
3 minute read
He’s all heart
WRITER: JAMES COMBS
Through faith, one can build a brighter future.
That’s something Tim Williams has learned during his strenuous battle with congestive heart failure.
The past few years have tested the 52-year-old Leesburg resident’s courage. Retaining water and ballooning to 424 pounds led to a 28-day hospital stay. Dressing himself was impossible without assistance from his wife, Spring. And he spent days in bed gasping for his next breath.
Odds are against him regaining any semblance of a normal life.
The 6-foot, 9-inch, 345-pound former college basketball player needs a heart transplant.
That in itself would require a miracle.
“Unless Shaquille O’Neal dies,” he says, “it’s going to be difficult to fi nd a heart for somebody my size.”
Spiritually, though, the gentle giant has already undergone a change of heart. He’s using what time he has left to make an everlasting impact on young men he inspires and mentors at a basketball camp.
“Through all of this, I had to learn to detach ‘self’ from my path and realize it’s my destiny to help others. I love myself more than ever because I’m willing to give every aspect of myself to make someone else’s life better.”
Heartbreaking reality
“Your blood pressure is ridiculously high. If you are not careful, you will someday have an enlarged heart.”
A doctor issued that warning to Tim in 1987 when his blood pressure registered at 190/130. The words barely fazed him because he was only three years removed from playing college basketball at Edinboro University in Pennsylvania.
Despite possessing laser-like focus on the basketball court, Tim was not
15 feet using a walker. I took my frustrations out on my wife. I feel bad about that because without her I would not be alive.”
He was forced to go on disability, a devastating blow to someone who spent much of his career passionately counseling youth in reformatories and juvenile detention centers.
Despite his hardships, giving up was never an option. In August 2013, he located a Tampa doctor who performs bloodless heart transplants. That was a godsend, because blood formed a basketball camp for teenagers called No Days Off, or NDO. During the four-day camp, held at his home in June, he incorporated physical fi using equipment he purchased out of pocket. The four children in his camp range in ages from 12 to 15.
“I love using sports as an outlet to teach children because sports bring people together. I also encourage the kids to take a close look at me and I let them know they can prevent heart disease.” mentally prepared to battle earlystage heart disease. It made little sense that a physically fit athlete in his 20s could possibly experience the onset of cardiovascular problems. Living a healthy lifestyle never became a priority.
The consequences followed later in life.
His life-changing moment occurred in January 2010 when he entered the Leesburg Regional Medical Center emergency room gasping desperately for air. Doctors diagnosed him with cardiomyopathy, a condition in which a heart enlarges and is unable to pump blood through the body. At age 48, he had a pacemaker implanted. The pacemaker’s effectiveness was limited, forcing Tim to live a miserable existence between 2012 and 2014.
“I laid around and did nothing. My legs and ankles were swollen because of all the fluid I retained. I was fortunate if I slept two hours each night or walked transfusions confl ict with his beliefs as a Jehovah’s Witness.
“I’d rather die than receive a blood transfusion,” says Tim, who became a Jehovah’s Witness in 2003 and is a member of the Fruitland Park Congregation of Jehovah’s Witness.
He remains on the waiting list for a donor heart of the same blood type and size. Even if a match occurs, he’s left wondering how he’ll pay for expensive post-transplant medication. Meanwhile, he wears a tube around his arm that intravenously pumps Primacor, a medication that helps the heart contract. It’s improved his mobility and breathing but is only a short-term treatment for congestive heart failure.
Ray of hope
Tim realizes his life is not over; it has simply been redirected.
Because the Primacor treatments improved his quality of life, Tim
Tim also uses the camp to draw from his life experiences and help the teens avoid trouble. He was raised by his mother, Emma Williams, in White Plains, New York. He joined a gang and at age 12 was arrested for marijuana possession.
“I don’t want these kids to make the same mistakes I did. Because there’s so much pain and poison in the world today, I openly talk to them about life and encourage them to talk to me about their problems.”
Health permitting, Tim would like to expand the camp to seven days and fi nd a facility large enough to accommodate more children.
“Nothing I do is about me; it’s about my God. He is using me to be a positive role model for others. That in itself gives me hope. Without hope, I would be a terminally ill individual in despair.”
Tim’s heart is physically weak.
But spiritually, it’s stronger than ever.