Norman's miracle man Eldon Nance gets another chance at Thanksgiving

Please forgive Eldon Nance if he bypasses his traditional turkey duties Thursday morning. His life was on the line -- literally -- the last time he stuffed a bird and pushed it in the oven.

"I still don't know what happened to my turkey," said the 76-year-old former insurance man.

He can joke now, but he had more on his plate than a wasted turkey a year ago this week. His heart failed him and he collapsed in the kitchen, hit his head on a cabinet but somehow made it to a chair and called out to Maria, his wife of 56 years.

An ambulance was summoned. He was in full arrest when the crews arrived. They "paddled" him a dozen times and took him to Norman Regional. Tests and more tests with little response. The prognosis was not good.

Family members, already heading to Norman for a Thanksgiving Day dinner at Eldon and Maria's daughter Janis Rasnic's home, were notified. Chaplains and doctors began talking in grim terms.

"It's usually not good news when the phone rings at 7:45 in the morning," said another daughter, Stephanie Fullerton, of Tulsa.

She started praying, even before getting to the hospital. Another daughter, Susan Buchanan, of Norman, joined the prayers. In intensive care, Eldon's body was cooled, then warmed slowly. Counselors and doctors talked about ventilators, MRIs showing little brain activity and about the family's wishes on "do not resuscitate" orders.

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"They (two doctors) were putting a light in his eyes and squeezing his hands, saying 'Eldon,' 'Eldon' and they saw nothing," Janis said. In a conference room, the doctors shared that Eldon was unresponsive and likely wouldn't make it.

"At that point, we started our grieving," Janis said.

Grandchildren Lindsey, Kailey, Meredith, Ryan, Reid, Blake, Bryce, Clay and Carter joined with their parents and Maria in prayer. They still needed some time with him. Eldon's mother, Hazel, was brought up from her nursing home room for a final goodbye.

"I don't know what she said or did but she squeezed his hand and he squeezed hers back and somehow moved his head toward her," Stephanie said.

The neurologist re-checked him and could find no explanation. Grief turned to hope, albeit tempered by what quality of life lay ahead.

"When they took him off the ventilator, we were all scared," said Janis. A therapist checked his speech. Later, he somehow noted the television was equipped with cable and could someone please find him a hamburger.

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Nance spent 36 days in Norman Regional. He can't say enough good things about the doctors and nurses who cared for him. A brother, Troy, came from Alaska to help his recovery. Prayers came from family and friends throughout the community. Daughters kept a journal. He treasures a welcome home card signed by all nine of his grandchildren.

"Family is so very, very important to me. The toughest thing for me is I can't relate to the emotional part they're talking about. I don't remember anything for at least 20 days when I was up there," Nance said. "You've got to be thankful that you are still alive and thankful you can do most things."

Admittedly, he's more tolerant, humbled and emotional these days. He's likely to give the family Thanksgiving prayer Thursday, somehow working in his standard advice now that it's always better to be seen than viewed.

"I think I try to tell our grandkids and the girls how much I love them more," says Nance, reflecting on his new demeanor.

A neurologist who couldn't explain the turnabout had his photograph taken with Eldon, his miracle patient.

"He (Dr. Matthew Ryan) said you taught me a very valuable lesson. I won't give up on anybody for at least 25 hours," Nance said. "Thank God for that."

Andy Rieger 366-3543 editor@normantranscript.com