Tim (revised)

Tim Smith: Affairs of the Heart

By Tim Smith, President of Many Faces of Moebius Syndrome

I have rarely been seriously ill—maybe a cold or the flu here and there—but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine ending up in the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit at Fairfax Inova Hospital.

It was 5:00 a.m. on Saturday, May 2nd, 2010. I lay in the hospital bed, at least twenty wires attached from my feet to my chest. Three IVs ran through each arm, and a blood pressure cuff around my left arm rhythmically squeezed and pulsed every five minutes. I wasn’t sleepy, nor did I feel like watching TV, so I let my mind wander back through the events that brought me here.

The Warning Signs

In late winter, as the snow melted, I noticed my breathing was shallower than usual. Walking around the house or climbing a few stairs left me winded. I blamed the forty-plus pounds I had gained over the past two years, courtesy of too many Wawa donuts and Roy Rogers cheeseburgers.

Then came a persistent ache in my right arm, shoulder, and chest. I assumed it was muscle strain from carrying heavy extermination equipment at work. I tried switching arms, taking Tylenol-like candies to suppress the pain, but nothing helped.

By early April, when tulips and daffodils bloomed, I sought medical attention at Next Care Medical in Fredericksburg, Virginia. After a quick examination and a breathing test, the doctor assured me there were no heart or lung issues. Relieved, I went on my way, thinking I had dodged anything serious.

But April was heavy. My shoulder ached constantly, sleep was fitful, and my dreams replayed the highs and lows of my life. Even my music shifted I found myself drawn to hymns like Amazing Grace and The Old Rugged Cross, instead of my usual upbeat country and rock.

The Heart Attack

April 28th was a breaking point. My shoulder throbbed relentlessly, work had gone awry, and memories I’d rather forget flooded my mind. Overcome by frustration and pain, I burst into tears. It was then I realized something was seriously wrong.

I decided to see a doctor the next evening. Around 10:30 p.m., a sudden, searing pain spread across my right chest and shoulder. Tylenol barely helped. By Friday, a faint voice urged me to keep my appointment. Tests revealed I had suffered a heart attack within the past twenty-four hours. My blood pressure was dangerously high, and the doctors urged immediate hospitalization.

Before heading to the hospital, I insisted on a hot shower and clean clothes. If I was going to meet my maker, I wanted to be clean. With the support of my friend Sharon Deveney, I made my way to Stafford Hospital, then transferred to Fairfax Inova Hospital, a leading cardiac center where my sister-in-law worked.

Looking back, the dreams, music, and tears were my body’s warning signals. If anyone reading this experiences similar signs, please do not ignore them. Seek medical attention immediately.

The Struggle and Setbacks

My hospital journey was anything but simple. Initial treatments included stents to open blocked arteries, but complications arose. I experienced intense pain, internal bleeding, and high fevers that left me disoriented. Simple tasks—like walking, eating, or even taking my medication—became monumental struggles.

During one terrifying episode, I knew instinctively that something was gravely wrong. I called my brother, thinking it could be the last conversation I’d ever have. Minutes later, I was rushed for a CT scan, revealing the internal bleed. I received blood transfusions and intensive care, inching closer to stability each day.

Quadruple Bypass Surgery

On Wednesday, June 30th, after countless procedures, tests, and close calls, I went into surgery for a quadruple bypass. Waking up was disorienting—the tubes, the restraints, the fear—but I survived. Two nights in the ICU, recovery walks, and a disciplined regimen followed.

Each step of recovery was a small victory. Walking the perimeter of the step-down unit felt monumental after months of breathlessness. Each day, I regained a little more of my life.

Recovery and Reflection

After twenty-five days in the hospital, I finally went home on July 4th—my personal Independence Day. My heart was strong, the damage minimal, and my future promising. Recovery would continue over six weeks, and I began making the lifestyle changes necessary to ensure this would not happen again.

By mid-July, I could walk an hour without stopping—a victory that once seemed impossible. From barely being able to navigate my house without rest, I was now soaring. And I knew, with determination and care, I could fly.

Lessons Learned

This ordeal taught me to listen to my body, respect its warnings, and value every heartbeat. It reminded me of the fragility and strength of life, the importance of community, and the power of perseverance. To anyone reading this, take care of your heart, trust your instincts, and never ignore the signs your body sends.

Sometimes, it takes the darkest nights to appreciate the sunrise—and I am grateful to be witnessing mine.

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I’ve had to overcome several obstacles in my lifetime. If I can do this then so can you. I’ve learned through trial and error that it is all about believing in yourself. It’s about having faith in yourself. Faith is contagious. Once people see that you have faith in yourself and that you’re putting your best foot forward, they will have faith in you as well. Things will fall into place. Life is not always fair and bad things will continue to happen. When they do happen, we must find a way to turn lemons into lemonade. Most importantly, no matter what happens we must continue to move forward. No matter who you are, where you are, or what your circumstances in life are, you can do this. I believe in you. I have faith in you. click link. “Faith of the Heart!” https://youtu.be/TLs4MGTTXRU?si=kjVNwVx65D8xIDu2