It would be silly to pretend it never happened, as if thumbing my nose at the indomitable human spirit, but I pulled through two medical emergencies with a strong will to live and some of the best medical care in the country, right here on Whidbey Island.

Last Dec. 25 and again this July 18, I survived pulmonary embolisms that could easily have killed me. Let’s go back a couple of weeks, to July 18. I usually work from home on Wednesdays, so I sat in my pajamas at the computer in no particular hurry. It was shortly after 7 a.m., too early to return calls, so I wrote to JUDY FISHWICK, my friend near Phoenix, and remarked, “For someone who just had a full night’s sleep, I sure feel tired.”

I normally don’t fix myself breakfast on a weekday morning, but eggs sounded good, so I put a pan on the stove. Then everything seemed to move in slow motion, except for my heart, which raced faster and faster. I took the pan off the stove and reached for the phone.

Then I realized I had not turned off the computer and I could not call out for help. Slowly, I moved down the hallway, supporting myself against the wall. Just a few feet from the computer, I began to lose consciousness. I thought, “This is where they’ll find me.”

I tried to just sink to the floor before I collapsed but didn’t make it. When my eyes popped open, I was face up on the floor next to my overturned desk chair. I turned off the computer and began to call for help.

I thought I was having a heart attack, the chest pains were almost unbearable. I’d later learn my heart pounded furiously because it could not pump blood into my left lung. A huge pulmonary embolism, which could have formed in as little as 20 minutes, blocked the ventricle.

My instincts told me to call LYNETTE REEFF, a friend, circulation manager for the Whidbey News-Times and take-charge kind of woman. She arrived and helped me out the door. Later she told me I almost collapsed on my way to her car. Seat belted, we were on our way to Whidbey General Hospital.

I was startled to catch a glimpse of my pale face and blue lips in the side view mirror. “Lynette, Idontthinkimgoingtomake it,” I slurred, as though it were one word. She shot back with, “You are NOT dying in this car.” Then I surrendered to the wind, resting my head on the car door where I took in as much cool, fresh air as I could.

Within seconds of our arrival, I was whisked to the emergency room, put on oxygen, had EKG pads stuck to my chest and legs, given a CT scan, an X-ray and given a super clot busting drug intravenously. All this was followed by four aspirin tablets, several minutes apart, and two or more tablets of nitroglycerin which I dissolved under my tongue. I was still scared but optimistic. I felt there was hope.

My good friend SUE TINGSTAD arrived in time to let Lynette return to a meeting at work. Sue has a soothing, gentle voice that never fails to calm me. She encouraged me to go to my special place and I immediately transported myself to the trail up to the falls at Sol Duc Hot Springs. I visualized being alone under a dome of trees, shafts of light piercing the darkness and the sound of rushing water growing louder. Tension began to melt away and my breathing improved.

Sue comforted me and stayed by my side until the arrival of BEVERLY BABB, one of the true veterans on the staff of the Whidbey News-Times. We have known each other for years and now share a new bond. Next I was being moved to the Critical Care Unit.

As my gurney made the sharp turn out of the emergency room, Dr. Llohman said, “It’s a good thing you are a strong woman,” to which an unseen voice added, “You might not have made it if you didn’t have such a strong heart.”

Overcome with emotion, I could not speak. I almost died and still might. “We can’t take a chance on bleeding in your stomach or brain, so we will watch your vitals closely in CCU,” a voice said. Then I buried my nose under a heated blanket for the short ride to CCU where they were waiting for me.

Personal fortitude aside, I had the wonderful help of countless nurses and aides, doctors and technicians, plus my neighbors, friends and family members over my five days in the hospital. What makes this event even more surprising is that just eight days earlier, I had stopped taking the blood thinner Coumadin, having finished a six-month protocol. Remember last Christmas? I had dozens of mini-emboli that day and was kept in the hospital for five days. All pulmonary embolisms are serious, the last one even more so.

Now hematologist Dr. Ziang will test my blood and attempt to find out why this happens to me. As my strength returned, I was anxious to return to work and see my associates.

I used to think death happened to other people, but it truly shadows us all, even the miracle workers who cure us. If there is a next time, I will be prepared to call for help. Now I want to get on with my life. I’m not ready to die.

Land to remain untouched

It hurts to see our beautiful woods fall to the bulldozer and blacktop. That’s why, when I heard about an unusual gift to the community, I was overjoyed and had to find out more.

Children have played for years on the 50 unspoiled acres, and they return with children of their own to the special place they call the Magic Meadow. It is surrounded by tall trees and only accessible on foot.

A local benefactor who shuns publicity recently donated the land to the Whidbey-Camano Land Trust in memory of his late wife Del. His act reminds us there is still time to preserve the island as it was 42 years ago, when he arrived with his family. Perhaps others will follow his example.

For your generosity and vision, the community thanks you, Dr. George T. Fairfax.

See you back here on Aug. 8. Write to lifeonwhidbey@yahoo.com.