Jeff has the heart of a lion (and a lifetime ban from the zoo)

 In hindsight, our recent visit home to Mason City, Iowa was scheduled in God's perfect timing. Not that there isn't ever a busy time of year, but I remember feeling completely overwhelmed as May and June weighed down on me...the play, Syd's wedding, end-of-school checklists, 4th of July activities...I couldn't look at my June/July calendar without shuddering. And, if that wasn't enough, days after the 4th, Brad and I were flying out to visit our family in Iowa. 

Turns out...not only WAS it enough...it was serendipitous.

Just days before our flight...we got a message and our world immediately screeched to a halt. Our beloved Jeff had had a heart attack and would soon be undergoing by-pass surgery. The flights I had booked in May put us within reach of Jeff and his wife Shelley a day before the surgery and several days following the procedure. 

When we arrived, we were, of course, no help what-so-ever...getting in the way, asking stupid questions, and just generally being a nuisance but we were so relieved...so comforted...by just seeing Jeff that Shelley graciously put up with our ineptitude.

We got to know Jeff's hospital pretty well over the course of a few days. My father-in-law really
recommended the water. "Best water in town," he gushed. "The hospital has its own 900-foot well." I was disappointed to have missed my opportunity to sample this elixir during our visit. 

Brad and I were quite comfortable during our wait-times in the lobby. Instead of a candle-light vigil, we had a whole fireplace! We didn't learn, until later, that we were also benefiting from chromotherapy as the lobby had recently undergone an update to include providing colored lights as an infrared sauna...bathing Brad and me in a meditative glow. Imagine if we'd had Chuck's magical well water on top of that! It was like we were at a spa while Jeff's surgeon was busy sweating through his scrubs, wrestling the jaws of life onto Jeff's record-breakingly-thick breast plate. 

While Jeff's medical team was shocked, discovering a vein that had wormed its way into the medieval armor that shielded his organs...I pictured a little yellow dandelion miraculously working its way through a concrete sidewalk...I was perusing the quaint little hospital gift shop. As Jeff's doctors debated their course of action pertaining to this little quirk of nature, I was consulting with the shop staff about how to get Brad Mosiman to buy me a $35 bracelet. "It says The Lord's Prayer in Morse Code," I explained to my husband who wondered when I had learned Morse Code. The surgeons eventually decided to leave the vein where it was. I would not give up on my bracelet so easily.

It was on our second visit to the hospital that I was motioned over to the reception desk. The friendly woman manning the station asked about my outfit. I can't TELL you how many times this happens to me (zero). Encouraged (bullied) not to check a bag, I had been limited in my packing to just a backpack. Well-versed in Iowa's sweltering summers, I packed light, flowy items. My daughter Sydney had gotten me started on jumpsuits and rompers and I had recently started getting a bit bolder with my color selections. "I noticed you yesterday," the woman told me, smiling. "And I see you are wearing another stylish outfit today." I glanced around for a hidden camera. She couldn't be serious. I have a colleague who had sunk my confidence with a verbal torpedo by calling this exact outfit a onesie. "Where do you shop?" she persisted.  Before you knew it, I was twirling, squatting, and kicking to demonstrate the versatility of my jumpsuit. "I can't wait to see what you wear tomorrow," she said, waving good-bye to me as I skipped out the door. My new bracelet slid down my arm as I waved back. Sure enough, the next day, she applauded as I cat-walked my way back in.

Jeff had some up-grades to his wardrobe too. I admired his nifty new yellow socks with built-in tread. Brad and I had just arrived, the day after Jeff's by-pass surgery. I was still catching my breath due to the  long journey from the parking lot. "You almost missed him," the nurse told us, "He just got back from his second walk" (a DAY after open-heart surgery). Jeff listened patiently while I complained bitterly about how far his room was from my car. "I'm so sorry that you had to go through that," he apologized, before asking, "Is that a new bracelet?" It was about time. I thought he would never notice. 

Brad and I had a lot of time to think and talk and reflect over the last week or so. I wish I was more in-tune to witnessing God's work in real time rather than be constantly marveling at it in rewind. I cannot help but feel that what we experienced was miraculous. The what-ifs are terrifying.  If Jeff had had his heart attack, away from home, at Syd's wedding, in San Diego. If he had come out, as he had intended, to New York for the 4th and had been struck then. On ANY of the plane rides (shudder). Instead, he was home...experiencing some discomfort...factoring in the Mosiman family heart history...and wisely went to the hospital. How grateful we were that our plane reservations were already set and scheduled as we would have been leaping into a vehicle for the 17-hour drive...worried and distracted the entire way. 

And now, here we are. Jeff is home and our family can breathe again. It's terrible that sometimes it takes something like this to realize how important someone is in your life and how much you love them. I could lie and try to tell you this experience didn't affect me at all...but that would be AFib.