He had felt this same “discomfort” (a word, which was his own form of denial) the night before, but only for a few minutes, and it had passed quickly. He had managed a full, two hour Spanish class after that, and then more work at home, later.

Nothing to be too concerned about, he assured himself then, but if it happened again, he promised himself (mainly just for drill, and to get that inner self to shut up for a while), he would go see his doctor.

But here it was again, and not even 24 hours later, and at the most inconvenient of times.

As he entered the Beltway, his “passenger” had now moved way past annoying, and was full-blast, in his face. Grudgingly, he was conceding a trip to some doctor, somewhere, or even perhaps to a hospital, soon, but not at this moment, and only after he was finished with delivering those much needed checks.

“Not so fast, there, …high cholesterol lips”, his ‘passenger’, now fully in control, was telling him strongly, while turning up the “discomfort” level, even more.

It was right about then, when he realized that maybe he should start listening to his nuisance companion, which had all too quickly become more like the “hitch-hiker from hell”.

He decided he would take the next exit, and pulled onto the long ramp, which he knew would take him to a familiar place, and out of harm’s way, until he could figure out what to do with this unpleasant character which had come along for the ride today.

Suddenly, after that lane switch, and with a move that only a quick minute later would show this driver who really was the boss, the “hitch-hiker” disappeared for a few brief seconds.

“Aha….”, the driver said, mocking his unwanted companion, “….I knew you would go away, if I just waited long enough!”, and immediately pulled his van back into the Beltway traffic.

“Not so fast, there, ….inflated triglyceride ratio gums,” that annoying, but now oh-so-in-charge escort swiftly shot back at him, and then just as abruptly dialed up the pain, and the pressure, to a place where the driver had never been before.

That pain, now all encompassing, was best described as a combination of the worst indigestion he’d ever had, the worst full blown headache he’d ever had, and the worst full mouth toothache he had ever experienced, all at once, and all centered in his thorax, and down his left arm.

Finally paying heed to this red flag of all red flags, he quickly, and now weakly, directed his van back onto the exit ramp, followed it to the first road available, and into the closest parking lot.

He knew what was happening now, but still resisted the next step, hoping against hope, and still dutifully wanting to deliver that payroll, to his deserving workers.

Once stopped, he reluctantly punched in 911, on his Smart/Stupid phone, but couldn’t make himself push the send button, even though his right thumb was hovering over it. He was still waiting, still hanging tough, still thinking he should be a “hero”.

Somewhere, from another place, something, …he knew not what nor from where, ….entered his space, and pressed that foolish thumb down onto that life-saving phone button.

He was immediately relieved to hear those precious words, which came over his phone in about a quarter of a second: “911, what’s your emergency?”

He had never called this number before, not for himself anyway, and not for anything very urgent. So, that soothing and concerned, beautifully female voice, …was just the tonic he needed, at that crossroads moment in his long and stubborn life.

And he got even more relief, just by saying the words he had been denying, to himself, and to his unrelenting passenger: “I think I’m having a heart attack.”

It was 2:32 pm, on Friday, October 18, 2013.

That wonderful operator did her job, and the ambulance was behind his van in about 2 minutes. Really, two minutes, …tops.

The EMS guys, one, a beautiful female (though he never really saw her face) named Melissa, and an equally attractive male named Wil (never saw his face either), moved in on him like the winning “Dancing with the Stars” team, at the top of their game.

They took a million readings, asked a thousand questions, quickly and carefully loaded him into their “bus”, and, with almost no time elapsing, were moving out of that parking lot, and on the way to the nearest hospital (btw, he didn’t care which one).

He heard Missy (as she preferred) make the call to the local E.R. where they were headed, telling those on the other end that they were bringing in a “Priority One”.

He tried to make light of that, as is his wont with all things, saying: “Uh…, ‘Priority One’, that would be,… a BAD thing, yes? And One, that would be,….out of how many?”

He could hear Missy chuckle, but she was clearly not too amused, and kept moving in twelve directions at once, connecting as many wires and needles to his body that she possibly could, in the four minute ride to the E.R.

He was beginning to understand Priority One, a little better now.

It was not a good situation, according to all their readings, instruments, and magic machines, and Wil was now gassing it, through all that hated traffic.

Upon arrival, at the University of Maryland, St. Joseph’s Hospital (reportedly the best heart hospital in the state of Maryland, …lucky for him), he, sweet Missy, and handsome Wil, were greeted by what seemed to him to be about 150 worker bees, and many other very efficient medical bosses, of all kinds.

He thought of that line from the movie “M.A.S.H”, about “…the pros from Dover are here”, …and somehow, felt comforted. Donald Sutherland would have been proud.

They grabbed him up, put him on a different, crazy-modern gurney (probably costs about $50K), which he would stay on through his amazing journey of the next hour or so.

They all knew they had much work to do, to prevent the worst from happening to their newly arrived patient. “The worst”, being a nice metaphor, ...for,… well, …you know what.

At first, there was “no room at the Inn” (his humor, not theirs), and they hustled to find any operating room or space, which they could quickly make available.

They fed him a bunch of aspirin, and maybe some nitroglycerine, he couldn’t really remember, and found some other poor soul to bump out of the way, so they could proceed as rapidly as possible.

It was now 3:00 pm, exactly.

Once in an O.R., these “hundreds” of worker bees, and a couple of very fine surgeons, were as graceful as a full Bolshoi Ballet team, doing several procedures at once, all so wonderfully and artfully coordinated, all to determine the best plan of action, for their now very sick patient.

An Angioplasty was their first step, so they could determine exactly what, and where, his obvious, and very major problem was. He was not completely “out”, more like in a “twilight” state, as they continued to ask him things like: “How are you feeling”, and, “Is the pain getting worse?”

