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A while ago, during the afternoon, I suffered a heart attack.

I had felt lousy all day.

After some testing, a friend suggested I undergo angioplasty. I could have the procedure in the morning and return home in the afternoon.

In turned out that the angioplasty was a little more than I bargained for. Not only do I have a hematoma as big as a baseball bat in my left leg, but also 89 percent blockage in the artery leading to my heart.

I was a candidate for a triple-bypass.

So much for the cause. By this date, I have been in three hospitals and two rehabilitation centers. I go home but have ended up coming back.

Each facility had different approaches to the various situations. For example, one hospital tells you when to go to bed and when to get up. I know when to do those things. I really don’t need to be told.

All hospitals have the standard dress code — the johnny. I must admit that I prefer them. By now I have the understanding that wearing a johnny is helpful in many ways. It also helps me get a good night’s sleep.

At this point, I am forced to call the main desk and check on my condition.

I called this morning. The answer I received was that I was resting comfortably — on the bed pan.


Semper Fi

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