Tag Archives: Summer in the Waiting Room

Summer in the Waiting Room: The Day That Changed My Life – Part 2 (excerpt #33)

Summer in the Waiting Room, , ,
Image by www.emporis.com Click on image to see all excerpts
Image by http://www.emporis.com
Click on image to see all excerpts

Author’s note: The following passage from Summer in the Waiting Room: How Faith, Family, and Friends Saved My Life is the second of nine parts that details June 7, 2010, the day that a massive heart attack forever changed my life.

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After doing more relaxation exercises and deep breathing techniques in the car, I shifted the transmission into drive and rushed to the office realizing that I was already late for my scheduled 11:00 AM meeting with Sylvia Gallegos, the deputy county executive. Sylvia and I had known each other for over 17 years. She was chief of staff to the councilwoman I worked for during the beginning of my career in politics.

I called the office from the car to ask the staff to inform Sylvia that I would be in the office by 11:30 AM.  It was at this meeting where I was to lay out George’s plan to allocate $2 million from the parks fund to build a soccer complex in his district for community use.  We knew there would be opposition to his proposal as the parks fund advocates wanted all of the money to be used for trails and large regional parks, uses that are rarely, if ever, used by the constituents in George’s historically underserved neighborhoods.

Sylvia, a smart and seasoned public administrator, could be an ally in reshaping the county’s practice of allocating parks resources to open spaces in affluent areas, so I needed to provide her with a compelling analysis of George’s proposal to secure her support.  I hustled into the county administration building through the entrance at 70 West Hedding Street. Suddenly I had to slow down to catch my breath, my mind believing that an anxiety attack was imminent.

In reality, my body was feeling the effects of thickening blood pushing through arteries that had been narrowing for most of my life.  I finally reached the 10th floor board of supervisors’ offices at noon. Sylvia, wearing a perfectly tailored business suit as usual, waited at the conference table in George’s office when I walked in. I apologized to her for being an hour late.

She asked if I was okay, and I responded that I wasn’t feeling very well and immediately proceeded with the business at hand.  This was unusual because casual talk about our families and personal matters always prefaced any business we had to discuss.  I don’t remember anything that happened during the next several minutes.

According to Sylvia, I appeared “distracted and unfocused.”  Noting that it was uncharacteristic for me to be unprepared for a meeting and unable to articulate, she repeated concerns about my well-being only to hear me respond that “I didn’t feel right.”  I stopped the meeting after about 10 minutes, led her out of George’s office, muttered something to our office manager Marisa Ybarra, and stumbled into my office shutting the door behind me.

Marisa, my friend of 25 years, is married to Sam Ybarra, the friend who asked me to help him coach at the parochial school more than 25 years before. I helped Marisa get a job with the previous county supervisor and she stayed on with George after he was elected.  She recounted that I had walked out of George’s office with Sylvia, mentioned to her that I had to tie my shoes, walked into my office, and closed the door – which is something I never do.

In my office, I tried to relax as the anxiety symptoms continued to persist.  The parks budget, after-school sports funding, tension with my siblings, the upcoming school board campaign, and the teachers’ union opposition to the A-G Initiative were all spinning in my mind.  As one friend later put it, “you must have been like a volcano ready to explode.”

Sitting on my office chair, I bent over to tie my shoes even though the laces weren’t loose or untied.   I leaned back in the chair with my hands folded behind my head trying to find the right breathing and relaxation exercise to release the anxiety I thought was taking over me.  Meanwhile, the clotting blood gushing through my body told a different story.

I emerged from my office and told the team I was sick and going home. Meandering through the narrow walkway that led to the 10th floor lobby and elevators, I followed my own footsteps that took me on my triumphant return to the James Lick High School graduation ceremony 360 days before.

This time the walk was different.  I didn’t race excitedly through the ground floor breezeway to the parking lot at the west end of the building as I did on June 10, 2009.  Rather, I slowly exited the elevator on the ground floor with my hands clasped behind my head trying to compose myself.  Twenty steps later, I had to stop to catch my breath.

I sat on a wooden bench under the gaze of the large Abraham Lincoln bronze bust in the east wing lobby of the county administration building, loosened my orange and blue necktie, and wiped the sweat off my brow.  Off the bench, I ambled sluggishly through the breezeway with my heavy shoulders writhing with the discomfort weighing on my upper chest and throat.  There was no doubt in my mind that I was in the full throes of an anxiety and panic attack.

I had to stop and sit once more, this time just steps from the west wing entrance to the parking lot. It seemed like an epic journey. When I got to the car, I called Sandra to tell her I was going home because I wasn’t feeling well. The drive was surreal, I felt as though nothing was happening outside of the car. When I was focused back on the road, it seemed like I was driving in slow motion as the other cars on the freeway raced by.

