dmitri and katrina

A STRONG AND SILENT TYPE

A Positive Story for a Negative Day

By Izzy Ess of Happiness

Dmitri was the strong and silent type.  He’d worked for fifty years at Armstrong Steel and Armour Company of Canada, ASACC. His wife, Katrina, of some fifty years, had never worked outside the tiny house in Kensington, a suburb of Toronto, eh?  They’d raised three children quite successfully.  As adults now, the children each were married and enjoyed success as educated professionals, one doctor and one teacher and one lawyer.  They and their respective families had moved out west to the municipalities of Edmonton and Calgary and West Vancouver.  Retired at 65, Dmitri liked to build good furniture and sold some to his neighbours.  His favourite to build was very heavy oak doors with stained glass windows and brass knobs and knockers.  His wife was talkative enough for two.

Dmitri and his wife enjoyed the great Canadian smooth Molson’s Beer and ate quite heartily of the Greek specialties, Souvlaki, Saganaki, Dolmades and Gyros served on Spanish Onions.  Their religion remained Greek Orthodox.  They were honoured members of the Toronto Greek Community.  Katrina was the leader of the Woman’s Auxiliary Charitable Association and would often speak at fundraisers.  Dmitri often sat beside her, silent, on the podium; he would often clap the loudest and the longest and make a show of contributing a great big ornate oaken box of Canadian shiny Loonies and Twoneys.  The boxes frequently were auctioned off for further contributions.

Christmas time in January, all the children and grandchildren gathered for a huge feast and a happy celebration of the Life of Jesus and the New Year.  Then, they went to St. Nicholas’ Greek Orthodox Church on Bloor Street East, to chant and share the great occasion with the other Greeks remaining in Toronto.  The Danforth region abounded with good restaurants enjoyed by everyone, Greek or otherwise.

One day, at the age of 76, Dmitri grasped his chest and gasped in pain, and hit the ground, unconscious.  Alarmed, Katrina called the paramedics on the 911 phone service.  She’d learned a little from the Seniors’ Centre and she struck him on the chest.  Then, she gave him mouth-to-mouth.  The EMTs arrived in just five minutes.  Dmitri was still breathing in a laboured fashion, near the kitchenette.  His blood pressure had fallen to a very low reading, but nevertheless was palpable.  They started more CPR immediately, inserting rather quickly an endotracheal tube on which they could attach a breathing bag.  They bagged him rhythmically when they established that he had a rapid rate of 300, and thus a cardiac arrest.  Several intravenous drugs were given with a breaking of the rapid rate to about 150.  One electroshock was given and the rate came down to 80 and the blood pressure had risen to almost normal levels.

Katrina was extremely frightened.  Dmitri was the only man she’d known for all her life since she was less than 20.  The paramedics paid her handsome compliments and said there was a chance that he would make it, if he made it to the hospital’s ER and had some specialist in Cardiology take over management of his condition.  The EMTs could show Katrina that the ECG was getting better.  They also complimented her quite handsomely, discussing that it was her efforts that had saved his life.

Dr. Punjab C. Patel was on the ER duty roster and he was an expert in big heart attacks and cardiac arrests.  Within two hours, Dmitri opened both his eyes and was confused but quite awake.  His vital signs had stabilized on stabilizing intravenous medications.

The family was summoned and they made aeroplane reservations for the nearest flights that were available, on WestJet, Porter and Air Canada Airline’s equipment.  By the next day, he was wide awake, pain free and sitting up.  He’d already made one trip to his small bathroom, to move his bowels.  The families and friends were overjoyed to hear of his recovery.  Within a week, he was discharged to start on programmes of cardiac rehabilitation.  The monitoring was intense and showed improvement and great stability within two days.  All the IVs were removed and all that kept him was the electrical cords that connected him to his cardiac monitor, which the family, nurses and the doctors could observe and record.  No complications were evident.  The doctors re-assured the family that he was basically quite healthy and the chances were that he would completely recover and go back to his retirement activity without restrictions.

My name is Isaac Blumenthal, MD.  I am an internist and cardiologist.  Dmitri was referred to me by Josef Popolopoulis, MD, his Family Physician.  Basically, Josef did remain the main doctor on his case, while I consulted temporarily for about a year.  Josef was quite capable of making most of the decisions.  I was the main specialist that made arrangements for, and then performed the coronary and ventricular angiography and supervised the lengthy process of the rehabilitation.  The X-rays showed a complete block of the middle of the anterior descending coronary artery; there were no aneurysmal bulges or any valvular damages.  His rhythm was always regular and his blood pressure remained normal.

Katrina always came with Dmitri to my office and continued to do all the talking, even when I directed specific questions to Dmitri.  It seemed OK for this arrangement as the loving couple were still very close and needed to be with each other.  Occasionally, one or other of the adult children came with them.  They were very knowledgeable and were not at all intrusive or manipulative.

