This past weekend marked the 9th week since my surgery. The comment I get the most is that I look good. As I look in the mirror, I wonder how bad did I look before the surgery........ I have yet to fully accept what has occurred in my life. I still feel the incision in my right leg, and in my chest. Physically, final acceptance is when I can look at my chest scar everyday in the mirror and let Gayle poke me there. She does that when I get out of line and it gives me the willies when ever she tries to touch me there. She has a fascination with that scar.
It is starting to sink in that there was a good possibility that I might not have made it through the surgery. Gayle says she always knew that I would pull through. That has become our theological debate. I did not have the same confidence. When we are alone, it becomes more of a reality that I could have died earlier than what I expected.
The heart attack has become a metaphor for poking me in the chest of life.
What most folks don't realize is that I am in better physical condition heart wise than before the surgery. I had blockage in my arteries that are no longer there. I have full blood flow through my body with no known heart damage. I know folks with stents put in that don't fully recover due to heart damage.
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