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To read previous excerpts click here: https://esereport.com/summer-in-the-waiting-room/

Next Wednesday: June 7, 2010 continues…

Summer in the Waiting Room: The Day That Changed My Life – Part 1 (excerpt #32)

Summer in the Waiting Room,

stock-photo-10274898-june-2010-calendar-series

Author’s note: The following passage from Summer in the Waiting Room: How Faith, Family, and Friends Saved My Life is the first of nine parts that details June 7, 2010, the day that a massive heart attack forever changed my life.

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On Monday morning, June 7th, my weekly routine got off to its usual start with countless issues racing through my mind, a churn in my stomach, and heaviness in my shoulders.  After taking Erica to school, I drove to the gym to meet Sandra and Jerry hoping a good workout would release the stress that seemed to be taking over my body.

When I got to the gym, Sandra was already there warming up on the treadmill.  I began a brisk walk, then a light jog, on the machine next to her as we talked about our respective schedules for the day.  Her day would be filled with the usual steady demands on her time as a school principal being pulled in numerous directions like a ball of Silly Putty – parents, teachers, students, and district administrators all seeking a few minutes with her.

My schedule was a typical day for a political chief of staff and school board president: staff meeting at 10:00 AM, meeting with the deputy county executive at 11:00 AM, work through lunch returning e-mails and phone calls, team meeting at 1:00 PM with George to prepare for the next day’s county board meeting, managing follow-up action items from the George meeting, and finally, presiding over the 6:00 PM graduation ceremonies at one of the district high schools I represented on the board.

Once Sandra and I were done warming up and stretching, we joined Jerry for what was sure to be an hour of vigorous strength and aerobic training.  We started off with sets of squats, lunges, and burpees, an intense aerobic workout that includes squats, push-ups, and jumping all in one motion.  At this point, sweat usually starts pouring over me and the stress and tension in my body begins to subside.

My sweat glands responded as usual, but the tension, the heavy shoulders, the churn, and pressure on my throat and upper chest only intensified.  Between exercise sets, I used the breathing techniques I learned in the anxiety classes hoping to relieve the pressure that was slowly building up in my body.

The tension in my shoulders, the upset stomach, the discomfort around my neck and throat, the difficulty catching my breath continued through sets of bench presses, legs presses, and dumbbell exercises.

Sandra and Jerry kept asking if I was okay and I responded that it was stress and my anxiety acting up, and I just needed to work through it.  Finally, while doing a set of push-ups with a medicine ball on my back, Sandra, with a worried look on her face, demanded that I stop. After a few minutes needed to regain my composure on a gym bench, I went into the locker room to shower and dress for the day.

The hot water from the steamy shower rained over my head and body. My mind raced thinking about all of the challenges before me: the county and school board budgets, the fraying relationship with one of my siblings, the coming tsunami of political rhetoric from an opponent with an axe to grind during the upcoming fall election.  The stream blanketed my body trying to soothe the pressure while the thoughts in my mind swirled. But, my anxious body responded the same way it did after my mom and Patty died seven years before, just more intensely.

After toweling off, I had to sit and catch my breath as I continued with the anxiety breathing exercises. Once I calmed down, I put on my trousers, buttoned my shirt, tied the necktie around the shirt’s collar, and sat in front of a row of metal lockers to tie my shoes.  Again, I stopped to relieve the anxiety by taking deep breaths through the nose and slowly exhaling through the mouth in a steady rhythm.

I left the locker room and wound my way through the gym floor through the lobby and out to the parking lot as the anxious feelings intensified and my mind swirled with ever-changing thoughts.  In my car, I sat trying to relax, trying to catch my breath, trying to mentally prepare for the long day ahead.  I don’t know how long I sat in the car, but I was startled by Sandra pulling into the parking space next to my car to ask if I was okay.

I mumbled that I was fine, started the car, and began driving to work.  Once I started driving, I began to feel better and remembered that I wanted to buy a tie to match the school colors of the graduation I was scheduled to preside over later in the evening.  I stopped at a Kohl’s department store and briskly walked to the men’s department while reading and returning e-mails on my Blackberry.

The churn in my stomach intensified, my shoulders grew heavier, and I had to stop to catch my breath a few times before finding the necktie section.  I quickly picked out an orange and blue striped tie that matched the school colors and the navy blue suit I wore. I dragged myself to the cashier and labored my way to the car trying to fight back the anxiety I thought was taking over my mind.

Once in my car, I again sat for a while to compose myself not knowing that the blood gurgling though my veins and arteries was thickening, clotting, and preparing for battle.

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To read previous excerpts click here: https://esereport.com/summer-in-the-waiting-room/

Next Wednesday: June 7, 2010 continues…

Summer in the Waiting Room: Chapter 4 (excerpt #31)

Summer in the Waiting Room, ,
Image by www.cdllife.com
Image by http://www.cdllife.com

The next day, Sunday, June 6th, was exactly one week since I lost my breath during the unfinished one-one one basketball game with Andres at the barbecue at Kim and Miguel’s house. As president of the school board, the week was an unusually busy one with graduation ceremonies, academic award nights, and after-school sports banquets. I wasn’t getting much sleep.

