The American Spectator : Tramp, Tramp, Tramp

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Tramp, Tramp, Tramp

By Lawrence Henry on 11.7.08 @ 6:07AM

A triple-bypass to a new life.

(Page 2 of 2)

"I expected you to sound weak," Bob said. "But your voice sounds strong."

I am indeed weak. Puffed up with fluid when I was discharged from the hospital, I pulled on sweat pants and just barely managed to squeeze my feet into shoes. A tee-shirt, a flannel shirt over the top, and a cap. Son Joe pointed out to me that I had been wearing the same clothes for two days.

Time for a sponge bath -- can't shower with the new catheter, which runs straight into my heart. That'll be my first real obstacle, dealing with the cold.

Thankfully, and surprisingly, I have come out of all this wanting to live. Maybe it's something Bob said, about how our fathers had had the same conditions we have had -- except that they had died, Bob's father at 57 and mine at 59.

"Who ever knew we were going to have to figure out what we wanted to do when we grew up?"

First, tramp, tramp, tramp.

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About the Author

Lawrence Henry writes every week from North Andover, Massachusetts.

Letter to the Editor View all comments (12) | Leave a comment

Craig| 11.7.08 @ 6:47AM

Mr. Henry, I have been following your articles for quite some time, and your spirit and resolve inspires me more and more. My thoughts and prayers go out to you. Trust in the Lord and keep the faith.

William Lannon| 11.7.08 @ 8:29AM

Dear Mr. Henry -

How you keep plugging on is beyond me. God grant me the courage to emulate you when my ordeals arrive, as I'm sure they must. You are in my prayers.

Ned| 11.7.08 @ 11:57AM

Get a dog. I walk three little Pomerainans every day. If I don't go they will annoy and hammer me until I do. Before you do though, read this:

The Power Of The Dog
by Rudyard Kipling

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie —
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find — it's your own affair —
But … you've given your heart for a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!);
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone — wherever it goes — for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart for the dog to tear.

We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long —
So why in Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

I think it is worth the risk. Good Luck and God Bless.

Jim Spoerl| 11.7.08 @ 12:21PM

Keep up the walks Lawrence. I had quadruple surgery in February ... no attack thankfully, just angina during physical exertion. I was able to play golf by April 1st. It's in the family ... my dad died at age 52.

ruth| 11.7.08 @ 2:04PM

God bless you, Mr. Henry.

Martin McPhillips| 11.7.08 @ 2:44PM

You're one tough sumnabich, Henry.

And you cut a mean paragraph.

Vern Crisler| 11.7.08 @ 2:56PM

Trust in God's goodness, Lawrence. God is not arbitrary and mean, but wants to bring good to you. Keep trusting in that, even during the bleakest moments.

Evelyn Leinbach| 11.7.08 @ 8:33PM

Lawrence, you must be tough as a boot.

Bill Croke| 11.7.08 @ 9:57PM

Larry, I don't know how you do it. Writing pieces on top of all the health problems. You're a pro and an inspiration to us all. God Bless and best to you and yours, Bill.

Anthony| 11.8.08 @ 8:42AM

Ah yes, just what I needed this morning, between Mr. Henry and Ned with the Kipling poem, having breakfast with tears in my eyes. Stay tough Mr. Henry, and Ned, you're so right.

Melvin Leigh Leppla| 11.8.08 @ 8:44AM

Dear Lawrence, as long as you look forward to tomorrow the battle is won.

Alexandra Taylor| 11.8.08 @ 10:27PM

Dear Mr Henry

Having previously disagreed, angrily, with one of your articles about John McCain, written for the Spectator and, now, having history prove how absolutely accurate you were, I should like to apologise sincerely for my rudeness and rash judgment.

May I wish you all the light and joy that life, in its gorgeous simplicity, can bring to both you and your family.

Happy Christmas!