Code Blue Seconds from Death

By Henry C. Austin

Just before his seventh birthday, young Henry (Hank) Austin’s brain began to bleed and, while alone, had his first seizure. No one knew what was happening to him, not even Hank, despite seizures that temporarily incapacitated him and caused an ever encroaching blindness. Wrapped in the silence of a young boy growing up in the hills of eastern Kentucky, Hank thought his relentless headaches, blind spells, and migraines were common occurrences and just something he needed to endure, which he did through his close contact with God.

As Hank grew into adulthood, so did the bleeding in his brain until one day the leaking blood vessels in the vision center of his brain burst, sending the young father into numerous code blues. He underwent an extremely painful surgery but felt no pain because Jesus took his place on the operating table. Hank counted his trials and tragedies as blessings, and miracles began happening in his life. Through it all, he maintained his sense of humor and recorded funny episodes in his chapters regarding Hillbilly Hank.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Logan Christian Publishing Company
• Release date: May 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301051427

Henry C. Austin

Henry (Hank) Austin was employed in the health care field when life-threatening issues forced him to abandon his beloved career. Currently, he writes books to educate readers regarding chronic illnesses and bring understanding about how it feels to suffer an aneurysm, stroke, epilepsy/seizure disorder, or blindness.

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Code Blue: Seconds from Death

Henry C. Austin

Edited by Janice Sue Shepherd

and Andrew P. Logan Sr.

Published by Logan Christian Publishing Company. at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Henry C. Austin

All Scripture quotations are taken from American King James Version by Michael Peter (Stone) Engelbrite. Public domain.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase another copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Into the Darkness

The View Through Glass

A Fractional Miscalculation

The Yellow Line

Hank’n Out the Trash

Lead Me On, Precious Lord

Leisure Days and College Daze

Baptized in Milk

Saturday Night Seizure and a Movie

A New Direction

As Darkness Surrounds Me

The Pork Chop

Lost in the Corn Patch

A Son is Born

The Cotton Swab Lady

Building a Church

Living a Nightmare

A Three Second Life

Code Blue

Jesus Met Me at the Prep Table

Against All Odds

Consequences of Brain Surgery

Peace Be Still

A Visit in Heaven

Lord Hear My Cry

Honed by the Master

Be Healed

Blessed Beyond Comprehension

Hope in Pain

Joe’s Pizza, May I Take Your Order

The Ninja Piano Picker

Radical Decisions

Someone with a Dream

And So It Begins

Epilogue

Editor’s Note

***

Prologue

A critic once asked me why I wanted to write my book. Why is it important? Why should my biography be published? At first, I thought I had a book about healing—a miraculous healing. And it was, for a time. I had written briefs about my experiences and posted them on Facebook for my friends to read. I received so much encouragement to share my story with others to instill hope to those facing insurmountable odds in their circumstances that I decided to sit down at my computer and create this book. In reliving my experience, I became a stronger person in spirit and developed the understanding that I am not alone. I have my family, many friends, and the love of God to help me through this journey called life.

Today, once again, my silent illness has returned: once again, I battle for eyesight and health. It took loneliness and great anguish to open my eyes and discover I could speak for thousands of children and adults afflicted with similar illnesses. Then I realized that I wanted to be a voice for all of those who suffer a silent illness; yet like me, they are unable to speak for themselves or are yet to discover they too have an unknown problem. Although I trained in many areas in the medical field, it just didn’t connect that I, indeed, faced a serious health problem. Through my series of books, I have great hope that I will open eyes and let others observe their children closely for bits and pieces of mannerisms, complaints, or events that don’t seem to fit into a so-called normal childhood life before something tragic happens that could have been avoided. The worst scenario in my case was that a long-term series of oddities began when I was a young child, and I did not understand many symptoms that I thought were simply everyday problems and part of every child’s world.

As a child I had no voice, no articulation skill, or the intellect to explain my frightening symptoms. Today, I see my situation as a blessing from God. As a child, I was often regarded as educationally challenged, lazy or simply a slow learner. I felt worthless, self-hate, and ashamed of being Henry. All the while, something was very wrong. I wish I could have understood as a young boy that my symptoms were not normal, but I simply couldn’t. I hope to make it understood that it also was no one’s fault. I had a major health problem. Today, I know it has brought me many blessings. Now God has given me the power to reach out and touch individuals like you and me; individuals who need understanding regarding their health issues. This is why I have written this book.

To my parents, who have suffered great guilt, please be assured this was never your fault. Now, I do see a bigger picture and feel chosen to express simply, yet powerfully, words of understanding for those who are healthy and cannot understand the silence of an illness. Today, with the knowledge and experience I have gained, I understand seizures and epilepsy better. At the age of six, it would have been impossible to explain the symptoms occurring inside the visual center in my head. The aneurysm's vast pressure, combined with seizures, robbed me of the intellect, vision, and the ability to articulate to you what was happening, and it made me lethargic for great periods of time. Sadly, these episodes followed me all of my life and still haunt me today.

To those who endure their silent illness, don’t give up. Sometimes no matter how many doctors you visit or try to explain the silent symptoms that invade your world, no one will ever understand unless they too walk in your shoes. And, for all of those silent and without a voice, I will speak LOUDLY for you in the greatest of hopes and understanding about the awareness of silent illnesses—Henry (Hank) Austin

***

Into the Darkness

And the light shines in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not. (John 1:5)

One of my fondest memories as a youngster was moving to Middle Creek in Floyd County, Kentucky. I was about to turn seven years old. My sister was preparing for college and my oldest brother was interested in his girlfriend. My other brothers and I were just interested in having fun and that fun always seemed to be found outside our door.

