I Met the Widow Maker and Won This Round

I've heard from people lost off my radar for years. I've heard from a few beautiful ex-girlfriends (one going all the way back to high school!). I've heard from loved ones and, what one fears all along about certain 'friends' one finds is true. This kind of stuff brings many life validations. And an absolute confirmation that I have amazing, amazing friends and family. And a number of interested folks around the world. The number of hits to entry one was surprising.

What has struck me most from private and public messages here, email, FB, and phone messages is the many who have said, "You'd be missed." Realize I never once, not at any moment, believed I was going to die. Death never crossed my mind. A knowledgeable friend informed me the artery they cleaned is known as 'the widow maker.' I wonder what it’s called if one doesn’t have someone who would become the widow (or even the girlfriend who gets one of those gorgeous gothic stories to tell after the funeral... especially stories of my certain beyond-the-grave visits to her as she undresses each night at her mirror). The widow maker. Jesus.

My second visit with Dr Ummat encouraged me. My vitals are all good. Thing is, we don’t really know what numbers weren’t good before the attack. I didn’t have a family doctor, as I mentioned, so we aren’t sure what of these meds are long-term necessary. We do know the cholesterol levels were high (good was low, bad was high… but not dangerously high). My blood pressure on these meds actually runs a little low right now so I’m hoping we’ll knock those off in time. My weight is dropping, which is a direct result of increased exercise.

The second angioplasty is delayed until early April. Doc wants to give my heart 8-10 weeks to make a full recovery to whatever recovery is possible. We have cleaned the widow maker so the other artery (in back of the heart) I hope will hang in there through Mardi Gras and April Fool’s Day.

Stress was a giant factor in my illness and in my recovery. Walking certainly improves the body’s reaction to stress. Doc wants me to do at least a moderate walk for one hour every day. Wave (or join) if you see me heading toward Cherokee Park, Tyler Park, or Downtown.

I’ve redone my office area to make it more relaxation friendly. I’m reading two novels at a time (one for study, one for fun). I haven’t hit any music since I returned home, but I’ve restarted going out evenings with friends so the music will come. (Bonaroo lineup was announced and I’ve cleared my schedule for my fourth ‘Roo.) I’ve started making phone calls. I hate talking on the phone. I always have. But in the past week I’ve averaged a phone call every other day, talking with people I don’t often get to see. I’m writing not only my ‘big project’, but I’ve started smaller projects that have no deadline or goals; personal creative ventures into odd places.

The icicles have dripped off the roof and onto plants soon to bloom. Spring is still several weeks away, but it’s teasing us here in the lower Midwest upper South. Spring and summer clothes (or lack thereof) soon to appear can’t be good for a man’s damaged heart, but I’m ready to take the risk. The widow maker is clear.