Definitions Make a Difference

Growing up with heart problems, I have always had a special interest in the human heart. The heart is an organ that never stops working as it circulates blood throughout the body. When you think about the heart in a physical way, you will learn some amazing things. But there is another way to think about the heart. You can think about the heart in a spiritual way and learn incredible things.

I often think about how Elder David A. Bednar has defined the heart; the heart is the sum total of our thoughts, desires, feelings, and motivations. It's who we are and who we are becoming.

This definition of the heart means a lot to me. This is because a lot of what I feel,what motivates me, who I am and who I am becoming is a result of my heart. Looking at the heart with Elder Bednar's definition in mind helps me to see my heart problems as a blessing because my heart problems have taught me many lessons that I would otherwise not have learned.

One of the greatest helps I have to overcome the challenges associated with heart problems is the value positive perspectives bring to my life. I wish and hope that helpful knowledge such as Elder Bednar's definition of the heart will fill my mind and enable me to learn from the difficult situations that arise in my life.

Love Helps Forget

Waking up from open heart surgery is quite the experience. As the anesthesia wears off, the beeping of machines fills your ears. Slowly you start to regain consciousness. Then it just hurts. After some time, you open your eyes to see where you are but the anesthesia makes you pretty groggy. Pretty much all you can put together is that you are not dead, there are a bunch of people around you, and some kind of machine keeps beeping. Eventually, the anesthesia gets out of your system and you can think clearly and quickly. My favorite part during this phase is the sick feeling usually goes away and you are ready for food. Still hurting, you step by step become yourself again. Gradually the pain subsides until you get to the point of boredom and finally you get to go home!

That is pretty much what it is like to wake up from surgery. There are many other things that go on after surgery: bandages, physical therapy (I don’t like this one), tests, tests, and even more tests. What is interesting to me is not what I remember about post op, but rather, what it is that I don’t remember. I honestly don’t remember how the pain felt after any of my surgeries. Four open heart surgeries and I can’t remember how the pain felt. I do remember that I was in more pain then I had ever before been in. I can tell you that I thought, “this must be what it feels like to get hit by a train head on.”

Now, i’m sure a social worker or psychologist has a mental or physiological explanation for this lack of remembrance; and I am not saying that those answers are wrong. But I do have my own answer for why I can’t remember how the pain felt after surgery: Love. The love that Heavenly Father has for His children. I believe that a merciful part of Heavenly Father's plan for us prevents us from exactly remembering the pains of the past. We will remember that it hurt, but not what that hurt felt like. I’m so grateful for the love Heavenly Father has for me, in allowing me to forget the pain of the past without forgetting the experience.

Following a Hope

Left to right: me, my grandfather, my brother.

On a Sunday afternoon, three weeks before I was to have open heart surgery, my family and I sat around my grandfather’s dinner table. Amidst busy conversations weaving back and forth across the table my grandfather, sitting next to me, nudge my arm to get my attention. He leaned in towards me and indicated that I should hold out my hand. Confused but obedient, I stuck out my hand, curious to see what he was going to do. With a smile on his face he pulled his truck keys out of his pocket and dropped them into my hand. I clutched the keys in my hand awaiting instructions from my grandpa to go get something out of his truck, but to my surprise this is not what occurred. My grandfather leaned in and said, “here is something to look forward to after your heart surgery.”

At the time, I did not have the words to describe what this did for me as a 16 year old preparing for heart surgery. As I have ponder this experience, the way I think about overcoming challenges has changed. My grandfather acted on a hope that I would successfully come out of heart surgery. He went forward with a hope that my surgery would be successful; the fear of a negative outcome had no effect on his actions.

I learned from my grandfather that I need to conduct my life by following a hope. A hope that good things will happen and great opportunities will emerge. There will always be a chance that outcomes won’t be what I want, but if things do go the way I want, by following a hope i’ll be ready.

Learning From Perspective

Life is funny. In my case, how heart problems affect my life is funny. They have both subtly and not so subtly shaped my entire life. I have always had heart problems so I don’t know what it’s like to live without them. But, I can speak about what it is like to live with heart problems. Throughout my younger years I spent a lot of time on the sidelines because I could not physically keep up with all the other kids. This was hard for me. As I watched all my friends do what I could not, being healthy became the one thing I always wanted.