On this particular day, my mother kept my three brothers and me inside the house while some guys on bulldozers landscaped outside our home. The sound of that bulldozer’s engine drew me like a magnet to the living room window where I had the best outside view. I couldn’t take my eyes off that big piece of equipment as it scooped and pushed dirt around for our new home site. The action outside also fascinated my two brothers who were closest to me in age.

The three of us stayed glued to the window with our foreheads pressed as closely to the glass as we could get, despite the intense heat from the summer sun burning our skin. Heavy equipment and dirt are as irresistible to young boys as a squirming worm is to a catfish, as far as I’m concerned. We boys longed to be outside exploring.

For our safety, Mom kept us inside the house while the guys on the equipment kept the dirt moving. All we could do was watch wistfully from the window. Outside was a child's wonderland; the newly-moved dirt made it a boy's heaven! We just wanted to be out there, digging in that dirt pile, looking for worms, rocks, and whatever other treasures had been unearthed from their hiding places.

I guess Mom felt sorry for us, after all. When the workers were finished, she turned us loose and let us go outside to play. In any case, how can you keep boys away from dirt? Boys and dirt are a natural part of the growing up process. I remember having such a wonderful time among those clods of soil. The sun was so warm on this particular day, but the wind's breeze felt invigorating and refreshing. What a day that was and what fun we had!

To beat it all, we had a nearby creek in which to play. It was nearly perfect, and I was sure enjoying it, too. What an idyllic picture we must have made, three dirt-covered boys splashing in the creek. It seemed life was at its best. Time passed so quickly for us on that summer day. Too much sun and too much fun—we didn’t want this day to end. Before we were prepared for it, though, our day of pleasure came to a close and it was time to head homeward. Little did I know this would also be the end of my pleasant childhood and the beginning of a journey through an ever-encroaching darkness filled with excruciating pain.

When Dad came home from work that evening, it was time for my brothers and me to leave our paradise and come inside. I can still hear the sound of Mom's voice calling us in to clean up for supper. As I walked toward the house, something suddenly happened to the sunlight: it was replaced with flashing bands of colors. How strange, I thought. What would make it get dark so quickly? It had been such a wonderful sunny day, no clouds in the sky; were we now going to have a storm? Where did the lightning come from?

I didn’t have time to comment to my brothers because they were hurrying ahead of me to the house. Then, just as suddenly as it had changed to lightning, it went dark as a strange smell filled my senses and strands of silver and odd-flashing colors danced through my vision. Something was wrong! Something was very wrong!

My eyesight completely vanished as pain lacerated though my head. It felt as if someone had poured acid into my brain. Wow! Something was definitely wrong! I was scared and I was alone. My brothers were already inside the house. I thought, I'll cry out for help! I knew Mom could solve every problem a child had. Unexpectedly though, my vocal cords would not move. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t cry out. I couldn’t utter a sound.

And, that wasn’t all that happened. Suddenly, I realized I felt nothing on the right side of my body. It felt as if someone had severed the left and right side of me in two halves. In sheer terror, I clawed my right arm, trying to feel if it was there. I felt panic. My thinking processes had quit. Long minutes seemed to pass. Then, in the same order that they had progressed, the symptoms started slowly going away.

I still couldn't scream, so I did the only thing a six-year-old child could do when faced with panic and silence—I cried inside as I walked toward home and the help I would find there. Tears burned down my face as raging pain exploded through my head. Silently without my knowing, the vision center of my brain was bleeding. This was the beginning of the worst of the nightmares I would encounter throughout the next several years. This also could have been when the seizures entered my life. I did not know what a seizure was or how it felt to have one. That information came much later.

When I finally reached home, I went straight to Mom, but I was just too young to explain what had occurred. This was my first blind spell, as I now refer to them. As I tried to tell her what had happened, I found I could not adequately communicate to her about this scary event. I was far too young to comprehend how serious this was. Nor, could I explain how my body felt. I just didn’t have the articulation skills to describe this horrific experience. Now, as I look back and relive each painful moment, I still find it difficult to explain the terror I experienced that day.

Soon, the normal buoyancy of boyhood helped that horror temporarily recede. I loved my home. I had so much fun there. I cherish those childhood memories of swimming and playing in the creek with my brothers. I paid the price for my time in that creek, which was deep enough for diving. Every time I went swimming, the results ended the same way for me—swimmer’s ear. But that didn’t stop me. Swimming, without going under the water? Are you kidding? No way! I had to swim, and I had to dive. I couldn’t watch my brothers without chasing them under the water.

The circle of fun and pain continued, resulting in brutally painful ear infections. I compare the pain of my ear infections to the pain you would get from holding a hot coal in your hands. Can you imagine that pain? Here’s how it felt.

When the infection started to penetrate my ear and burrow its way through my ear drum, the agony was beyond belief! It would have been less painful to stick a hot coal in the palm of my hand and watch the skin sear and blister, than the pain I had from this ear infection. The hot coal would almost have equaled the pain I felt inside my ear. It takes hours upon hours