On September 7, 2023 I died.
I was suddenly on the floor with no heartbeat, no breathing.
Dead.
I had suffered a heart attack known as a sudden cardiac arrest. I was sitting across from my wife at a restaurant when I got very dizzy. I felt my neck, checking my pulse, thinking I might be in AFIB, expecting my heart to be racing. Instead, I felt nothing. I mumbled to Lynda, “My heart’s not beating,” and passed out.
Several people got up from their meals and rushed over to help. The were gathered around me and Lynda couldn’t even see what they were doing. But obviously, someone gave me CPR—I still don’t know who it was, but I am incredibly grateful.
The paramedics arrived, took me to the ambulance, and worked on me for fifteen minutes. Then we were off to the emergency room. They rushed me in, and five or six people quickly prepared me to go to the Cath Lab while (it seemed like) another ten stood and watched. Once I was in the Cath Lab, the cardiac surgeon evaluated my heart. It was beating, but the rhythm was out of control (Torsades de pointes).
The cardiologist quickly discovered that I had a 99% blockage in the LAD artery (the infamous “widow maker” blockage) and an 80% blockage in another artery. He installed a stent in the LAD, and the second stent was installed four days later. Before this, I already had stents in two arteries, (from 2010 and 2015), but they were stable.
The next day, the cardiologist told me, “Mr. Robinson, you are a very lucky man. Out of 100 people that this happens to, 93 are either dead or brain dead.” I understood what he meant. If I had been in bed sleeping or on a plane or driving a car when it happened I would have been a goner.
Amazingly, I suffered no permanent damage to my heart. This was a bit shocking, since this is not the norm.
But I don’t believe I was simply “lucky.” I tried to believe that at first, because otherwise I would have to accept that God had stepped in and spared my life for some reason. But for what reason? Was I supposed to carry out some special Godly mission?
I had no idea. So I put that thought out of my mind and just went on with life. But eventually I began to wonder if I was meant to go back to my Christian songwriting roots. Back in the 1970’s and 80’s I had served as part-time and full-time music minister at more than half-a-dozen churches, and composed 13 choir musicals.
But what was the point? I knew I could write some praise and worship music (better music that I had written before), but who would care? Who would actually use it?
My strong feeling was to go ahead with it anyway. And so, I am.
Did God spare my life so I could do this? I still can’t say for sure, but, again—I’m going ahead with it anyway.
I guess that’s faith. Or at least some form of faith.