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.

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!”