Crossroads

There is a Philip K. Dick story about a man who wakes to find that terrorists placed a bomb in his chest. At any moment he could explode.

A month and a half ago I was ok. I was healthy. Plans for the summer were being made. There was a vacation with my wife to Lake Cumberland in May. We were going to rent a houseboat for a week. This year’s Spring Fishing Trip with my buddies was going to be up at the Pere Marquette River in Michigan. It was time to pull the old Glassmaster boat out of the garage and get it ready for walleye fishing on the Detroit River. The garden needed tilling.

But I wasn’t healthy. I wasn’t ok. I was inching closer and closer to a massive coronary heart attack and didn’t even know it. I was on the way to being one of those people you hear about: “He seemed perfectly healthy then one day, boom, heart attack, at such a young age.”

Back to the bomb in my chest. Damn Terrorists. I’m more conscious about my heart beat. I can FEEL it beating now more than ever. Right now I have a 50% chance of having a heart attack in the next two years.

When my cardiologist told me it wasn’t a good idea to go fishing and to put a limit on what I do, it finally hit home. No Fishing Trip. No vacation with my wife. No getting the boat ready. No gardening. No exercising. No excessive climbing of stairs. No heavy lifting, no stress etc, etc, etc…And this is just BEFORE my operation.

Although something is different, I’m still the same person. But I have different plans now to deal with.

I’d hate to put the pressure on my wife and my friends, having something happen to me in the middle of the woods, with little cell phone coverage, more than 30 minutes away from any major health facility. So, on the advice of my doctor, I’m going to put off many of my plans.

A little inconvience now ensures that I have many more chances to enjoy vacations with my wife and family, fishing trips with my friends, and many more chances to see my garden in bloom.


I don't want this blog to be a Whoa is me Blog. I just wanted to get this out there. But I promise to keep you updated as things progress. And should you be going through the same thing, drop me a line...I'd love to hear your story.

Especially if you really DO have a bomb in your chest.

Since I can't go fishing, I guess I'll try frying some bigger fish.

Next Time: Team Kilpatrick’s Ministry of Truth, or Yo! Big Bro Got the Peeps on You!