A Father's Message

When I get the call for a heart my wife Lynnette or Dad will blog updates and share insights. But for now, I asked my Dad to recall his memory of my first heart surgery and contribute to my blog. I should note that although Dad is a professional journalist for the last three decades this is a personal message. In his career he's been fortunate to interview great men and women.

The top photo is with my three older sisters at Dad's broadcasting studio. The bottom photo is in the Garden of Gethsemane with former LDS church President Spencer W. Kimball at Jerusalem in 1977.

If you want to be inspired by a classic documentary watch one of the first features my Dad did in the late 70s early 80s called The Marathon. Thirty years later he still has people commenting that his story motivated them to get in shape and run. I posted it at http://youtube.com/livingforeden

Dad is one of my best friends. I'm blessed to have him when so many don't have that in their lives. And I'm thankful he would take the time to share his memory.

Dear Paul,

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about your remarkable, even miraculous life, especially since your 36th birthday a few weeks ago. Well do I remember that spring day in 1973 when mom went into labor and we rushed to the hospital for your birth. The late night delivery at LDS Hospital, which I was able to observe, was routine, and I was thrilled to have a son, after having three daughters come into our home.

Our lives changed dramatically a few hours later, though, when I was awakened from a deep sleep at home by mom calling to let me know “there is a problem with the baby.” I made arrangements for your sisters and rushed to Primary Children’s Hospital, where you had been taken as a so-called “blue baby.” I met you, and a team of medical personnel led by Dr. George Veasy, coming off an elevator and en route to a medical procedure to determine your malady. Fortunately, I was able to get them to allow me a few minutes alone with you. Your Grandpa Layton and I were directed to a nearby closet where we found some privacy in order to give you, in accordance to our beliefs, a priesthood blessing. Then you were off.

It didn’t take Dr. Veasy long to learn that you had a severe congenital heart defect and that immediate surgery would be needed to keep you alive. You were rushed into surgery before you were a day old for what we were told was a shunt that would allow you to get enough oxygenated blood for your malformed heart to keep you alive.

It worked, and here you are 36 years later. It’s quite remarkable, really, when you consider that you weren’t expected to survive a year, let alone through childhood and beyond into puberty. Yet, you constantly defied the odds. And yes, here you are - a very productive, successful adult who has had a significant impact on countless people throughout the world. Moreover, you’re a loving husband and doting father.

I’ve thought about this in the context of the many CHD parents who follow your blog. Somehow, I hope they can find hope in your story, realizing, of course, that medical science is far more advanced than it was when you were born. Indeed, CHD, though serious, doesn’t always mean doom and gloom. There is always hope. Our hope was that you could be kept alive long enough for advances in medicine that would allow you to overcome your next crisis. It seemed such advances always came. And now we await the next step in your miraculous life. We still have great hope . . . as well as an abiding faith that all will be well. Surely, the miracle will continue.

Love you! Dad