Dmitri and Katrina came to see me every two weeks, initially and then once a month.  It was deemed that he should take a blood thinner, instead of aspirin.  The drug was Coumadin which needed to be monitored by blood tests, frequently, at first, to establish the daily dose.  His requirements were established quite easily, and monitoring was relaxed.  He needed no other medications, not even nitroglycerin for angina, because he didn’t have angina.  He was happy with my consultations and Josef Popolopoulis’ care.  If he said anything outside of what Katrina said, it was that he was “fine!”  He was a very good patient and his progress was outstanding as he did the exercises prescribed by the rehabilitation staff.  By three months he was walking briskly sans angina and his pulse and blood pressure were perfect.  The monitoring show good healing of his damaged heart and absolutely no arrhythmias.

About six months post-infarction, Dmitri and Katrina had a story to be told.  It was the first time that Dmitri talked for more than a single sentence, while Katrina urged him on to tell his tale.  He said:

“When I was lying on the floor at home, I felt extremely light and floated up above my body.  I could see Katrina and the paramedics working hard on me to get me well.  Even during the ambulance ride, I was floating over everybody and I floated up beyond the clouds where I could walk in a cool, lit up place that had the clouds beneath me and a bright blue sky above me with a light that was real pleasant, cool and comforting.  I stood alone, above the clouds quite peacefully, occasionally looking down at my supine body in the ambulance as we approached the hospital.  Then, I became aware of two dark objects in the distance, one to the right and one to the left of me.  The one dark object on the right was moving slowly toward me and I recognized my youthful self, smiling, silently approaching my left shoulder.  My youthful self was nice to see and he put his arm around my shoulder and he smiled and never said a word.

He turned us to the left to see the other dark object, far away.  We walked together, slowly floating on the clouds, my young self continuously smiling and not talking.  We approached a free standing big oak door, the kind I used to make.  The door jamb was a little splintered but the door was ornate and beautifully finished oak with a brass knob and a big brass knocker and a crescent window pane, with stained glass panels.  It was ajar.  My youthful silent self, still smiling, turned me in toward the doorway and expected me to enter with him to the other side, which looked just like the rest of what I saw, a floor of clouds and a wonderful cool comforting bright light.  Deliberately, I refused to go through the oak doorway.  My youthful self stopped smiling and he shrugged his shoulders as I went back the other way, while he disappeared beyond the door.  The next thing that happened was I found myself on an ER bed with Dr. Patel standing by the bedside talking to me, asking me if I knew where I was.  I was confused at first, but then I started focussing and realized that I was in the ER of Toronto’s St. Michael’s General Hospital.  Dr. Patel checked the reactions of my eyes to light and then he had me touch my nose repeatedly with right and left hand index fingers.  I saw Patel smile.  It was a very encouraging smile.  And then, I saw Katrina, who was crying, saying it was a miracle that I was still alive!  Gradually the ER staff came into focus and I could observe that they were busy taking care of me and setting up the cardiac monitor.  The rest, I’m sure you know about, in detail.  The floating was so pleasant that I wondered if I’d done the proper thing by not going through the door with ‘myself.’  But now, I realize that I was having a great dream while I was dead and then came back to life.  What do you think, Dr. Blumenthal?”

“Yes?” chimed in Katrina.  “What do you think, Dr. Blumenthal?”

It didn’t take much convincing since at that time these out-of-body experiences were in all the papers and the magazines.  I complimented both of them for their great insights and confirmed that what had happened was that Dmitri was essentially, temporarily quite dead and that this classic tale concerned Dmitri’s fantasies about what happens after death.  The fact that it was so pleasant and inviting means that you have made your peace with Your Savior, and I’m assuming that when you really die, the images you saw will be what you experience as Heaven.  Is that what you think, too?”

Katrina, as usual did all the talking and she said, “See Dmitri, I knew you’d have to tell your story to the doctor.  If this is written up by anyone, it will be great news, just like the other folks who die and then come back to life and tell their stories.”

For the first and last time, I saw concern in this strong and silent man.  He simply said, “Please Katrina and my dear Doctor Blumenthal.  I don’t like such attention and I don’t want the story in the newspaper.  Can’t we just keep it between us?”

I didn’t think a lot.  My answer was a definite, “Yes!” to keeping it between us and that seemed to reassure my patient, Dmitri.  Katrina tried to hide her disappointment.  “How ‘bout Dr. Popolopoulis?  Shouldn’t he be told?”

I looked at the strong and silent Dmitri and I said, “That’s totally up to you.  If you’d like, I’ll tell it to Josef in confidence and make him promise not to publicise it.”  This seemed to satisfy Dmitri but not Katrina.  For the first and last time, I saw Dmitri hold his finger up to his lips, demanding silence from his forever talkative, life-long partner.

That was thirty years ago.  I’m not breaking my promise to Dmitri because it wasn’t Dmitri, Toronto or even Canada, where this occurred.  The real Dmitri had a massive heart attack just about a year after the first and could not be resuscitated.  I’m assuming that this strong and silent man had walked with his youthful self through the open oaken door to join His Saviour and be with his family, in the Kingdom of Heaven.  From up above the clouds, I’m sure he waved good-bye to his loving wife Katrina as she undoubtedly was helping paramedics get his body to the Hospital.

I’m taking literary license for my blog because I think it is one of the most interesting stories that I’ve ever heard.  It wasn’t even Dr. Blumenthal or Dr. Josef Popolopoulis, eh?  It wasn’t even Greek…

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

9/11, 2013

A great day to tell this positive tale