December 23 ten months ago is a pretty vague memory; I spent most of the day in a thick fog of anesthesia and pain medications following my CABG. Coronary Artery Bypass Graft-CABG–is an acronym that still sends a chill up my spine now that I know what the letters stand for and how they apply to me. Maybe more significant, the heart attack that tossed me on the floor of my office didn’t mark the end of life as I knew it. I’m back to bench pressing 150 pounds (my goal is 200, not what I did when I was 40 or even 60 but one hell of a lot better than I could manage ten months ago). I walk at least five miles almost every day and top seven on most days. I practice t’aichi daily. Squat on the floor without using my hands then get back up, same thing, no hands? Takes less than 15 seconds and I do it five times daily.
I do not have shortness of breath even when exercising strenuously. I can carry a 75 pound cooler into the house following a shopping trip to Tucson. Shortly before the ol’ ticker stopped marking time, I had difficulty sliding the cooler out of the car after we arrived back home.
There are parts of life I miss: Passionate sex with five or six different beautiful young women every day, for example. Of course I missed that when I was twenty, too, and could have availed myself of the opportunity had it been presented. The was a time when I could run five miles with a pack on my back but that was five decades ago when I was enduring airborne training and I can’t really say that I enjoyed the trek.
So, two more months and I’ll mark one year of survival. Will I make the year? I think so but I didn’t think I was about to have a heart attack last December 9.
One Day at a Time…