While the road may appear straight and the destination clear, there are endless possibilities for interruption – a tree limb, a vestige of a truck tire, a distracted driver or a sudden dash of a deer. A routine ride can suddenly become a tragic event. I’ve considered many possible challenges on the road and have worked through strategies to address them. Finding a measure of calm and focus is important and I have developed a sort of fateful acceptance of what I might face on the road and in life.
That fateful acceptance was tested when I walked into the Emergency Room at Mount Nittany Medical Center on Thursday evening.
A few days earlier I had been riding the Vespa on a few errands with a minor detour to enjoy some of the more open areas of the valley. After a long day a ride offers an opportunity to clear away the noise of the day and focus on what’s in front of you, excluding everything that doesn’t matter to the riding task at hand.
Standing in the emergency room I tried to summon that ability to focus on the task at hand and push the anxiety and fear aside for the moment. As succinctly as possible I described the events of the day to the triage nurse that brought me to her. Extreme fatigue in the afternoon, early to bed only to awake to pain in my left arm, nausea, heartburn, and shortness of breath. At home my blood pressure measured 200/105, a marked departure from my usual 120/70.
The solitary nature of riding has been instructive activity and has contributed to the unraveling of personal mysteries and shortcomings. I believe many non-riders think of two-wheeled life as a physical indulgence that’s both ego driven and fraught with danger. And on the surface, I might not disagree. But in a complex, harried world it can provide the mindful rider with a haven for relaxation, introspection and escape from the well-worn grooves of everyday drama.
I think the triage nurse was surprised to see my blood pressure standing at 210/110 and immediately send me to a bed where a technician did an EKG.
Heart function was normal.
Riding under a gathering gray sky is probably my favorite time to be on the road. Knowing the weather is changing and not sure what I’ll have to manage triggers a twinge of excitement as I consider how I might be tested. I’m certain it drives my encounters with winter.
The emergency room doctor questioned me on my medical history and symptoms as she worked to determine what to do with the high blood pressure while a nurse inserted an IV line into my arm and injected an anti-nausea medication that I could taste in seconds. Amazing how fast things move in the body. A minute later the nausea subsided and I realized the heartburn was actually pain.
While the doctor and nurse were in the hall discussing next steps I began to sweat and had trouble breathing. The pain in my arm and chest moved from annoying to something I can only assume was reserved for people who have lived on hot dogs, bacon cheeseburgers and little chocolate donuts.
For the first time in my life I pushed the red button.
Central Pennsylvania’s agricultural landscape is dotted with solitary trees that once served to provide shade for plow horses when farmers stopped for their midday meal. I see them as quiet testaments to life in a world where things change. Not matter how many times I pass this particular tree I almost always stop. I did this past week.
The ER doctor looked at me and asked for another EKG and it minutes it was apparent I was having a heart attack.
Things happen quickly in an ER when someone rings the heart attack bell. The rather mellow two person interaction suddenly swirled into a team of people acting in a precision dance of actions as they readied me for something yet to be determined. One person was shaving my arms and groin while another was placing a nitroglycerin tablet under my tongue. Morphine was pushed through the IV port and a cardiologist was on his way.
The pain got worse as I watched the ceiling lights on my way to the Cardiac Catherization Lab.
Remnants of my arrival at the ER – ports still in my arms in case they need to push drugs into me in a hurry.
The catherization team was outstanding – friendly yet undoubtedly professionally focused in ways I’ll never understand. They were able to convert what could have been frightening into something surprisingly mechanical. At least for me, they kept me focused on what they were doing so I wouldn’t panic with thoughts that I could die. I remember joking with them, thinking it would have been cool to have ridden the Vespa to my heart attack experience because it would have made a better blog post, but mostly thinking I hope they stop the pain.
A catheter was inserted into my wrist where the cardiologist determined my right coronary artery was 100 percent blocked. I remember feeling a sudden departure of the pain and muttering, “The morphine must have kicked in.”. The doctor said we just restored your blood flow.
I’m not sure how long this all took but afterwards they showed me computer images of my artery before and after a drug-eluting stent was inserted. It looked dramatic to me and I felt like a new man save for some wooziness from the morphine.
