Louis B. Smith Jr. served in the Army for 21 years. But Smith faced one of his most life-threatening moments off the battlefield and at home in Country Club Hills.
At 63, Smith was diagnosed with cardiac amyloidosis, which causes heart failure. Around Thanksgiving last year, he was given priority status on the heart transplant list.
Two weeks later, the transplant surgery was good to go. However, Smith had a request to his surgeon before the procedure. “Can you do me a favor?” Smith asked. “When you cut me, can you try to save the tattoo on my chest?”
It was a request Smith’s cardiac surgeon, Dr. Benjamin Bryner, at Northwestern Medicine’s Bluhm Cardiovascular Institute was happy to follow — especially since Smith was so good at following doctors’ requests.
“He was up for any kind of challenge we said he was going to need to do and up for any audacious plan for him,” Bryner said. “He didn’t bat an eyelash at these things.”
Life of service
Smith joined the Army when he was 17. While he said he was into military movies as a kid, one of the biggest reasons he joined was his family’s history. All 10 of his uncles served in the Army or Marines, and his father was in the Army.
“I was a kind of rugged kid,” said Smith, now 66. “I just always wanted to be in the Army, and that was because of my dad… It just made me feel proud, made my parents feel proud, my dad feel proud.”
His time in the Army took him to Korea, Germany, Saudi Arabia and Iraq and included serving in Operation Desert Storm.
Smith said the camaraderie of his time in the Army is what he remembers most. He recalls more light-hearted moments fondly, like times when he could relax and bond with other soldiers and their families at barbecues.
In 1998, Smith retired from the Army. But soon after, his Army recruiter asked him to work as an ROTC instructor. Smith was skeptical at first, so his recruiter invited him to watch a drill competition to see what the job was like.
“All these kids, in here, wearing these uniforms, looking sharp and everything,” Smith remembered. “And then when they started getting out there and doing the drills, I said, ‘I’m in.’”
The appeal, he said, was because it was all things he had done for so many years of his life. It was what he knew best.
A tattoo worth saving
Once Smith was diagnosed with the genetic illness cardiac amyloidosis, Smith saw his motor skills decline, he said. Tasks like mowing the lawn or tending to his flowers, which he does with his wife, became extremely difficult. Going up a few stairs would leave him out of breath.
Protecting the tattoo was important to him when he was finally able to get a heart transplant. The tattoo, which reads, “I did it my way,” is a reference to the famous Frank Sinatra song “My Way.” It’s one Smith used to sing with his father before he died in 2007.
Requests like this aren’t uncommon, Bryner said. Making sure the patient’s request is respected is always important.
“What we’re already proposing with surgery is in some (way) an imposition on their personal space and privacy and identity,” he said. “I think it’s a good chance to reiterate our respect for them as an individual.”
After a long recovery, Smith is getting back to normal. He even was able to bike all the way to Springfield this year, though that’s not as far as his cross-country trips often take him.
All in all, Smith is grateful to his doctors and to the family of the person who gave him a new heart.
“I would really love to tell them that personally,” he said. “I’m a personal person, and I just want everybody to come together.”