Serious As A Heart Attack

I was truly chagrined to see how long it had been since I wrote anything here on my blog, seeing as how the whole point of having a blog is to write stuff on it. And in the interest of full disclosure, I probably should back up here and revise my estimate to 75% chagrined, because that's about how sure I am of what the word actually means. But if it means what I think it does, that's what I am.

So why the long absence? Work, school, work work work, school school school, and so on. Like so many of us, it seems that every available minute in my day is spoken for. That's basically my explanation.

Oh, and I had a heart attack. Seriously.

Let me do you the favor of confirming something for you that you probably always suspected: heart attacks are no fun at all. If I had it to do over, I wouldn't, and I hope I never do it again. I can't think of one good thing to say about them. You know how you hear about those near-death experiences? I just had the near-death part...I didn't even get an experience out of the deal. I had no idea it was coming, and I didn't know until it was all over how truly close to checking out I came. So if there was one bright spot, that was probably it: I was so ignorant of what was going on that it wasn't really all that scary.

I could list a good number of reasons why and how I was blessed and fortunate to be where I was when this happened, and some of those reasons are pretty spine-tingling. But I'll spare you a lot of reading by just getting to my main point today. Get checked.

You've heard that a million times. You hear it and go "Yeah, yeah, I know". So did I. And you know what? I don't care...I'm telling you again, me to you, if you think something may be going on, get checked. Not everybody is as blessed and fortunate as I was. I will give you one example. I was supposed to be off work the night I had my heart attack. I complained about working my night off, but went in anyway. If I HAD been off, I would have been at least 25 miles away from any help. Since I worked, I was 2 blocks away from St. Johns Hospital and the Prairie Heart Institute when mine hit. My cardiologist (a term that still seems foreign to me- "my" cardiologist) informed my wife in no uncertain terms that if I hadn't gotten to the hospital when I did, that would have been all she wrote. Actually, "all she wrote" is my terminology. His was fancier, but it carried the same meaning. This is nothing to play around with.

So essentially, that's all I have to say this time around. From time to time, I do get to put something on here. I'd like to be around to do that, and I'd like for you to be around to read it when I do. It can ruin your whole night when Death steps up behind you and taps you on the shoulder.

Overly dramatic? No, it isn't. It's true.

Take my word for it. Get checked.