I was studying for finals during my last year of school in Athens when my mom called. Dad had been complaining of fatigue and shortness of breath, so my mom, a nurse practitioner, used her stethoscope to listen to his heart. That’s when she detected a distinct murmur, one she knew he didn’t have before. 

It was his mitral valve. Doctors theorized that it had been damaged by rheumatic fever when he was a child, a complication that can develop if a case of strep throat isn’t treated properly. The mitral valve is one of four valves in the heart, which open to allow blood to flow through, then close to prevent it from flowing backward. That’s what makes the sound of a heartbeat. 

But Dad’s had weakened, and it was allowing blood to flow in the wrong direction. Repairing it would require surgery. The good news was that all tests indicated he was an ideal candidate for a relatively new type of robotic procedure with the da Vinci system, which allows doctors to perform heart surgery using robotic arms inserted through very small incisions in the side of the chest. It’s much less invasive than traditional open-heart surgery, and patients typically experience significantly less pain and quicker recovery times. 

That’s what we were hoping — and expecting — when he checked into Memorial Health in Savannah that spring morning. It was just the second time his cardiac surgeon had used the da Vinci machine. 

Unfortunately, as soon as the robotic hand touched Dad’s mitral valve, it disintegrated into pieces. It had been too fragile to repair; it would have to be replaced. Despite the unexpected change of plans, Dad’s skilled surgeon immediately went to work to insert a mechanical valve. Though the incisions in his chest had to be opened further, and the surgery permanently paralyzed his right lung, it was still less invasive than the alternative, and we were so thankful it was a success. 

Dad’s new titanium valve was designed to last a lifetime, though it would require him to take a blood-thinning medication for the rest of his life in order to prevent clots from forming. 

After a week in the hospital, he went home to continue recovering. But in the weeks that followed, mom sensed something still wasn’t right; he didn’t seem to be progressing as he should. 

Three weeks later, Dad coughed, and his heart suddenly stopped beating. He collapsed in the kitchen, where Mom called an ambulance and then frantically performed CPR until paramedics could arrive.

And again, God saved my dad. Back at the hospital, doctors found that the anticoagulant had caused blood to collect in the sac around his heart and in his lung, so they inserted a tube to drain the fluid. It required another week in the hospital, but he was finally on the road to recovery.

My dad was 57 years old then. Today, nearly 20 years later, you can still hear the clicking of his titanium valve. 

Heart disease is the leading cause of death in this country. By God’s grace, my dad is not part of that statistic — but not everyone’s loved ones are so fortunate.

February is American Heart Month. In the coming weeks, I hope you take time to familiarize yourself with the risks of heart disease and the signs of a heart attack; refresh your memory on how to perform hands-only CPR; participate in an event that brings awareness to the cause; and start taking even the smallest small steps toward living a healthier lifestyle. 

Ultimately, I hope you take care of your heart — because just like my dad, you hold an irreplaceable spot in someone else’s.