Heart Smart

My husband was an unlikely candidate for a heart attack. His health records showed low cholesterol, low blood pressure, and he was an easygoing soul. Despite these very good signs, one winter day, while walking to the 14th hole on a golf course, Ken fell to his knees and clutched his chest.

Fast action by his golf partners saved Ken's life. As soon as it happened, one of the men with Ken spied a twosome in a cart a few holes away. He sprinted faster than he'd ever dreamed possible and literally hijacked the cart. He sent the driver on to the clubhouse to call an ambulance and, driving at top speed, brought the cart back to Ken. Ironically, Ken and his golf partners had chosen to walk the course for the exercise.

At the hospital, a new clot-busting drug stabilized Ken enough so that he could be airlifted to a larger city, where angioplasty and a stent afforded him a second chance. "You're mighty lucky," the cardiologist told him later. Putting his thumb and index finger together until they were nearly touching, he added, "You came this close to not making it."

The doctor prescribed 12 weeks of cardiac rehab. At our first meeting, Marty, the director of the rehab unit, related stories of people who came to her because they truly wanted a heart-healthy lifestyle. But she also told us about the sadly large number of people who attended for the prescribed number of weeks, and then soon after slid back into their bad habits, warming chairs and sofas instead of moving their arms and legs whenever possible. Over and over again in our interview, she emphasized the notion of "exercise for life."

Now, my husband is an intelligent, sensible man, but he's also a stubborn German by heritage. I knew that he would do exactly what he wanted to with his rehab, and I feared that he might rebel like a teenager.

That first day, Ken listened intently as Marty talked about a new way of eating. No more high-fat desserts after every meal. No more big steaks when we ate out. Fruits and vegetables should occupy more than half the dinner plate. Marty urged us to follow a diet of low-fat and low-cholesterol foods. And we learned that portion control ranked high in this new way to live.

Over the next 12 weeks, Ken did his brisk daily walks, worked out on the exercise machines three days a week, and adhered to the diet I regulated at home. His energy level surpassed his best pre-heart attack days, and the pounds slipped away. He became a fountain of heart knowledge, spouting tidbits of information he picked up from Marty. Among them was: "Eat a handful of nuts ever day, not a can full."

There was another reason that Ken decided to follow the program. He often thought of his father.

Ken's father suffered a heart attack and died at age 63, only three weeks before his planned retirement. Ken's dad missed the joy and freedom of retirement years. He missed watching his grandchildren grow up. He missed more time with his wife. Ken had a choice to make. Did he want to risk losing all the things his dad lost? Or did he want to stay around in this world for many more years? He made the best choice.

Ken completed his 12-week course more than three years ago, but continues to exercise daily and follows a heart-healthy diet. He hasn't gained back any of the 42 pounds he shed. He feels great. And that winter's day on the golf course now seems a long way away.

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