An Anniversary to Forget

 

I’m usually good about remembering anniversaries, but this year I let one get by me.

That’s a good thing.

The day after Labor Day two years ago I was toward the end of a five-day hospital stint, getting a stent inserted after a heart attack. Quick PSA---If your chest tightens and your arm begins to hurt, don’t ignore it; don’t try to mow the lawn the next day; or wait four days to tell your spouse about your issues.

The experience wasn’t that bad. It was probably worse for Melanie having to manage two active kids. The worst part came a little bit after the stent was inserted. There was blood build-up in my inside thigh that had to be addressed. It’s like having a big pimple that won’t pop until you repeatedly smack yourself in the face with a board.

I’ve been on blood thinners for two years and I’ve been able to use fear of cutting myself as an excuse to grow a Covid-19 beard. Funny looking back at those hospital pictures and seeing the same type of growth on my chin.

My cardiologist took me off the pills after my semi-annual visit this week, so there may be some razor blade dulling soon.