I’ve been in the ICU for about 36 hours now and feel remarkably better. The cardiologist said I’ll probably feel better than I have in a long time since blood flow has likely been restricted for awhile. And it was good to hear that I could resume life as normal. Well, not quite.
I will certainly be able to do everything physically I did before and they actually expect a little more from me. The doctor stressed I am not fragile. Lifestyle changes are part of the adventure ahead that will affect medication, diet and exercise, two things I’ve fought a losing battle with for decades. Now that I have more concrete proof that I’m not indestructible I’ll have to tap into some of the riding focus to take a little better care of myself.
There is much to be grateful for with access to medical care being one of them. Since I got in quickly there was little damage to my heart and the cardiologist expects I’ll not notice any limitations. Accepting the path ahead is already done as I plan some changes. The devil is in the details though and Kim, our kids and friends will help to move things forward as we embark on another adventure.
And if I understand the cardiologist correctly, I can go for a scooter ride on Monday!
Holy shit, Steve! I’m so thankful that you were so quick to act and that you’re not showing any outward signs in your post of being rattled. Really, as i read it – you sound so admirably calm.
“What? Me worry?” How fitting.
Get better, you!
I suppose I’ve inherited a measure of calmness from my father. When serious stuff happened he was always cool and even. I’m the same way. But when some stupid happens, like spilling milk in the kitchen, I lose my mind.
Go figure.
good to read you’re doing better Steve and that things might feel better for you than before as well!
I look forward to your first posting after you’re cleared to ride, and to see what this event leads to in terms of long range plans!
Lots to look forward to at home, with family and friends, and with riding. Not sure what the future holds but I’m excited by the prospects!
So glad you followed those cues you received. And really glad you are ok.
Vespa ON!!
I’m a lucky guy. Hopefully there won’t be anymore cues anytime soon.
Wow, you got TWO PICC lines!
I was shocked to see this, but am very glad you’re on track for a speedy recovery. I’m especially pleased you’ve been cleared to ride on Monday! I have quite a ways to go before I can go home.
I’m hoping moto bloggers in hospitals does not become a trend. Take care.
Here’s a suggestion: get a nice bicycle and mix in some cycling. You may find a new way to experience the thrill of the road and the world surrounding you. I bet your cardiologist would be on board.
I have a bicycle at home that’s in good shape. Maybe i’ll take it for a spin and see how it feels.
Orin,
The pic lines are the only thing that’s sort right now. Have been doing laps around the hospital and so far things are fine.
The color is back in your face! The last time we met, I thought you looked pale and tired. Now we know why that was.
Yeah, I was slowly going under. Feel much better now though.
Maybe it’s time to lay off of the “hot dogs, bacon cheeseburgers and little chocolate donuts”. Or at least find other breakfast stops…
Good to hear that you’re on the road to recovery and that you still came up with a riveting blog post even though you didn’t ride the Vespa to the ER.
I’ve been eating “healthy” for two days now. Feel good but hungry all the time. Healthy portion size is small. Doing laps around the hospital today I found the only difficulty was passing the vending machines. I feel like Homer Simpson, “mmmmm, Famous Amos cookies…”
Riding the Vespa to the ER would have definitely been a bad idea. I would have had to leave the scooter out in the parking lot. Someone could have stolen it.
Steve! Glad to hear you caught this and recovery looks good. Here’s to a speedy recuperation.
Thanks Alan. Just spoke to the doctor again and it appears tomorrow I’ll go home. Wife, dogs and family are looking forward to my return.
So glad you heeded – and of course survived – your ‘warning’, Steve. Thankfully you’ve retained your clarity of thought and sense of humour and your future looks bright. You have good support, both from Kim and your family and friends and also, a mite less tangibly perhaps, from those of us in cyberspace.
Your most recent blog gave me a nasty shock, my friend. I wish you a speedy and comfortable recovery with many happy and healthy bloggable experiences ahead.
Healing vibes also on the way to Orin.
Safe roads!
Keith
Keith,
Thank you for the kind words of support.
