What is the impact of physical trauma? After a serious injury, surgery or illness, you have to undergo a long rehabilitation process, the hard-earned progress is lost, and you have to overcome yourself to get back to the state you wanted. Legitimate consequences, but they mainly affect the body. And what about the psychological side of physical trauma? Luc van de Rijt, after two open-heart surgeries, talks about this with Dr. Ihsan Natour, the man who held Luc’s fate in his hands twice. “People lose a part of themselves.”
Luke was born with aortic valve insufficiency, a leaky heart valve. If discovered, he would have to undergo surgery in 2019. What followed was an extensive open-heart surgery by Dr. Natour. A year later, Luke is telling his story in Men’s Health magazine. His years of fitness progress have been undone. His reflection is forever etched in the scar that splits his chest in two. He talks about the physical toll of being in the hospital for weeks, eating little or nothing, and the enormous distances he travels to get to his favorite gym.
I lost control
And in March 2024, it happened again. Due to a rare bacterial infection—endocarditis—that Luke was likely to contract after his previous operation, he had to undergo surgery again. And again his body took the same hit. No exercise, little exercise at all, hardly any food. He has now recovered from this operation. But his story deserves a different twist. A little-known subject, according to his surgeon, Natour.
“People suddenly find themselves in a situation where they have lost control, but they have also lost their identity,” begins the doctor who has already performed thousands of major operations. “They are fragile and vulnerable at the same time. They are not prepared for this in any way, but they have to get through it. And with this process at its core, Natour founded the foundation to stop On. Dedicated to people whose lives have stopped. The doctor also wrote a book on the subject: When life stops.
Losing yourself
This applies to both the person who has been diagnosed and their environment. “It is an important secondary aspect that you enter into the grieving process. You, but also your environment. You have lost something: your ‘I’. And because this is intangible for others, you suffer from a kind of loneliness. Even though you have recovered, you are alone. Because people cannot relate to your situation and your suffering. And this is also difficult, because you do not want to make someone more pathetic or more vulnerable, for example.
He continues with a striking example. ‘A 25-year-old woman had to have a bypass operation (due to a narrowing of the coronary artery).’ This condition has left her physically unfit, meaning she can no longer join her walking group. ‘At a certain point, these women choose to walk without her, because she is too slow. There is no harm intended, but the woman in question is left alone.
Luke recognizes himself through his doctor’s words. “You can also tell who your real friends are.” He really felt that way. One spoke regularly. He hadn’t heard from the others for weeks or months. Still, he didn’t want to judge too quickly. “I can understand what the doctor is prescribing. And these people don’t know either. A friend of mine later told me he didn’t know if I needed it. But… isn’t it easier to send an app these days?” Luke expressed his feelings and is now on good terms with his friend again.
Expressing his feelings, Dr. says that there is still room for improvement after all. “Even after a successful intervention, life changes forever. People are afraid: what if it happens again?” he explains. “You have experienced how you can suddenly become vulnerable, and this awareness still remains. How do you deal with it? At least not by denying or avoiding this fear. Precisely by making it a topic for discussion.” He emphasizes again that after this trauma, people start a new life, where they leave a piece of themselves in the past and must be able to deal with it.
Resilience
Although Luke has always kept his eyes on the road, the doctor makes him think again. “Yes… I’ve been robbed of a kind of open-mindedness. A carefree life. Now when I feel a twinge, or get sick and feverish, terrible scenarios run through my mind. I couldn’t even imagine that about ten years ago.
Natour describes Luke as “an example of resilience and positivity” for anyone who finds themselves in such a situation. This doesn’t necessarily mean having heart surgery, as cancer patients also experience a loss of “self.” “Like losing a loved one, it becomes part of your life. It belongs to you,” he advises. “Don’t focus too much on what you can no longer do. He wants (former) patients to create their new lives, rather than continue to grieve for who they were before.”
It’s a Socratic maxim. The Greek philosopher of his day, 450–399 B.C., said the secret to change is to “concentrate all your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new.” His comparison to the loss of a loved one is apt. We often tell ourselves and others that the deceased person would have wanted him or her, or me or you, to continue living. Wouldn’t the former “I” want the same thing?
Luke has gained a lot of strength from the support of his family, but he knew that eventually he had to do it on his own. “Giving up was never an option. Yes, I lost my progress in the gym a few times. But I’m especially happy that I can still exercise.” He also ends by putting a positive spin on his trauma. “You also become more grateful for the life you still have. “I don’t want to see myself as a victim who keeps looking back. I’m a survivor, which means I still have a lot to live for.”