Stress and anxiety dominated my mind since waking up on Sunday morning.  The next week would be critical in George’s effort to secure parks funding and my effort to keep after-school sports intact for another year, not to mention the ongoing A-G debate. The tension from my parents’ estate intensified. I hung up on one of my brothers in anger and frustration.

On top of all that, a disgruntled former district administrator, the most viable opponent in my fall election, had aligned himself over the weekend with the teacher’s union that resisted the A-G Initiative.

My mind was swirling, my skin was warm and clammy, my upper chest and throat were uncomfortable, and my shoulders were heavy. The Peralta family gathered at a Dave & Buster’s restaurant to celebrate Andres’ birthday. With its large room of carnival and arcade games, Dave & Buster’s was a perfect place to have a kid’s party and to escape from my racing brain.

At the arcade, Pancho challenged me to a free throw contest to see who could make the most baskets in one minute.  For sure this would take my mind off of the multitude of thoughts racing through it.  When the timer started and the arcade machine released the basketballs, Pancho and I began a frantic pace to make as many free throws as possible in the short time span.  When time ran out, I emerged victorious, but had a hard time catching my breath.

The pressure in my throat was more intense and my shoulders were so heavy that I sat on a stool next to a pinball machine hunched over trying to regain composure.  When I caught my breath, I worked on the breathing and relaxation exercises I had learned to manage stress and anxiety.  I felt better the rest of the day even though the challenges that lied ahead at work, and in my political and personal life, continued to monopolize my thoughts.

I believed that the symptoms causing my discomfort were due to an impending anxiety attack and I was using the techniques to manage it. However, something entirely different was happening inside my body. The fatty and greasy meals my mom made when I was a boy transitioned into the typical American twenty-something fast-food diet.  Add a genetic pre-disposition to high cholesterol and heart disease, and the result is plaque build-up in the arteries that began at a young age.

By my early 30s, due to my parents’ pre-mature heart attacks, I began exercising regularly and trying to eat as healthy as possible, although I was inconsistent at managing a healthy diet.  Nonetheless, I ate better as an adult than as a kid. At 46 years old, my arteries surely were hardening due to genetics and years of a high fat diet.  The intense workouts were keeping my heart pumping and blood flowing, so thoughts of a heart attack were far from my mind.

There was another interesting phenomenon that could have been happening inside of me.  The constant state of high stress and my tendency for anxiety were causing the hormones and chemicals in my body to keep me in a perpetual state of “fight or flight.”  This was exhibited by the steady churning in my stomach, frequent jolts of acute alertness, and the subsequent need to catch my breath.

For decades, researchers have studied the correlation between stress and heart disease and the conclusions have been consistent – stress leads to a poor diet, lack of sleep and exercise, and high blood pressure.  Recent research has also made a connection with high levels of steady stress and a sudden heart attack.  According to these studies, the chemical reaction in the body that produces the “fight or flight” sensation causes the blood to start thickening and clotting in preparation for a blow to the body that could result in an injury inflicted during a physical altercation.  In other words, the body is getting ready for a fight and protects itself from potential excessive bleeding.

Since my return to college and subsequent entrance into the world of career-building and redemption, my body had been in a perpetual state of alertness. During the first six months of 2010, that high level of stress my body had experienced for more than two decades had intensified many times over. For sure the blood that flowed through my body had thickened and clotted with every crisis I confronted as it squeezed through the narrow openings of plaque-filled arteries.

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To read past excerpts of “Summer in the Waiting Room” click here: https://esereport.com/summer-in-the-waiting-room/

Summer in the Waiting Room: Chapter 4 (excerpt #30)

Summer in the Waiting Room

Summer Cover Photo

My campaign to persuade the school board to approve the A-G Initiative was reaching its critical phase.  I was able to engage the influential Silicon Valley Education Foundation to lead the community outreach effort as resistance to the initiative intensified when the teachers union began a campaign to discredit me.

As the board of supervisors deliberated over the County’s budget, George was maneuvering for parks funds to be used in poor urban areas of his district to the vigorous opposition of suburban parks advocates.  The pilot Latino Leadership Alliance Leadership Academy that I helped create was preparing for the weekend at Stanford.  A successful retreat could make the academy or an unsuccessful weekend could break it.

The ongoing squabbles with my siblings over our parent’s estate had been escalated to a full-fledged dispute.  And promises of a long and negative school board campaign in the fall continued to be heard from my presumptive opponent.

