It’s mowing the lawn. It’s going fishing. It’s life. And it’s precious, even if saying so is cliche.
Members of the Second Chance Club don’t take life for granted. Nearly 30 years ago, they were among the first in the region to undergo open heart surgery. Members of the Everett group haven’t forgotten to celebrate the years of life that pioneering surgery has given them.
Today, the Second Chance Club holds its 21st annual Heart Dance from 2 to 6 p.m. at Normanna Hall in Everett. The event benefits the Hope Heart Institute.
Heart Dance
The Second Chance Club has its Heart Dance from 2 to 6 p.m. today at Normanna Hall, 2725 Oakes Ave., Everett. The Versatones, featuring Walt and Mary De Fisser, and the Harry Lindbeck Band will play. Donation of $2 is requested, with proceeds benefiting the Hope Heart Institute. |
"It’s quite wonderful," 85-year-old Thelma Solie said of her own second chance. She was 57 when she had double bypass surgery in 1974.
In those days, heart surgery wasn’t performed in Everett. Solie was operated on at Providence Hospital in Seattle by Dr. Lester Sauvage. In 1959, Sauvage founded the Hope Heart Institute, a cardiovascular research facility, and was involved in the first successful experimental coronary artery bypass graft surgery, which today is commonplace.
Solie didn’t have a heart attack, although she suffered angina.
"I’d go to the doctor, they’d look at me — I’m tall and slender and didn’t have the usual things they thought of with people who have heart attacks," the Everett woman recalled.
After an angiogram, Seattle doctors detected severe blockage.
"I was fortunate they caught me when they did," Solie said. "I could hardly believe this was happening to me.
"I was there 11 days," she said. "I remember Dr. Sauvage saying, ‘I think you can go home tomorrow. Are you ready?’ I didn’t know if I was or not, but I discovered you can carry on."
Hospital stays for similar surgeries today are three to four days, said Dr. Jon Scheiber, an Everett Clinic cardiologist. Between 750 and 900 bypass surgeries are performed annually at Providence Everett Medical Center.
"It was a rarity in those days," said Mary Erickson, whose late husband, Forrest, had a bypass 27 years ago. "His cardiologist here in Everett said he wouldn’t touch him and sent him to Dr. Sauvage."
Erickson remembers the surgery starting at 4 a.m. and lasting until 6 that night. Her husband was hospitalized two weeks.
But once he recovered, Forrest Erickson worked as a meat cutter until the day he died at 81, nearly a decade ago. His widow is thankful for those years and remains active in the Second Chance Club. The group meets the first Thursday of each month at 3 p.m. at Evergreen Lanes in Everett and holds an annual picnic as well as the dance.
In addition to raising funds for Hope Heart Institute, the club is a social organization and a support group. Even today, heart surgery is traumatic and many patients experience depression.
"We go right through the middle of the chest," Scheiber said. "It’s a very emotional thing to have done, to have their body split open and have somebody stop their heart and work on it.
"It makes you realize you’re mortal," Scheiber said.
Herman Hagglund, 78, remembers the fear when an Everett doctor sent him to Swedish Medical Center in Seattle for triple bypass surgery 20 years ago.
"It was scary, all right. I had a heart attack and was home three weeks. Then I went in for an angiogram, and they recommended open-heart surgery. I said, ‘Can I think it over?’ My doctor said, ‘No, I’ve made the appointment,’ " the Everett man said.
"It’s typical to feel depressed. I wanted to cry, really, for about six weeks, but you get over that," said Hagglund, who retired as a Snohomish County Courthouse maintenance foreman. "It kind of gives you peace of mind afterward."
Bob Hebert, 78, has had two heart surgeries — one in 1974 and another in Everett a decade ago.
The retired pulp mill worker never had a heart attack, but said he "always felt lousy" before his first surgery. A former three-pack-a-day smoker, the Everett man is proud to say he hasn’t had a puff since 1974.
And he’s grateful for nearly 30 years of life he might have missed.
"I have a lot of confidence in these doctors," said Hebert, who stays busy mowing lawns and fishing for salmon and steelhead.
Thelma Solie likes to work in her garden. And today, there’s the dance.
"Eventually, most people make a good comeback," Scheiber said. "They return to things they hadn’t enjoyed in years."
It’s life, precious life.
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