Article/Column

Shocked. Even this word fails to come close to describing how people from around the world felt when they heard about the sudden and premature death of legendary NBC newsman, Tim Russert.

 

On the day of his wake, hundreds of people lined up around the building of St. Albans School in Washington, DC, to pay respects to a man whom they had never met but whose death had caused a deep sense of loss in their lives.

 

He was a top television journalist, a best-selling author, a statesman in the world of politics, and – more importantly to him – a proud husband, father and son.

 

Because of Tim Russert, Sunday was not simply a day of worship and rest. As he would say, “If it’s Sunday, it’s Meet the Press.”

 

Even I often found myself rushing home after church to watch the pioneering public affairs show.

 

By all accounts, Tim was as famous as one could get, and yet, he was an everyday man – someone to whom we all could relate.

 

So when the news spread of his death from a heart attack at 58, middle-aged men across the country got scared.

 

They hit the gym and passed up on dessert.

 

Women grabbed measuring tape to wrap around their loved-ones waists while vowing to create healthier household diet and fitness regimes to bring those waist circumferences down to below 40 inches. (According to the American Heart Association, a waistline of more than 40 inches places a man at a high risk for heart disease.)

 

The fact is heart disease is the country's leading cause of death for men and women, killing more than 700,000 people a year, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC).

 

In the African American community, the outlook is even more troubling.

 

African American adults are less likely to be diagnosed with coronary heart disease; however, we are more likely to die from it.

 

We also develop high blood pressure at an earlier age, and, on average, our blood pressure readings are higher than those of other groups. In fact, the prevalence of hypertension in our communities is among the highest in the world.

 

Compared to white Americans, ages 45-65, the premature death rate from heart disease for Black men is twice as high. For Black women, it is three times as high.

 

According to the CDC, from 1996 to 2000, African Americans in Maryland had a heart disease death rate of 620 per 100,000, compared with 500 per 100,000 for whites.

 

In Baltimore City, African Americans are 15 percent more likely to die from heart disease than whites.

 

There is good news, however. Although there are risk factors for heart disease beyond our control such as increasing age, our gender, and our heredity, there are steps we can take to reduce the dangers of heart disease.

 

First, we must take better care of ourselves.

 

We can quit smoking, engage in regular exercise, reduce our consumption of alcohol, reduce the stress in our lives and make healthy choices about the food that we eat.

 

Second, we must educate ourselves.

 

We know that in the case of a heart attack, every second counts and we have generally done an excellent job of informing men of the signs and symptoms they may present when experiencing a heart attack (including chest pain, shortness of breath, and discomfort in the arms).

 

We have neglected to similarly inform women of the specific symptoms that they are more likely to present.  Shortness of breath, nausea, vomiting, and back or jaw pain are all common symptoms of heart attack in women, and far too many lives are lost because women—and, sadly, their health care providers—are unaware of these symptoms.

 

Third, we must continue to challenge the disparities in health care that disproportionately threaten our communities.

 

People of Color have more limited access to affordable, high quality health care.  When heart disease occurs, we are less likely to receive life-saving medical interventions like coronary angiography and coronary revascularization.

 

We continue to face the reality that too little research funding is being focused upon the health risks that threaten minority communities.

 

These harsh facts of life are now publicly acknowledged by leaders in every political party.  The critical test, however, will be our willingness to allocate the public funding that is needed to eliminate race as a mortality factor in this country.

 

Last year, I was proud to join Mayor Sheila Dixon, Delegate Shirley Nathan Pulliam, and Baltimore City Health Commissioner Dr. Joshua Sharfstein, in announcing an initiative to reduce cardiovascular disease and unacceptable health disparities in the Baltimore region.

 

This effort relies heavily on community input to help develop strategies to prevent suffering and save lives through public health efforts.

 

 

 

 

You can also find out more information about the initiative and how you can become involved by visiting http://www.baltimorehealth.org/disparities.htm.

 

We all have the power to attack the number one killer in the United States and live hearth-healthy lives – but everyday that we wait to adopt a better lifestyle is another day we put ourselves at needless risk.