Despite these challenges, I kept pushing myself to the limit bolstered by competitive drive, double lattes, and daily workouts. Sandra and I had been working out together regularly for about eight months with one of my former high school football players named Jerry Brito who was a professional personal trainer.

I met Jerry in the late 1980s when I coached the James Lick High School frosh/sophomore football team.  As a high-school player, he was a hard-working and inspirational player who used those attributes to be an excellent trainer.  Jerry, 38 years old with the chiseled physique of a much younger man, had encouraged, cajoled, and inspired Sandra and me through intense workouts that challenged us physically and mentally.

Both of us felt great losing weight, toning our muscles, and exercising away the stress of our jobs.  Jerry later commented that, while many of his Type A clients came into the gym stressed, he had “never seen someone under so much pressure as you were that week.” On Friday, June 4th, I remembered feeling extreme stress and anxiety during my morning exercise routine.  I finished my workout, but the stress and anxiety weren’t relieved.

The symptoms that dogged me were similar to those I had six years earlier when my doctor diagnosed me with anxiety disorder after my mom and sister Patty died in 2003.  My skin was warm and clammy, I felt pressure in my throat and upper chest area, my shoulders were heavy and ached with discomfort, and I was having a hard time catching my breath. An anxiety attack and its more intense cousin panic attack are caused, not by physical reactions in the body, rather by psychological issues that trigger the nervous system to prepare for a “fight or flight” situation.

In the case of anxiety, the body releases the same hormones that cause the sensation one feels when scared.  As a result, the heart starts beating faster causing the clammy skin, and chest pain, and the chemical imbalance from the hormone release causes the shortness of breath, which leads to heavy shoulders. Anxiety is usually triggered by extreme stress for a prolonged period, a life-changing event, as in the case of my mom and Patty dying during the same year, or both.

During a panic or anxiety attack, none of the symptoms physically harm the body. They cause discomfort and psychological distractions that could hamper a person’s ability to function on even the simplest of tasks. After the diagnosis in 2004, I participated in several one-on-one therapy, group sessions, and classes that provided anxiety sufferers with the tools to manage symptoms.

What I learned was that anxiety symptoms were the same as those of a heart attack, but less severe. The series of group sessions and classes that I took in 2004 taught breathing exercises to restore the body’s chemical imbalance. The program also included mental exercises to clear thoughts that triggered an attack.  I had learned the lessons well and hadn’t had an anxiety or panic attack since the dark days following the life changing events of 2003.  On Friday, June 4th, I felt as though an anxiety relapse was lurking around the corner.

After the morning workout on June 4th, I spent a little time doing relaxation and breathing exercises before dressing for work.  The exercises seemed to work, and I had an uneventful start to the weekend spending time with Sandra, the girls, and larger Peralta family.  On Saturday, Sandra, the girls and I lounged around the house, my mind cleared of the of the county and school district budgets, the A-G Initiative, and my parents’ living trust.

Summer in the Waiting Room: Chapter 4 – 360 Days (excerpt #29)

Summer in the Waiting Room, , ,
IMG-20130729-00144
With Sandra, Marisa, and Erica at the Peralta 50th Wedding Anniversary – May 29, 2010 (Sandra & Eddie García family photo)

In addition to managing my own school board agenda and the ongoing tension with my siblings, at work I was the chief policy strategist for the office during the county’s $4 billion budget process. This required horse trading and intense negotiations as the county was in its tenth straight year of budget cuts. The strain on me was reaching the point of being intolerable. I slept just a few hours each night.

The pressure on my neck, stomach, and chest felt like the familiar panic disorder symptoms that led to my first health scare six years before. I was wearing myself down, but I kept pushing ahead trying to manage the responsibilities I had created for myself.  With the personal, professional, and political madness swirling around me, the last Saturday in May provided much needed relief.  Sandra’s parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary with a beautiful mass and an elegant reception on May 29, 2010.

The reception was held at Silicon Valley’s exclusive Capital Club atop the Knight-Ridder building, a structure named for the Ridder family who was the longtime publisher of the San Jose Mercury News.  The Peraltas, their four daughters and sons-in-law, and their eleven grandchildren hosted the party. The men and boys wore black tie, and the women and girls donned formal evening gowns.

The guests were served a four-course meal accompanied by live mariachi music, George presented an official county proclamation congratulating my in-laws, and some guests danced the night away while others enjoyed cocktails and cigars on the terrace that overlooked the valley.

Later in the evening, the celebrants convened for a nightcap at the prestigious Fairmont Hotel next door. In an effort to show my health and vigor, I challenged younger relatives to push-up contests on the lounge floor to the enjoyment of those in the lobby and the laughter of Sandra and my brothers-in-law.

