5 February 2008, 6:30 am.  I wake up with a tight feeling in my chest and a numb left arm.  After a couple hours of denial I call my older son, Spence.  He is teaching a class and can't answer.  I then see that my other son, Skip, is up on the instant messenger.  I tell him my symptoms and he tells me, in no uncertain terms "CALL 911 NOW."  I do so, change my underwear (we all had mothers), unlock the front door anad await the arrival of the EMTs

Soon I am surrounded by a bunch of ernest young men who attach all sorts of wires to me, start a saline drip, put  me on a gurney into tbeir vehicle and soon I am on the way down I-40 to Presbyterian Hospital in Albuquerque.  The EMTs are feeding me nitroglycerin.  Did you know that they can't give you nitro if you are using Viagra? Not a problem for me.

I get to the hospital and they run me into the cath lab to see what is going on.  Three of the 4 main heart arteries are 100% blocked.   They put stents in two of them.  They decided to save the 3rd for later.

By now Spence is there and understands the strange language  spoken by medical professionals.  Oh, BTW,  they discover that I am a type II diabetic.  Oh joy.

After a week in the hospital they decide to release me,   My children, by now my daughters-in-law have brought their not inconsiderable skills to bear, recommend that I go into a rehab facility before going home.  I agreed with them.  If iti is good enough for Brittany  it is good enough for me.

This place has a cast of characters that would have made a good Mel Brooks film.  There are OTs, PTs and SPTs,  (Occupational Terrorists, Physical Terrorists and Speech Terrorists) all of whom are graduates of Torquemada U.  Then there is Drakula whi comes by at strange hours to bleed me from the fingers.  Trying to get all my blood one drop at a time.  Finally there is Ishmael who comes by 3 time a day to harpoon my poor, shrinking belly.  (I am now down to 240#).

To top things off they decide that I have Hemochromatosis which is a fancy word for too much iron in the blood.  This is bad because it deposits the iron in the brain which is not a good thing.  Fortunately it is treatable.

They finally allowed me to go home if I swore on a stack if insurance forms to behave.  I now stick my own fingers 4 times a day, harpoon my belly 3 times a day, swallow a cocktail of 8 pills every morning abd 2 more at night and have bot had, or wanted, a cigarette for 18 weeks.  The anti-smoking med is the only NOT covered by the insurance.

To those of you who called me in the hospital or sent snail mail, it was greatly appreciated.

I have been blessed  (by whom I don't know) with many good friends and a wonderful family..