If you follow my mom’s page, you’ve probably heard my dad had a serious heart attack the day after Christmas. Obviously, we’ve all been worried, and anxious to understand what comes next. I’m happy to report that he’s home, and beginning what could be a long road back. On the other hand, tough as he is, it’s hard to say. Wouldn’t surprise me if he was rolling bocce balls in a week or so. I sure hope so. Thanks in advance for your thoughts and prayers. The Rowe’s are much obliged.
Peggy Rowe Facebook Post ·
The year our baby had major surgery I did not panic. I even remained calm when our six-year-old fell on a broken bottle and gashed his wrist deeply. And when our seventeen-year-old was thrown from the back of a garbage truck, broke his nose and his finger, and had stitches in his face, I didn’t pass out.
But late Christmas night when my husband awoke sweating profusely and with agonizing pain in his chest and arms, I found myself screaming into the phone—then feeling terror when the EMT shouted, “Stay with me, John! Stay with me!”
Four days later, I realize our good fortune. Especially since 50% of all heart attack victims do not make it to the hospital alive. Thanks to the medical professionals—especially the “interventionalist” who performed a heart catheterization and inserted three stents into arteries with as much as a 95-98% blockage.
And thanks to our kids for their support—now…and along the road to recovery. It’s nice to know they still like us.
