Robert Beecham

Published: 1/26/2024

Robert Beecham had just celebrated his first birthday when he sat down to talk about what his first year of “life” has been like.

Now many would question a 1-year-old talking, let alone contemplating their first 12 months of life, but Robert Beecham isn’t your typical guy.

“On June 8, 2022, I celebrated my ‘first’ birthday,” he said, an ever-present smile on his face. “Don’t I look good for a 1-year-old?” In reality, Beecham was about to celebrate his 69th year surrounded by the love of his life, his wife of nearly 50 years, Janice, their three sons and his beloved grandchildren.

But celebrating this gift of life meant another family was mourning the loss of their loved one because, you see, Beecham was celebrating the one-year anniversary of receiving a new heart at W.P. Clements University Hospital in Dallas. “I was asking myself, ‘why did I survive all of this’ when someone else lost their life,” he said describing how he was overcome with survivor’s remorse. “I’ve heard people describe situations where there’s a plane crash and 60 people were killed, but that individual survived and begins to question ‘why’ they’re still alive. I understood that.”

Beecham, who is an accomplished poet, has penned a poem and what he describes as a “long letter” to the family who was so generous to gift him the gift of life. One day he hopes to be able to thank them in person.

Until then he wipes away a tear that has welled in the corner of his eye. “Forgive me, I didn’t used to do this,” he says of his tears. “It’s just something I do now.”

And with good reason.

Beecham’s healthcare journey has been filled with so many twists and turns that it could have taken even the most resilient person down, but “I always had Janice telling me ‘you come back home to me’,” he said subtlety wiping a tear.

Their love story, which began when they were high school sweethearts; he a basketball player and she a cheerleader. “Someone dared me to kiss him, and I said, ‘Robert Beecham, come over here.’ I stood up on a chair because he was so tall and I did it,” she said recently. “And then I couldn’t get rid of him.”

Married nearly five decades, the Beecham’s have stayed strong through their better and worse. Parkland has been at the heart of navigating some of the worst.

“I will owe Parkland forever,” he says matter-of-factly. From primary care at community health centers to more acute care in the hospital, Parkland has taken care of the Beecham’s for decades. In fact, his history dates back to 1954 “when I was born at Parkland.” More recently, he received care in Parkland in 2014 and 2016 for strokes, and again in 2020 for COVID-19. Along the way, Parkland Financial Assistance helped Beecham pay his medical bills before he qualified for healthcare coverage.

Each time he says the staff at Parkland got him on his feet and back home to Janice. But a diagnosis of atrial fibrillation, or AFib, nearly took him away from his beloved bride.

“I was going to one of my appointments and then we were planning on having lunch at Texas Roadhouse,” Beecham recalled. “I had periodically felt bad. I was tired, weak and had shortness of breath, but I didn’t think much of it. That’s when the doctors said you’re not going to Texas Roadhouse, we’re putting you in the ICU.”

His heart, providers said, was working at a mere 15% of what it should be. His prognosis? Maybe 6 months to a year. There were three options, continue with medication, which by now had proven ineffective, get an LVAD (left ventricular assist device for patients who have reached endstage heart failure) or finally, a heart transplant.

Describing an LVAD, Beecham said, “It’s a battery-operated, mechanical pump and during the day I’d be wearing a backpack, but at night it plugs into the wall with a 20-foot cord so you can get up and go to the restroom if you needed. Janice had been through a lot; it would have been just too much on her.”

Janice had weathered multiple health crises herself including uterine and breast cancer, not to mention COVID-19 and Beecham wasn’t willing to burden her with any more.

That’s when he got a wake-up call from his cardiologist Robert Morlend, MD, who told him he was being selfish. “He told me I needed to stop thinking about myself and think about what my wife, my kids and my grandkids would be going through when I was gone,” Beecham said. “Before that, I had never considered myself selfish. I thought about what he said. I prayed about it. And finally, I agreed to be put on the transplant list.”

Knowing that the odds of getting a heart, especially for someone who is 6’4” with O-positive blood, would be a long-shot, but Beecham had defied the odds many times before.

Janice, on the other hand, told doctors she knew he wouldn’t be on the list for long and predicted that her spouse would have a transplant within 15 days. “She really did!” he said laughing at the memory.

“There’s a verse in the Bible where Hezekiah was told to get his house in order, and he turned his face toward the wall and prayed. God heard his prayers and extended his life,” Beecham said. “Well, Janice began to call me Hezekiah and she’d place her hand on my heart and she’d pray.”

She did that every day, and on the 14th day, Beecham was told a heart had been located. Relieved, but nonetheless scared, he prepared himself mentally for a surgery that ultimately didn’t take place. Then, at 9:30 p.m. that same day, he was moved out of ICU into another room. That’s when he said he began watching the clock. The minutes slowly ticked by 10. 10:30. 11. “And at 12:15 a.m. on the 15th day, the doctors told me they had a donor.”

Since his “birthday” Beecham has followed all that has been set forth by his providers. He keeps daily track of his medications, which includes an antirejection drug that he will take for the rest of his life, exercises regularly, watches what he eats and rejoices in every new day.

“I feel like I’m in my 30’s,” he says wiping away a tear. “Every day has truly been a blessing.”

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