Читать книгу Creating Happiness Intentionally - Sandy MacGregor - Страница 8

On the 8^th of January 1966, Dennis Ayoub had plenty of reasons to be unhappy.

Elsewhere in the world good things were happening to young men of his age – the freedom revolution of the 1960’s was well under way. Living standards were improving and young men were relaxing down at Bondi Beach or buying their first cars.

But on this day Dennis happened to have the dubious pleasure of finding himself right in the middle of the Vietnam War. On this day, for the second time, he found himself in the confined dank spaces of an enemy tunnel beneath the Ho Bo Woods in the infamous Iron Triangle, a Viet Cong stronghold. Not long after his first descent into this tunnel system Dennis had witnessed the danger of underground work. His section commander had become asphyxiated in the narrow confines of the tunnel and fainted. The deadweight body had been pushed, shoved and pulled from the tunnels. Contact with the enemy tunnel rats was possible at every moment. Above ground several Australian soldiers and some American servicemen had already died in the operation.

And yet, despite these outward circumstances, I can report from close observation, nothing ever stood in the way of Dennis Ayoub being a happy man. I can say this because I was his Troop Officer and he was my radio operator.

I’ll take up part of the story in Dennis’ own words:

After rescuing the Section Commander, Tex Cotter and I went back down the tunnel to continue the search. We found a small gallery in which there were two blue coloured US mail bags stacked against the wall. These may have contained enemy documents and we needed to recover them. However it would be too dangerous to pick them up straight away because they could be booby trapped.

I signalled to Tex to crawl back to a turn in the tunnel where we could talk. The way we communicated was for me to press my hands hard against his ears in a cone and whisper directly into his ears. I said we would go back to the mail bags, place a pulling rope, withdraw to the corner and pull.

We crawled back to the bags. We had only been away for less than a minute-and-a-half, but when we got back the bags were gone! The enemy were down there with us in the darkness and very close by! It was terrifying.

After his experience in Vietnam Dennis returned to Australia and continued serving in the army. During this period there were also factors which could have allowed him to be unhappy. Australia’s part in the Vietnam war was becoming more and more unpopular and returning servicemen did not receive the heroes’ welcome afforded to earlier generations of soldiers in other wars. In the background there was also the lingering problem faced by many Vietnam Veterans – that of post traumatic stress.

But Dennis applied himself wholeheartedly to his army life. He performed well, attended courses and gained qualifications. He achieved promotion from the ranks of Sapper (an engineer Private) all the way through to the rank of Major.

During this time he encountered another trial – that of heart disease. Prior to going to Vietnam he had not been a smoker, but when in Vietnam he started smoking the unfiltered cigarettes which were included in the American ration packs – our battalion group was attached to the American 173rd Airborne Brigade. He continued smoking heavily after the war. In 1973, at the age of 27, he experienced his first heart attack on the rugby field in Papua New Guinea. Not knowing what the pain was he left the field for 20 minutes and returned to finish the game after the pain went away! The fact that it was a heart attack was not diagnosed until 1987 when Dennis had his next heart attack and the doctor asked him to recall if he had ever experienced similar pain before.

Heart bypass surgery followed in 1987 and Dennis made a sufficient recovery to enable his return to work. Despite his return to work, Dennis was assessed eligible to receive a 100% military disability pension which would have enabled him to retire, relax and take it easy.

But this was not the option Dennis chose to pursue. In 1993, upon leaving the army, he secured a position in the Roads and Traffic Authority as the Chief Riding Instructor in the NSW Rider Training and Testing Scheme. The scheme was designed to reduce the number of fatal injuries to motor cycle riders in NSW by improving their riding skills. At that stage the death rate for all motor cyclists in NSW was over 200 per year – an alarming rate – with the highest proportion being new riders in the first few years.

Largely through Dennis’ input the death rate for motor cyclists in NSW has now dropped to about 50 per annum. This figure includes many riders, such as illegal, overseas and interstate riders, who have not been through the NSW RTA rider training scheme. The scheme has been a resounding success. Dennis can claim at least some of the responsibility for saving about 150 lives per year!

Over the years of his work with the rider training scheme I have caught up with him from time to time as we both live in the same city. I have always been aware of his basic sense of happiness which has come from his dedication to a worthwhile purpose and the happiness of the journey towards that purpose.

In late 1998 Dennis once again found himself in a position where he had every reason to be unhappy. After a week of bad angina pain he had his third heart attack – a big one which went close to taking him off. He was rushed to Sydney’s Saint Vincent’s Hospital where it was found his heart was in such a deteriorated condition that it could not be operated on again.

Even after he survived this attack he had to face new traumas. He was okay for three or four days when he suddenly started regressing – his lungs were filling with liquid. A large machine was brought to bear to force the liquid out of his lungs. Dennis reports that the effort to breathe during this process was enormous and it was painful. He says it was like being deep down under the ocean, swimming up towards the surface with his lungs bursting and knowing he had to hold his breath just a little bit longer. It was frightening.