Sandra, the girls, and I took a family photo that day with a large picture window serving as the background. The camera lens captured east San Jose sprawling out in the distance. Wearing a black tuxedo with black tie and a red rose pinned to the lapel of the jacket, I confidently sat in a chair with my back straight, chin up, and hands overlapping each other. With poise and warm welcoming smiles, Sandra, Marisa, and Erica stood behind me elegantly dressed. Looking at that photo, one might guess that I was a successful man surrounded by his beautiful family at the pinnacle of his life.

Underneath the façade of the formal attire, dramatic backdrop, and appearance of confidence that bordered on brashness, I had been feeling fatigued and anxious for most of the week. Sandra commented that I looked especially tired and lethargic that night. The day after the party would give me a moment to relax as the extended Peralta family gathered at Kim and Miguel’s house for the family’s traditional “day-after” barbecue.

I gorged on ribs and washed them down with a few beers. My nephew Andres, who turned eleven years old that day, challenged me to a one-on-one basketball game on his backyard court.  Andres was a good athlete, but slender and much shorter than me. I figured I would dispose of him quickly and get back to the ribs and beer.

I took and made a few jump shots on my way to a sure rout when I suddenly had difficulty breathing. Bending over with my hands on my knees trying to catch my breath, I was sure that the long night of partying and my rigorous work schedule caused the breathless sensation. We stopped playing and I decided to spend the rest of the day relaxing and enjoying time with the family knowing that I had a hectic week ahead.

Summer in the Waiting Room: Chapter 4 – 360 Days (excerpt #28)

Leadership, Summer in the Waiting Room,
Standing on the porch at 48 Viewmont Avenue with my mom circa 2002 (García family photo)
Standing on the porch at 48 Viewmont Avenue with my mom circa 2002
(García family photo)

Blogger’s note: This is the 28th installment from my manuscript of Summer in the Waiting Room: How Faith, Family, and Friends Saved My Life. I post weekly excerpts every Wednesday morning. Check out the “About Summer in the Waiting Room” link at the top of this page to learn more about the story. To read previous installments, go to the “Tags” link and click on “Summer in the Waiting Room.”

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Feeling nostalgic, I drove the familiar route that I used to walk as a teenager: right on White Road out of the school parking lot, left on Alum Rock Avenue through the Alum Rock Village, three blocks up Alum Rock Avenue, then a right on Viewmont Avenue.  Viewmont Avenue was different than it was when I was a kid, but in many ways it was just the same.

The families I grew up with were all gone with exception of the Ornelas family who lived across the street at 49 Viewmont.  Tony Ornelas was my godfather for Confirmation, his wife Marty served as godmother to my little sister Sisi for her First Communion, and I went to school with their kids.  Behind the wheel of a late model BMW sedan and wearing a business suit, I felt an enormous sense of pride and accomplishment as I slowly drove past the small tract homes of my childhood.

I continued through the east side on my way home passing more familiar places: right turn on Rose Avenue and left onto Dale Drive where the Alvarez, Moreno, Furlow, and Garcia families used to live and the Rodriguez family still lived.  Then I made a left on East Hills Drive driving past the elementary school I attended before turning right on Meadow Lane where my boyhood friend Rudy lived.

When I passed his house on Meadow Lane, I was reminded of how long it had been since I had seen him, or even talked to him.  We had spent many a day and night at that house drinking and partying without any concern for the future.  I drove on toward my house in the Evergreen Valley where the homes were bigger, the streets wider, and the roadways lined by trees, where many east side kids moved when they became more financially secure.

During the fifteen minute drive home, still feeling the warm glow of a busy day filled with accomplishment, I reflected on my life.  It had been a rollercoaster for sure, and now it was clearly on the upswing.

Several months after my triumphant return to James Lick High School’s graduation, the school board appointed me president of the board for 2010.  Once again, drive and ambition would dominate my life, and the New Year started at full throttle.  In my role as school board president, I could set the district’s agenda for the year.

A student group, Californians for Justice, had been lobbying the board for over five years to institute a policy to make graduation requirements parallel to college entrance requirements called the “A-G Initiative.”  Now, as president of the board, I had the ability to do that, and if successful, I could further solidify my chances to win the election in November.

The A-G Initiative became the centerpiece of my State of the District Address in January 2010, which I delivered to an overflow crowd at James lick High School.  In spite of the teachers union’s aggressive and underhanded behind-the-scenes fight against the initiative, I enlisted the support of the Silicon Valley Education Foundation to educate the community on the merits of the initiative and put together a coalition of students, parents, and public officials to campaign for its passage.

The upcoming summer would surely be challenging. The teacher’s union had recruited a disgruntled former district administrator to challenge me in the general election scheduled for November, so I needed to prepare for a full-blown campaign.  The final decision about what was left of my parent’s estate, a rental house they owned, created friction in our family.  The pressure and stress were almost unbearable, but this is exactly what I sought since returning to college, and I was having fun.