When he informed them that it was, they asked him: “How bad is it, compared to the worst you’ve ever had?” To that, he simply said two things: “Uh, …THIS would be the worst pain ever, and, …if I were you, …I’d get this thing going,… before it’s too late!”

Apparently that was the answer they needed, because within seconds they were all over him, working even harder, and finishing what was an amazingly quick, and effective, operation.

The pain was now gone, but he hadn’t yet grasped what he had been through. All he knew, was that he was ready to get out of there, and back to work.

“Where’s my cell phone?”, he asked impatiently. “And my car keys?”

The looks from his attending Miracle Workers may as well have said: “Uh, …not so fast, there, ….myocardial infarction jaws.”

Yes, he had just had a full-fledged, honest to goodness, real life Heart Attack. The kind that had killed his grandfather at the age of 48. The kind that had almost killed his father, at 49. And the kind that had nearly killed him, that very day.

He had lasted a few years beyond them, before having his, but he wasn’t going anywhere, not on that day, anyway.

It was now 3:28 pm, on that same Friday, October 18th.

He had just had an emergency heart operation, to clear out and place a Stent into, one of his two most important heart arteries, which at the time they started working on him was 100% blocked, and not functioning, …all in less than one hour from the time he placed his 911 call, and less than 30 minutes after he first entered the Operating Room.

Amazing, even by the standards of that grisled (in that they have seen it all), yet marvelous and expert, hospital staff.

But the even bigger “Miracle” was, that he suffered virtually no damage to his heart, even though no blood flowed through that artery, for quite a few minutes.

Almost impossible, the surgeons said, and only the quick, decisive action by those “beautiful” EMS folks, and those incredibly skilled O.R. people, had not only saved his life, but had saved it in a way as though almost nothing had happened to him!

His two surgeons have told him, more than once, that it was as if he had been standing ten feet in front of a cement truck, which was going 60 mph, and somehow he ducked under it, and wasn’t scratched, nor even touched.

Truly Miraculous.

They also credited his own quick action, in calling them immediately, for helping prevent a much worse outcome. He didn’t want to ruin the mood, with the real truth to that, so he kept it to himself, ….‘til now.

But he also now understood, fully and completely, that dead heroes are two things:

--they may still be heroes, but they are,…well,….dead. And he was very glad that that “something”, had pushed that send button for him.

He wanted to leave the hospital right away, he felt that much better. Practically normal. But the good sense, and discretion, of the medical folks won the day, and he stayed two more days for observation.

He was completely bored and miserable for those two long days, but in that time (during which he learned again why he almost never watches network TV, and absolutely none, during the daytime), he was able to think a little bit, about the particulars of this recent “adventure”, and of his future.

Being the “political animal” that he is, in addition to being a hard working businessman (depending on who is asked), he soon turned his thoughts to the current Healthcare debate.

And almost immediately, he shuddered while thinking:

What would happen to someone like him, once Obamacare kicks in, with the rationing of all healthcare, and the decisions of the totally non-medical “death panels”, which will hold sway, and all authority, over all operations and procedures which are to be considered, or needed, for and by anyone, including those rushed into Emergency Rooms???

He knew the answer, ….unfortunately.

Someone of his age (not quite ready to cash Social Security checks, but not a “kid”, by any stretch), with no young children, unmarried, and with no dependents (other than those terrific employees he likes so much)??

Most likely, the hospital staff, or the EMS people, or maybe even the 911 operator, her own soothing self, would just say: “Give him some aspirin, or a few cheap meds, and have him come back in a couple weeks, and we’ll check him out then (uh,…if he’s still here, …that is).”

Sad, but seems to be the truth. Even the President agrees with that scenario. Anything to make that doomed from the start, Un-Affordable (Obama)Care Act, work.

Doomed from the start.

That’s what I would have been, had this whole thing happened next year, or the year after, once my new health insurance was in full force (since my current policy, of 15 years or more, was recently canceled).

Yep, that was MY story.

All true, exactly as written (even though, believe it or not, it’s a much longer story than even the one described).

All happened within one hour, on that fateful, eye opening day.

And today, it really is as though nothing happened. If anything, I feel much, much better, and I didn’t even know that I felt bad, before it happened !

Two lessons:

Don’t be a hero.

If you have symptoms, don’t wait, not even a minute. Call someone, and go get help. And equally as important, don’t wait to do preventive things (proper diet, a lot of exercise, regular visits to the doc), so you’re never even in that situation.

Get rid of Obamacare.

I was VERY lucky. In many ways. But the biggest way, was that those hard working, spent their life training for these kinds of moments, amazingly talented medical professionals, might never have had the chance to save my life, and to give it back to me, better than ever, if this insidious, dangerous, stupid, and un-Constitutional law was in its full glory now. And if it is allowed to move forward, who knows how many good, unsuspecting people, will die because of it.

I’m no longer just an interested, well informed by-stander.

I’ve been to “The Other Side of the Edge….”, now, …for real, ….was saved from myself, and thrown back, to fight another day, and another battle.

I would only ask that President Obama, as well as Reid, Pelosi, Wasserman, Rachel Maddow, Ed Schultz, and any and all others who are holding onto this atrocity to freedom, and to proper healthcare, for all the wrong, solely political reasons, ….take my word for it, or that of anyone else who’s visited the ….“Other Side”.

And, that they don’t have to experience this same thing first hand, and be forced to think about what might have happened, under their In-glorious, “Life Changing” law.

It doesn’t, and won’t, work. And it’s not going to be pretty, if allowed to continue.

It already isn’t.

Miracles do exist. They’re called: Modern Medicine.

Trust me on that, …and let those continue.

Joe Facinoli

(Joe can be reached at: joefacinoli@gmail.com )
Intelligent Response Encouraged !!

© Copyright 2013, Joe Facinoli