At one low moment in this treatment he almost resolved to give up and die. One part of his mind said, “Damn it! I’ll just give this all a miss.” Another part of his mind said, “No wait! You’ve still got a chance here. Just hang on for a little while longer.”

Dennis made the choice for survival.

After he recovered a little, the hospital then inserted a device to make his heart pump, as it could not pump on its own. This device is called an ‘ELVAD’ – an Electrical Left Ventricular Assist Device – which was a small computer and a pack of batteries to make it all work properly. Dennis had to remain in hospital until he became accustomed to the idea that if the power failed he had to get to the alternative power source – being a hand pump – in just two and a half minutes or it would be curtains for him.

But none of this had harmed Dennis’ sense of happiness. When I visited him during his time in hospital he was sitting up in bed talking on his mobile phone making plans for what he would be doing when he came out of hospital.

So, after a period in hospital Dennis was sent home, complete with his ‘ELVAD’. But rather than choosing to wait passively for a donor heart to become available, Dennis set out to make new goals and achieve them.

During 1999 he decided he would participate in the ‘Annual Sun Herald City to Surf Fun Run’ from Hyde Park in Sydney City to the beach at Bondi. The distance was 14 kilometres and Dennis decided to walk the distance rather than attempting to run. Prior to the event he designed an amazing vest to carry the spare batteries and computer. It had bulky pockets on the back to carry his batteries and a pocket at the front for the computer.

Dennis set out at the rear of the pack. “Every time I heard the alarm telling me the batteries were low I would stop and change batteries. I had it down to a drill – just like changing magazines on your rifle when you really need your rifle. Your life depends on it so you just don’t make a mistake.”

Dennis finished the walk and thereby achieved a world record as the first person to complete such a run with an ELVAD installed.

He set other challenges. Attendance at the ANZAC Day Dawn Service with his Engineer Unit at Holsworthy had always been important to him. So, in 1999 he resolved not to break the tradition. Rising before 3.00am he went through the complicated procedures necessary to get to the barracks before dawn – it was a great thrill for me to meet, laugh and chat with Dennis in my old Engineer barracks. Later that day he and I marched in the Sydney ANZAC Day march with Dennis wearing the same vest he wore on the Fun Run. This time he was proudly accompanied by his daughter who wore her grandfather’s medals gained in the Seventh Division Engineers in the Second World War. His intention is to always continue this tradition – with or without a heart transplant.

Dennis was not impressed when he found out that his driver’s licence had been cancelled (because of the heart attack). Reasoning that the regulations were written before the development of modern ELVAD machines, he argued for the return of his licence. He was successful in both cases – both motor vehicle and motor cycle – thus becoming the first person to get back a motor cycle licence after such a major heart attack.

Though on medical leave from the Roads and Traffic Authority, Dennis has contributed to his passion for safer driver training. The new rules now require much more evidence about the training activities of the driver during the learning phase. Dennis has designed the Log Book all new drivers will be required to complete as part of their driver training. In his own way Dennis is still contributing to saving lives as I am sure this measure will achieve with licenced car drivers.

But the period since leaving hospital has not been without its dramas. At 5.00am one Sunday morning the worst possible thing happened. The computer and ELVAD machine malfunctioned. In the pre-dawn light Dennis was unable to connect the back-up system and so decided to use the last resort – a manual pump with which he physically pumped his heart.

Dennis recalls, “In practice at the hospital, two minutes was the maximum time I could operate the hand pump before becoming exhausted. But when the pressure of life and death was really on I was able to pump for 16 minutes until the ambulance arrived. When the ambulance officer arrived I shouted at him, ‘No heart compressions – just pump this.’

“The entrance to our home has a narrow door and stairway. I knew the ambulance officers were having difficulty getting the stretcher in so I called out, ‘If you just hold the door open, I’ll walk down by myself. You just keep pumping’. ”

By this time Dennis reports that the ambulance officer was starting to see the humour in the situation and started grinning as he walked to the ambulance pumping with the regulation timing. Dennis has a wonderful way of telling stories. He was laughing so much when he told me about this next brush with death, that I couldn’t help joining him. I have relayed this story many times to friends and laugh each time as I recall the way Dennis told it to me … perhaps for me it is also a laugh of relief.

This was a close call but nothing to deter a person who had simply decided to be happy in all circumstances.

Dennis’ day to day life is not necessarily easy, with a complicated washing routine which takes a minimum of one hour each day and includes sterilising his hands and cleaning his wound – a far different process from simply jumping out of bed and taking a quick shower in the en-suite before starting the day. “I wish I didn’t have to do it,” says Dennis, “But I do! …. so, I do!”

I find Dennis Ayoub’s attitude towards being happy a great inspiration and I admire him very much. I’m sure his happiness lies in his cheerful ability to reset goals and enjoy the journey.

Maybe we can all emulate Dennis Ayoub in some way – especially his attitude.

Post Script: Dennis now has his new heart and, as you would expect, he’s off again … and that’s another story.