Sandra continued to express concern about how the pace was taking a toll on me. But I didn’t listen. I had failures to overcome, ambition, and energy.  Sandra was right though, I was exhausted and the only thing that carried me through each day was the adrenalin fueled by my drive to succeed and three Starbucks double lattes per day.

Later that spring, my political prospects got a boost. Steve Poizner, a millionaire Republican candidate for governor of California wrote a book denigrating Mt. Pleasant High, a school located in the district I represented in east San Jose.  In a detailed letter citing California law against using public school facilities for political purposes, I publicly chastised the gubernatorial candidate and prohibited him from appearing for a scheduled campaign stop on the Mt. Pleasant campus.

Poizner canceled his appearance at the school, but kept a scheduled book-signing at a local Barnes and Noble bookstore. With over 100 community members, Mt. Pleasant students, faculty, and alumni, I awaited the candidate’s arrival at the bookstore.  Surrounded by his entourage, Poizner entered the store through a side entrance to avoid the crowd.

Waiting for him at the door of the side entrance, I demanded that he respond to the negative stereotypes about Latino kids, the east side, and Mt. Pleasant high school described in his book as news reporters and their cameras covered our brief exchange. The episode made statewide news, and the east side community recognized me as a defender of the community. That evening left me with a greater sense of ambition and inspired me to worker harder.

Summer in the Waiting Room: Chapter 4 – 360 Days (excerpt #27)

Summer in the Waiting Room,
Photo courtesy of www.publicschoolreview.com
Photo courtesy of http://www.publicschoolreview.com

Blogger’s note: This is the 27th installment from my manuscript of Summer in the Waiting Room: How Faith, Family, and Friends Saved My Life. I post weekly excerpts every Wednesday morning. Check out the “About Summer in the Waiting Room” link at the top of this page to learn more about the story. To read previous installments, go to the “Tags” link and click on “Summer in the Waiting Room.”

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Chapter 4

360 days

June 10, 2009, was graduation day for my high school alma mater, and it would mark the beginning of a feverish 360 days that sent my political prospects on a promising path.  It started out like any other day. I got out of bed at 6:30 in the morning, reviewed my daily calendar of appointments, and washed up to take Erica to swim practice.

After dropping off Erica, I went to the YMCA for a morning workout, then took Marisa to swim practice, picked up Erica, took a shower, dressed for work, stopped to buy a cup of coffee at the neighborhood Starbucks, and headed to my first appointment for the day.

Later that evening, while driving home after a typical full day, my thoughts wandered to the idyllic time growing up on Viewmont Avenue, my struggles as a young man, the years of redemption, the crushing school board campaign of 2008, and the rise out of the devastation of that defeat to serve on the school board again.  It dawned on me that I was experiencing a life I never could have imagined as a kid.

June 10th was a Wednesday. I had a standing appointment on my calendar for every Wednesday morning to meet with the chief of staff to the congresswoman who represented San Jose in the United States House of Representatives.  The major topic of discussion for the meeting would be a delicate conversation about building a park on federal property in the congresswoman’s district.

I wanted to know if the she would support the concept and help guide George through the process of the acquiring the property for the County.  Once the chief was satisfied that I had addressed all of her questions, she said that the congresswoman could support the concept and made some suggestions on how we could work together to make it a reality.  The day was off to a great start as I headed to the office.

Once at the office, I had just enough time to return several phone calls and e-mails, brainstorm with the staff about brewing issues, and check in with George.  As usual, the check-in covered a variety of issues in short amount time.  After the briefing, I returned a few more phone calls and e-mails before George and I were off to a trendy Oaxacan-style restaurant in the heart of downtown San Jose.

We went to the restaurant, located in the shadow of the city’s historic 18th-century St. Joseph Cathedral, for a lunch meeting with the Consul General of Mexico. We discussed a proposed County partnership with the consulate. After lunch, I was back in the office huddling with the staff to prepare for afternoon meetings.  I loved working in a fast-paced and dynamic environment where every day brought new challenges and required complex decision-making. And this work did just that.

With my day job coming to an end, I rushed to the elevator to go the ten floors down to the lobby of the County Administration Building. Once on the ground floor, I hustled across a breezeway to my car. As a member of the board of education, I was scheduled to preside over the graduation ceremonies at James Lick High School.

The ceremony had all of the excitement and anticipation fitting a high school graduation. The graduates were anxious and impatient as they waited to enter the small football stadium. They wore dark green gowns and mortarboards to honor the school colors.  The principal gave me the chance to speak to the students before the ceremony, and I told them something about being proud to have grown up in the neighborhood.

I doubt that any of them heard what I had said.  As soon as I finished my comments, the sound of a recorded version of “Pomp and Circumstance,” the traditional graduation processional march, started blaring over the stadium speakers.  Wearing a black suit with a white shirt and dark green tie, I walked proudly onto the field next to the principal and found my seat on the stage as the faculty followed behind to their seats on the field.

