Five Years Post-Op

This past Thursday my wife and I were sitting on our back porch swing. She got my attention with a little poke in the ribs and ask me if I knew what day it was. In a matter of fact way I told her that it was March 13th and asked her why she wanted to know. After my answer she asked again what day it was and then the lights went off. That day marked the fifth anniversary of my bypass surgery. I couldn't believe it that I had not thought of it once. I was too busy thinking about other things. Don't get me wrong. I still think about it quiet often, but I really do go for pretty good stretches of time when I really don't think about.

I remember well the time when my whole mind was consumed with what had just happened to me. I remember thinking that my world had just fallen in around me, but as it turned out it hadn't, and I would make it. I have no idea how long I will live, but to me the most important is that I am living again. I am not thankful for the surgery instead of feeling resentment for having had to have it in the first place.

I know from reading posts on other sites that there are so many people who have just gone through the surgery and you are convinced that your life is over. Everyone's experience is different, but for most people they can and will get better. I try to enjoy everyday to the fullest. It just takes time and the willingness to take a journey that at times can be awful rough.

He Wore Five Out.

"He wore five of them things out." That was the response to my question. I was talking to a retired butcher about his family. In the course of the conversation he mentiontioned his brother and the two heart attacks he had had. The first one hit when he was in his forties, back in 1988. He had bypass surgery. Just a year or so later he had the second heart attack. I then asked my friend, "When did your brother die?" He answered back, "Why he's not dead. He's going strong." I then asked him how his brother was finally doing so well. That's when he said, "He wore five of them things out." I said five what. "Treadmills," he said. It seems his brother decided to get serious,I mean real serious, about exersize after the second heart attack. I told my wife the story and she had the nerve to ask me when I was going to get serious. Could exersize be that important?

Back and Doing Well

My trip to Pepperdine exceeded all expectations. I feel great. I feel alive. I feel whole. I really wondered how my return to the place where it all seemed to have started would feel. For a long time after my bypass I spent a good deal of time wondering when I would have more problems. Every passing pain can feel like a heart attack. I no longer feel that way. I can laugh again. Three years ago my friends were joking about my constant complaining. This year we were laughing together about my past complaining. Recovery takes time. When my wife's uncle told me that I would feel like a new person, but it would take eighteen months, I didn't realize how right he was. I am a survivor.