Revolutionary surgery saved woman's life

Assistant Editor

Constance Ashe describes the past year of her life as "going through hell and back again."

"'96 was a bad year," the 70-year-old said thoughtfully during a recent interview, seated comfortably in an easy chair at her home. Just a few months ago, the same chair was a prison from which she could not rise.

But a revolutionary form of heart surgery has given Mrs. Ashe a second chance at life -- and made her a believer in miracles.

Active life

Until a year ago, Mrs. Ashe was an energetic senior citizen who, after her retirement in 1994 from more than two decades with the State Education Department, enjoyed spending summers at a campsite in Schaghticoke. Until their deaths, she cared for both her mother and her husband, Volney (who had had a stroke), at home.

A parishioner of St. Michael the Archangel Church in Troy, she swam, bowled, bicycled and visited with her 10 children, 24 grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.

The change in her began so slowly that she initially dismissed it: Out of breath after a short stroll, she began to drive her car to the swimming pool instead of walking there. Once she arrived, she spent more time simply sitting in the pool than swimming.

Six months to live

Mrs. Ashe had once enjoyed stopping for ice cream on the way to her camp, but she soon found that dairy products made her nauseous. Driving made her tired; she often pulled over to the side of the road, she said, "just to rest for a while."

When her children discovered the latter problem, they insisted she see a doctor. The diagnosis: an enlarged heart, something the cardiologist informed her could not be cured. As Mrs. Ashe left his office with her son, the doctor passed her son a note: "She has six months to live."

Mrs. Ashe's family decided not to tell her how serious her prognosis was, but she realized that her health was rapidly failing.

Turning to God

Although she considers herself "not a religious person," her fear made her turn to God.

"I never even thought of being angry," with God, she said. "I was scared, but I couldn't do anything about it. I said prayers; [my family] had so many people praying for me."

But her condition only worsened. Trying to do housework, she realized, "Oh, my God, I can't push the vacuum." She woke up several times a night and stood gasping for air. Her children were afraid to leave the grandchildren in her care.

Deterioration

"I kept it to myself, but I had an idea that something was going to happen," Mrs. Ashe remembered. She was afraid to die, but felt "lost" without being able to do her normal activities.

Within months, Mrs. Ashe could not leave the easy chair in her living room. Her children took turns staying with her, because she feared that if she went to sleep, she would not wake up.

During that time, one of Mrs. Ashe's sons, Bobby, saw a television segment on "60 Minutes" that described a new, life-saving form of heart surgery for people with enlarged hearts. Pioneered by Dr. Randas Batista of Brazil, the procedure was now being performed right here in New York, at Buffalo General Hospital. Bobby became determined that his mother would have that operation.

'No choice'

One cardiologist argued that Mrs. Ashe was a poor health risk for the surgery, called a "partial left ventriculectomy," which involves actually removing part of one ventricle of the heart. Only about 20 people in the world have had the procedure done so far.

"There's no other choice," Bobby informed the doctors. He convinced Dr. David Putman, an Albany cardiologist who worked with Mrs. Ashe, to call Drs. Tomas Salerno and James Houck, the physicians at Buffalo General who were performing the procedure, trying to get Mrs. Ashe accepted as a candidate for the surgery.

In the meantime, her health suddenly deteriorated. Her blood pressure dropped to zero; she couldn't get out of bed. She was rushed to St. Peter's Hospital in Albany, her heart pumping so weakly that her hands and feet, which weren't getting blood circulated to them, were cold as ice. In contrast, her torso was so hot that she insisted on having windows open in her room when it was freezing cold outside.

Radical surgery

Doctors tried inserting a shunt into Mrs. Ashe's chest that administered dopamine intravenously, but her need for surgery was desperate. She told God and her family, "I can't live this way."

On Nov. 4, she was admitted to Buffalo General Hospital, where physicians tried to hold off doing the surgery until she was stronger. Instead, her heartbeat dropped to eight beats per minute. On Dec. 18, as she lay half-conscious, the physicians told her, "You're going to the operating room now."

Mrs. Ashe remembered being beyond worrying about death. "I'll go to sleep and if I don't wake up, I won't know it," she told her pastor, Rev. James Mackey.

Although she has no memory of doing so, as she was wheeled into surgery, Mrs. Ashe also informed one of her daughters, "I'm coming back."

Recovery

Mrs. Ashe's heart stopped three times during the operation. She said that while she did not have a near-death experience, she woke up with the feeling that she would be all right and told her sons, "Go home, and drive careful."

As Mrs. Ashe's physical condition improved, so did her relationship with God. Through her suffering and healing, she explained, "I think I'm closer to God. He gave me a second chance. I want to let people know that this operation can be done. That's what I think I'm here for. I think the Lord has put me here for a reason."

Mrs. Ashe was thrilled that her surgery was taped for a program on Canadian television and that local news stations covered her story. It was less than a month until she left the hospital, with a defibrillator on her chest and several upcoming months of physical therapy as her only marks of her experience.

'Miracle'

"I never cried until I got in front of my house," she remembered. But when she saw all 10 of her children lined up to meet her, "Then I just cried my eyes out.

"I think it's a miracle," she said of her survival. "I never believed in them, but I really do think there's little miracles being done every day. I just can't believe I'm here."

As for the future, in addition to speaking to whoever wants to find out more about her surgery, Mrs. Ashe plans to start bowling again and spend some time at her camp.

"I'm taking one day at a time. I'm going to enjoy it," she said with a grin.

Who was Monica?

As Constance Ashe recovered her strength after her heart surgery, she became aware of a strange visitor. Every morning, a nurse named Monica would come into her room, check on her condition and leave again.

Five minutes later, a different nurse would come in, saying, "Hello, I'm your nurse for the day."

Puzzled, Mrs. Ashe asked for two days who Monica was. The nursing staff insisted that no one by that name worked in their unit. Mrs. Ashe argued that she had seen Monica each morning, even giving a description of a short, dark-haired woman with glasses.

"I didn't imagine her coming in," the patient argued. Finally, she began to believe, "She had to be my angel." (KB)

(02-27-97) [[In-content Ad]]