Heart problems can be dealt with in many ways. Some people do their best to hide from them. This approach will only cause internal turmoil by conditioning yourself to be afraid of your own medical problems. Others take the trials head on. From my experience, this is the best way to deal with heart problems.

A positive head on approach to heart problems is not by “learning to live with” heart problems, but rather, “having the opportunity to live with” heart problems. Medical challenges provide one a unique perspective on life that can completely change the way you view the world. They create a lens through which you can see the world from a rare perspective. This perspective for me often comes through the activities I participate in. For me, this perspective allowed me to learn a valuable lesson about what is most important to me in my life. I learned that when you can’t do all that you want to do, you will do what you know you should do.

Growing up with heart problems was a unique experience. Though I was never able to participate in all the activities I would have liked, I was able to do all the things that were important to me. Within my religion I was able to do everything that others could do. I came to see that although I couldn’t do everything I wanted to do, I was able to do everything I knew I needed to do.

The Power of Thought

The arrhythmias began the final day of my junior year in high school. Without any provocation, my heart would go from a normal 60 beats per minute (bpm) to an astounding 300 bpm. As soon as my heart rate jumped so high, my heart stayed at the fast rate. As you can imagine, at 300 bpm my energy level would quickly decrease. To bring my heart rate back to normal, I would go to the hospital where they would shock my heart and bring my rate back to normal.

That day, the last day of school my junior year, was just the beginning of the struggles I would have with arrhythmias. Over the next few years I would go in and out of arrhythmias, always ending in a hospital trip to get shocked. More than anything, getting shocked was inconvenient. Every time I went to the hospital, I knew that I would be there for at least five hours. I came to dread arrhythmias because I didn’t want to take time out of my schedule to go to the hospital.

This dread lead to hyper observance. I would monitor my rate rate several times every hour to make sure that my heart rate was where it should be. But as the weeks went on I began to go into more and more arrhythmias. Eventually, it became clear that the increased frequency of arrhythmias was my fault! My hyper observance was inadvertently causing me to go into arrhythmias. My preoccupation of arrhythmias stressed me to the point of arrhythmias.

With practice, I learned how to control my thoughts so that I my attention was not focused on my heart rate. The frequency of my arrhythmias drastically decreased and my quality of life increased, all because I changed the focus of my thoughts.

Focus on Slushies

This boy accomplished many things that day. He came out of surgery well, taught me a valuable life lesson, and of course, got his slushies. What I learned was that the most important action we can take in the face of adversity is where we choose to put our focus. In life, there are so many things that are out of our control. What we can do is deliberately choose to focus on the positive aspects of life, and by so doing, we can have the confidence to move forward just like that little boy did.

I remember a little boy who was going in for a minor operation. In contrast to the procedures he had in the past, this operation was, to him, “a piece of cake.” The operation was simple, but to most healthy people would have been concerning. This boy however, was not scared one bit. The only thing that was on his mind was the unlimited slushies he would get after the surgery. He was not ignorant as to the nature of the operation, nor was he unaware of the risks associated with surgery, rather, he knew that focusing on the stresses outside of his control would be pointless and so instead focused on the outcome that was pleasant for him.

When you are in the hospital, you can find a lot of things to be frustrated with. The medical experience for any patient seems to move excruciatingly slow. The majority of the time you spend in a hospital is spent waiting. What’s worse, because medical workers are people, mistakes happen, and that can be frustrating. People who are not accustomed to the medical realm seems to be amazed at how long or inconvenient hospital visits can be. But as I grew up in an out of a children’s hospital, I saw the power of focusing on the good.

Living is a Team Sport

I imagine my friends were quite amused seeing me arrive home from the hospital after surgery. As I came up the street where I lived, I saw many of my friends outside waiting for me. I tried to wave but only ended up wiggling my fingers. My friends came and opened the car door and I got out to talk with them. Between the painkillers the doctors had me on and my slow movements I was very entertaining to be around. Strange comments and delayed responses kept my friends laughing for hours.