The graduates then filed into the stadium with their green gowns and tassels flowing in the wind to the cheers of family and friends. Standing on the stage watching the spectacle, I couldn’t help but think about the  rocky road I taken to this point in my life. Feelings of pride and humility washed over me when I realized I was playing such an important role in the very ceremony that my brothers, sisters, and I participated in so many years before.

After the speeches and conferring of diplomas, I formally accepted the Class of 2009 on behalf of the school board.  That’s when the real celebration began as the graduates threw their caps in the air, families and friends cheered, the recessional march played over the loudspeakers, and those in the bleachers stormed the field to congratulate their favorite graduate. I walked out of the stadium unnoticed to the jubilant celebrants.

When I got into my car, I decided to drive by my old neighborhood just to see how it was doing.  For nearly a half century, my family lived just a few short blocks from the high school. I always felt safe and at peace when driving through Viewmont Avenue. On June 10th, I also felt a sense of accomplishment.

“Summer in the Waiting Room” Returns August 6th!

Summer in the Waiting Room, , ,
Celebrating my 50th birthday with Sandra, Marisa, and Erica (Sandra & Eddie García family photo)
Celebrating my 50th birthday with Sandra, Marisa, and Erica
(Sandra & Eddie García family photo)

God sure has a funny way of teaching life lessons. For me, faith was a merely a concept until I had a major health crisis. Spending an entire summer in the hospital changed everything.

Summer in the Waiting Room: How Faith, Family, and Friends Saved My Life is my story. It’s the tale of a boy who grew up in a working-class neighborhood, failed miserably at college and fell into despair and hopelessness, met the love of his life, married, finished college, raised a family, and found success in business and public office.

It’s also the story of a man who vowed never to fail again and worked tirelessly to redeem himself, only to find true redemption, while in a state of complete helplessness in the ICU, through faith in God, and the love and support of family, and friends.

Since January, East Side Eddie Report.com has posted 26 excerpts of the story. After a one-month hiatus,  Summer in the Waiting Room will return next Wednesday!

If you need to catch up before next week, click on the “Summer in the Waiting Room” tag to the right of this page. Here’s a summary of the first 26 excerpts:

Prologue The Prologue uses the Giant Dipper, a 1920s era roller coaster at the Santa Cruz Beach and Boardwalk in Santa Cruz, California, as a metaphor for the first 46 years of my life.

Part One The Giant Dipper: November 6, 1963 – June 17, 2010

Chapter 1: 48 Viewmont Avenue Chapter 1 chronicles my life growing up in a working-class east San Jose neighborhood at 48 Viewmont Avenue. This chapter sets the foundation for the values I learned from my parents and follows my idyllic childhood through my failure at college, and subsequent period of drinking and dead end jobs.

Chapter 2: Sandra Peralta Chapter 2 introduces my future wife Sandra and her family, a loyal and tightly-knit unit. This chapter describes our long courtship, marriage, and starting a family. It also recounts my efforts to return to college, graduate, and start my journey toward redemption of my college failure.

Chapter 3: Redemption Chapter 3 follows my obsessive quest for self-redemption following college graduation. For 16 years, I worked around the clock seeking success and recognition as an entry-level political aide, corporate manager, director, and vice president, political chief-of-staff, and high school trustee.

Chapter 4: 360 days Chapter 4 opens on June 10, 2009, with me presiding over my high school alma mater graduation ceremony as a member of the Board of Education. With each professional accomplishment, my desire to succeed intensifies until stress and a frenetic work schedule bring it all down 360 days later on June 7, 2010.

Chapter 4 begins on August 6th…Don’t miss it!

Summer in the Waiting Room: Summer Break

Summer in the Waiting Room
Image from www.catscollections.com
Image from http://www.catscollections.com

God sure has a funny way of teaching life lessons. For those who believe that they alone hold the keys to their own destiny, these lessons can be hard, and in some cases, fatal. For me, faith was a merely a concept. By my early 20s, due to self-perceived shortcomings, I deemed myself a complete failure. With an obsession to excel, self-determination, hard work, and a quixotic quest for redemption, I fought my failure demons for the next two decades. At the age of 46, I had almost conquered them, when, on June 7, 2010, I had a massive heart attack.

Summer in the Waiting Room: How Faith, Family, and Friends Saved My Life is my story. It’s the inspiring tale of a boy who grew up in a working-class neighborhood, failed miserably at college and fell into despair and hopelessness, met the love of his life, married, finished college, raised a family, and found success in business and public office. It’s also the story of a man who vowed never to fail again and worked tirelessly to redeem himself, only to find true redemption, while in a state of complete helplessness in the ICU, through faith in God, and the love and support of family, and friends.

For the past 26 weeks, I’ve posted excerpts of the story. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it so far.  Summer will take a hiatus until August 6th. This will give you a chance to catch up or read installments you missed. Each excerpt can be found by clicking on the “Summer in the Waiting Room” tag to the right of this page.

