My post last Sunday shocked some readers who thought I’d had a near-death experience, an unexpected encounter with the Grim Reaper.
Not true.
The Grim Reaper was not by my bedside. Something scarier was: an undercover evangelical zealot. More on that later.
A cardioversion (an electrical zap to the heart) had been scheduled as a corrective measure for my a-fib. Atrial fibrillation (irregular contractions of the heart) isn’t life threatening. But it does increase the risk of a stroke. It can’t be cured, but it can be managed.
My condition was detected through an EKG during a routine physical a year ago. Since then I’ve been on a blood thinner to reduce the chances of clotting.
If a-fib persists (and it usually does), a cardioversion can jolt the heart back into rhythm. With sedation it’s painless, virtually risk free, and can be repeated as often as needed.
The next step up in management is a cardiac ablation, which deactivates certain cells that are misfiring. Ablation may be in my future.
So my first cardioversion wasn’t life threatening after all. Still, I’d like to thank all of you who sent notes of congratulations (and sighs of relief) on my survival. I didn’t realize so many people cared about me.
I also didn’t realize that an undercover evangelical zealot was caring for me.
I usually ask my attendants where they went to school. One attendant told me he graduated from Liberty University in Lynchburg, Virginia.
Was that founded by Jerry Falwell?
Yes.
What was your major?
Christian apologetics.
And what is that? (I knew, but I asked anyway.)
I defend the Christian faith.
Against whom?
Skeptics and scoffers.
And what about the faith do you defend?
I have arguments that prove the Bible is the inerrant Word of God, that Jesus was born of a virgin, that he is the only begotten son of God, that he rose bodily from the dead, and that he’s coming back someday to cast unbelievers into hell.
I was about to tell him that I was writing a book titled Putting the Bible in Its Place that counters each of his arguments, but I noticed he was standing by a high-voltage machine connected to my body, so I politely said: Good luck with all that.
For everything there is a season
a time to speak
and a time to bite your tongue.