While I was not feeling very well the day I came home, the fact that my friends cared enough about me to be there and stay with me meant the world. My friends were a crucial support system for me after my fourth heart surgery. They spent a lot of time with me doing anything they could to help. On good days we would watch movies, play video games, enjoy board games, or just talk. When I was having a bad day my friends would bring me a treat or write me a card. The little things they did really made the difference for me. I am forever grateful for those trying times in my life when my friends and I were able to strengthen our friendships.

Friendships are some of the sweetest associations we will ever have in our lives. The happiest families will describe themselves as friends. The closest couples say that they married their best friend. Time and time again it always comes back to friends! When it comes down to what brings us the most joy, for me I have learned it is all about friends. In tough times or easy times, friends are what make experiences worth remembering. Friends enable one to really live; after all, living is a team sport.

Live Like you are Dying

The other day I was thinking about what it was like walking into an operating room to have open heart surgery. At 10 years old while in the preoperative waiting room the nurses offered me medication to make me drowsy, but I refused. I didn’t want to be asleep because I wanted to spend the time with my family. Many patients are nervous before surgery for various reasons. They do not know what the outcome of the operation will be, or are afraid it is going to hurt. But not me. No matter what happened, I knew that everything would be okay. This assurance, as I came to discover later, was the result of living my life as if I were about to die.

Now this does not mean that I thought I was going to die. Nor does it mean that I was ready to die. Rather, because of the way that I had lived, my conscious was clear.

When people think about how they would live like they were dying, often thoughts of all the things they want to do before they die come up. Travel to Paris, swim with a dolphin, attend a Broadway show, or stay in a five star hotel. While all these things would be wonderful to do, I have come to understand that they are not the things that constitute living like you are dying.

Throughout my life I have come up with my own definition of what it means to live like you were dying. The definition is really more of a question that you can ask yourself. When you die, what is it that you would like others to say about the person you were? I want all those who know me to describe me with similar terms. Kind, loving, faithful, trustworthy, and disciplined.

Living like you are dying is not about cramming in life experience at the very end. It is about becoming the kind of person you want to be so that you leave behind the kind of legacy you want to leave. It’s about the lives you touch and the help you render. With this definition in mind, we should all be living like we are dying, because life is short.

When the World is Pushing you Down

As I learned how fragile life was, I became aware of how I could better control my life. As we learn what is in our control, we will see more clearly what is not in our control. Focusing on the things that are in our control will let us push off the worldly matters that are pushing us down and thereby enable us to succeed by doing what we can.  

I remember when I was 10 years old. Most adults would make comments that kids thought they were invincible, and they did. Kids thought they they could never die and so they would act like maniacs. That was not me, I knew that life was fragile. Going through so many medical operations changes a child’s  perception of life. Because I had been so close to losing my life, I knew that I could easily die. There were nights where I went to bed wondering if I would wake up in the morning because my perspective on life was that it is short.

It's all about perspective.

Another perspective on life develops when we feel a responsibility for our success. While it is true that we are responsible for our success, the outcomes of our life are not solely dependent upon our behavior. With all the things we need to do and many more things we should do, life can often become overwhelming. Calendars, to-do lists, and reminders help to keep us on track but still we can often feel that there is still so very much left to do. This is another perspective issues.

Because God has a perfect plan for us, all we need to do is the best we can. Once we have done everything in our power, we need to leave the rest up to him. In life, when we feel that life is pushing us down, we should remember that we are only required to do that which we can. What is out of our control is just that, out of our control.

Learning to be a Patient Patient

At 20 years old, I found myself sitting in a hospital bed waiting to have surgery the following week. Two days earlier I was doing what every normal missionary did: teaching, working, and sweating. Now, I was laying in a bed with a monitor strapped to my chest to measure every beat of my heart. Seeing my heartbeat was usually a good thing. It meant I was alive. But this time it gave me concern. This concern came not because it was beating but because of how fast it was beating, 300 beats per minute. At that rate, my energy level went down substantially.