Here’s a chapter by chapter summary of the excerpts posted to date:

Prologue

The Prologue uses the Giant Dipper, a 1920s era roller coaster at the Santa Cruz beach and Boardwalk in Santa Cruz, California, as a metaphor for the first 46 years of my life.

Part One The Giant Dipper: November 6, 1963 – June 17, 2010

Chapter 1: 48 Viewmont Avenue

Chapter 1 chronicles my life growing up in the working-class east San Jose neighborhood at 48 Viewmont Avenue. This chapter sets the foundation for the values I learned from my parents and follows my idyllic childhood through my failure at college, and subsequent period of drinking and dead end jobs.

Chapter 2: Sandra Peralta

Chapter 2 introduces my future wife Sandra and her family, a loyal and tightly-knit unit. This chapter describes our long courtship, marriage, and starting a family. It also recounts my efforts to return to college, graduate, and start my journey toward redemption of my college failure.

Chapter 3: Redemption

Chapter 3 follows my obsessive quest for self-redemption following college graduation. For 16 years, I worked around the clock seeking success and recognition as an entry-level political aide, corporate manager, director, and vice president, political chief-of-staff, and high school trustee.

Chapter 4: 360 days – Beginning on August 6th

Summer in the Waiting Room: Chapter 3 (excerpt #26)

Summer in the Waiting Room,
Talking with students during my 2008 campaign for the high school board (campaign photo)
Talking with students during my 2008 campaign for the high school board
(campaign photo)

Blogger’s note: The following passage is the final installment of Chapter 3: “Redemption” from my manuscript of Summer in the Waiting Room: How Faith, Family, and Friends Saved My Life. ” Summer in the Waiting Room will take a three-week hiatus and resume on Wednesday, July 8th.

********************

My professional career and political prospects were progressing well in 2008.  I had the privilege of attending the Democratic National Convention in Denver, Colorado, as a Comcast executive and witnessed history when Senator Barrack Obama accepted the nomination of his party for president of the United States.  The general election of 2008 would also be the testing ground for my potential run at higher office.  I was an incumbent school board member who had an admirable, if not distinguished, record on the school board running for election to keep the seat to which I had been appointed.

I had secured the endorsement of the teacher’s union, my colleagues on the board, the San Jose Mercury News, and nearly every politician who served residents in San Jose.  I also amassed more campaign funds than the other candidate.  With this profile, winning election seemed to be assured.  There was one problem. My opponent was a former longtime trustee who had name recognition as a school board member.

When the votes were counted on election night, November 4, 2008, Barrack Obama became the first black president in the history of the United States, and I had I lost again.  Over the course of twelve years, I had attempted to win election to public office four times and earned the trust of financial supporters and volunteers, but emerged with no victories.  My political career was in tatters.

That same election, a longtime friend, George Shirakawa, ran for and was elected to the county board of supervisors.  Right after his election, he asked me to consider leaving Comcast to join his team as chief of staff.  We made a great team on the school board and George persuaded me that we could make a big difference working together at Santa Clara County. I would have to take a large pay cut, but I would be home every night and would not have to travel across the nation.

Even though I was dejected by the results of my election, I was looking forward to a new venture helping George assemble his staff and leading a team that could make a positive impact in the community. Also, the day after Election Day, the new president of the school board invited me to breakfast and encouraged me to apply for the appointment of the seat vacated by George as a result of his election to the county board of supervisors.  Demoralized, I couldn’t imagine putting myself through that pain again.  But the pain of failure cut deeper, and after a long talk with Sandra and some personal soul-searching. I accepted the challenge and was reappointed to the board of trustees two months later.

I was busy at the start of 2009 setting up the supervisor’s office and seeking opportunities to be an effective school board trustee.  The pace at the county board of supervisors was slow compared to the hustle of the corporate world, so I added another major project to my plate.  I was part of a group that started a leadership academy to help professional Latinos develop community leadership skills.  It was going to be a busy schedule, but I didn’t have to travel anymore. I would be able to spend time with my family and sleep in my own bed every night.

On the school board, the opportunity to make my mark came immediately. Before I began my second appointed tenure, the board unanimously voted to close a budget shortfall by eliminating after-school sports to the outrage of the community.  The final decision would be made later in the spring when I was back on the board.  I believed deeply in the value of extracurricular athletics as it had been a great experience for me in high school.

Despite vigorous opposition by the teachers union, I supported student-athletes, parents, and the community by hosting town hall meetings, writing an op-ed article in the newspaper, and meeting with my colleagues and other influential people in the community to persuade them to save sports.  In late May 2009, the board voted 4-1 to maintain the after-school sports program. I had the momentum I needed to position myself for a strong election campaign to earn my appointed seat in 2010.