As a missionary you are expected to live by certain rules. These rules make sense and help keep you safe and focused. They guide and direct the way you live as a missionary. On the flip side, when you are not a missionary, living all the mission rules prevents living what most consider to be “a normal life.” Since I was technically a missionary but was not doing what missionaries typically do, I found myself faced with some difficulties.

I was not allowed to watch t.v., listen to music, read non mission approved literature, or play any kind of video games. Normally this would not bother me; I kept busy with missionary life, but being confined to a bed, I found that I could only read the few books I had access to for only so long. I became incredibly bored.

The thought of having to wait like this for five days at first killed me. How was I going to make it without any entertainment? As I sat there thinking a thought came into my mind. “Patience is made.” With that thought in mind, I began looking for ways to productively entertain myself without relying on technology. I sought out people to talk with so that I might learn their stories, and I found that not only would they share their stories, but I could also share mine. Opportunities for “unusual” missionary interactions came flooding in!

In the course of mutual sharing, I learned that being patient doesn’t mean waiting without complaining; being patient means filling the time you have with productive activities. In life, patience is required of all of us, whether we are “in-patients” or “out-patients.” Learning how to be a patient patient is truly one of the most important things any of us can ever learn.

A Living Hope

While I was serving as a missionary in Washington D.C., my heart problems began to act up. Without warning my heart would abandon its calm pace of 70 beats per minute (bpm) and begin to race at 300 bpm. This unusual pace or “arrhythmia” as doctors call it, almost entirely incapacitated my ability to do normal missionary work. After my heart went into an arrhythmia, I would travel to the hospital where they would (1) admit me, (2) talk with my doctors, and (3) shock me (cardioversion) to fix my heart. Two to three hours after I was shocked the hospital would release me. This pattern happened three different times. The fourth time my heart went into an arrhythmia, this pattern broke, and the greatest missionary opportunities I had during my mission occurred while I was a patient at Children's National Medical Center.

One of these great missionary opportunities came as I found myself wandering through quiet hospital halls. Because I was a missionary, I couldn’t watch television or listen to music, so I spent a lot of time walking around the cardiac unit. As I rounded one corner, I saw a young Hispanic couple sitting on the floor crying. My eyes went from the couple into the room they were next to where I saw the cause of such sadness, a newborn fighting to live. I continued forward until I reached the couple. Without saying a word I sat down next to them. It must have been odd to have a young white guy wearing a hospital gown, who you have never before met, sit down next to you. After a few moments I looked at them and said, pointing to their child, “That used to be me, but look at me now.” These parents began to open up to me and talked with me. As I explained my story to them I began to see a hope developing in their eyes.

I am convinced that this experience was no coincidence. The opportunity I had to share my story of struggle and triumph with this family that was just embarking on a lifelong journey brought me so much joy. I couldn’t help but pray that they would be able to feel God’s love through their trials; I think they could. As I walked away from this couple, the mother shouted, “Eres mi esperanza!” Which translated into English is, “You are my hope!”

The Timing of the Lord

When I was 16 years old, I was scheduled for open heart surgery at Primary Children’s Hospital. The surgery that was to be performed was quite risky. Due to the high level of risk, I was to be the only cardiac patient having surgery that day and the only one coming into the CICU. On top of the three pediatric cardiothoracic surgeons from Primary Children’s Hospital, a fourth surgeon was coming in from another hospital. Needless to say, this was going to be a big deal. The day before the operation was to be performed we received a phone call from my cardiologist informing us that the lead surgeon no longer felt good about performing the operation and had cancelled the surgery. As I listened to my doctor my heart just sank. I began to think, “If this team of surgeons feels that my surgery is too risky to perform, will anyone else be willing to do the surgery?”

A few days after my surgery was cancelled my cardiologist called us to tell me about the new plan. He said they had referred my case to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. We were told it would most likely take a few weeks for them to get back to us and that hopefully we would be able to schedule surgery roughly six months later. The next day we were contacted by the Mayo Clinic and within two weeks we flew out the Minnesota to prepare for surgery just fourteen days after the operation at Primary Children’s Hospital was cancelled.

I never have nor will I ever believe in coincidences. This experience testified to me personally that Heavenly Father is well aware of what we need when we need it. If we trust in Him, no matter what His timing may be, everything truly will work out for our best in the end.

Peacefully Powerful

I flew into rochester Minnesota on a beautiful Friday morning. The weather was almost perfect. It was pleasantly cool and sunny outside. I would have enjoyed the climate more had I not been so preoccupied with what was to come the following week. I flew out to Minnesota to have open heart surgery at St. Mary’s hospital, the hospital associated with the world famous mayo clinic. This was not my first open heart surgery. I have had a few surgeries prior to this one, but this one was different. This time, I was old enough to understand all of the risks associated with the operation.   

While my days during surgery prep were not bad, I found the nights were a new challenge for me. My anxiety and nervous thoughts kept me up at night. After taking sleeping meds, drinking warm drinks, and listening to soothing music, I still could not fall asleep. Finally I had a thought, I thought that I needed to listen to the Book of Mormon every night until I fell asleep. When night came and it was time to sleep I began listening to the Book of Mormon. As usually happens when I read the Book of Mormon, a peace came into my life. This peace gradually began to work on me and with the accompanying warmth of my bed, I quickly fell asleep.


I have heard it said that it’s not the experience that teaches you, it is a reflection on the experience that teaches you. As I think back on this experience with listening to the Book of Mormon I am amazed at the effect the spirit had on me. Though the feelings that came as I listened to the Book of Mormon were not intense or grabbing, they subtly calmed me down. Before I knew it, sleep that was not obtainable in any other way came by the peacefully powerful effect of the spirit.

The Power of a Smile

After being in the hospital for a few days one begins to feel like an animal in the zoo. Doctors, nurses, CNA’s and other hospital staff continually file in and out of your room. They take your blood pressure, clean your floors, or get your lunch. They come in to check your food and water, go through their checklists, and make sure you’re not dead. Don’t get me wrong, they always act in a professional manner, but they always seemed rushed. I can understand that; working at a hospital can be hectic. But when I was 19 years old and having surgery in Washington D.C. I learned how powerful a quick smile can have.

This lesson came from one of my nurses. The first time I met her she approached me with a big smile on her face and told me she "got lucky and was assigned to me." Her smile conveyed to me kindness and what was more, her actions told me she was genuine. With time that smile came to mean so much to me. Not because it looked different from others, rather it conveyed an unspoken promise of kindness. Her smile was a pledge of patience, and a commitment of care.

           I learned that the power of a smile has nothing at all to do with aesthetics. Power comes from one’s character; who one truly is. A smile is simply a short, quick demonstration and reminder to others of who we really are. The full power associated with a smile comes through consistent acts of charity. The smiles that mean the most are always associated with individuals we love and respect. I learned that the power of a smile comes from a trust in another's consistency of kindness. Though our days may be busy, we always have time to show kindness to those around us.

Becoming a Big Picture Person

All of us have those experiences that change the way we view life. Often this means we gain a new perspective on a specific issue. While the perspective we acquire may not be very grand, novel or unique to the world, it is to the one who gains the new perspective. Like putting corrective lenses on one who has never before seen clearly, new perspectives, though small, change our entire world. This was one of those experiences that have forever changed my view.

When I was 10 years old, I was scheduled for an open heart surgery at Primary Children’s Hospital. The surgery that was to be performed had rarely been done on a child as young or small as me. I was nervous. As I sat one night thinking about the surgery, my mother came in and talked with me. As we spoke I noticed that she didn’t seem scared. This puzzled me, but then she taught me a lesson I will never forget. My mother then looked at me and said, “learn how to view your trials for what they really are-opportunities to become better.”

Even now, when I’m trying to see how a difficulty is an opportunity, it’s helpful for me to think of myself down the road and ask myself, “How am I better, more capable, or more helpful because I went through this?” In learning to view my trials from a different perspective, one that encourages me to become something more, I approach not only surgery, but life in general, with increased confidence and a positive mentality.