Since this has happened I’ve been thinking of how widespread the warning has been in terms of forcing me to evaluate how I live my life on a day-to-day basis. I won’t say for sure I could have prevented the heart attack since genetics could have intervened regardless, but there are many things I can change that will make things better for me and those I love.
So full speed ahead!
Steve, most of this blog post gave me an increasingly sinking feeling, but then you gave us the final photo and the last few paragraphs…
It sounds like you received some encouraging words: that you’ll probably feel better than you have in a long time, that you’ll certainly be able to do everything physically that you did before, and actually a little more; that you’re not fragile; and–probably most important–that you can go for a scooter ride on Monday!
It is inspiring how you face such alarming situations with calmness, humor, and fluid perspective.
I have two questions for you: Was the MAD magazine a prop obtained especially for that photo; and doesn’t it strike you as odd, counter- something, that hospitals provide space for junk food vending machines?
I wish you a speedy recovery and a quick return to the activities that give your life meaning.
Ry,
Reading your description of the direction the post was taking made me think of the TV show “Fishing with John” by John Lurie. There is an episode where Lurie and Wilem Dafoe are ice fishing in very cold winter and things continue to get worse and worse. At the end they both freeze to death. I didn’t want to go that direction with my post!
The Mad Magazine was just available — my daughter dropped it off for me to read. I wanted to post a picture of myself in the ICU and I saw it sitting there and thought it would be appropriate to the craziness.
Hospitals are businesses and want to cater to customers who aren’t patients. There’s good food choices but who wants that when you can have a Snickers Bar? I always get confused when I think about what might be good for someone versus having the freedom to choose. At the end of the day we each have to make our own choices.
Wishing you a speedy recovery, Steve! I look forward to riding with you this summer.
Jason
Thanks Jason. Same here.
I’m very glad you went to the hospital. So many people don’t.
Hope to see you at the Moto Hang soon. Just maybe skip the hot dogs.
I thought the hot dogs were the only reason people came to Moto Hang!!??
Glad you were able to blog this, hope you don’t miss pizza too much.
Don’t even say pizza. When I think of the things I’ll miss pizza is high on the list. Perhaps my future blog posts will be nothing more than me complaining about food…
My first thought was “so that is what his face looks like,”given all the images of you have had your head in a helmet. The Mad magazine though is ihdicative of many things. You are alive
and functioning (hospital gowns though are such a pain, no privacy), and this means you shall be with us for some time, yet. Here in Canada, you more than likely would not have survived; socialized medicine has its drawbacks.
Most hospitals don;t have the equipment for what you experienced.
So one artery was blocked; how about the other arteries; their status? Here you would have had a stent at the very least or perhaps full bypass surgery. And that would have taken place some weeks after the event. Heart blockages removed will help improve your other maladies. Sort of surprised your ow personal physician had not suggested a stress test earlier given your age and other factors.
Two pic lines; with my Celu;;itus attack in June 2011 which was far worse than my eight hour cancer surgery in 2007 and three following years of chemo. Had two different pic lines for eight weeks. One each in the upper arms. Handy devices, when they don’t get plugged. As one result of those pic lines am on Pradaxa blood thinners for the rest of my life. And the problems of the Celulitus destroyed my ability to walk upright and my balance. No more motorcycling; walking with a cane on the good days, a four wheel walker on the bad days.
Steve, your wife has a healthy husband, you can now see your grand-daughter for much longer; your two dogs will be over joyed to see you and we who read your column will know you sir, will be around for many years!
I am fortunate that I live so close to a high end medical facility. I think about Kim and I considering a move to a place along the Bay of Fundy some years back that would have had us an hour away from a hospital in good conditions. I may not have died but my heart would have been severely damaged.
You know the challenge of medical adventures well — mine pale in comparison. For me, it seems like a cosmic question — “What are you going to do now son?” That’s the next step for me.
I’ll see my primary care doctor next week and ask the question but I suspect I’ve been so “healthy” for so long that there were no indications. Who knows.
Take care of yourself Bryce!
Steve, thank God you were calm enough to get to the hospital! Will be praying for a speedy recovery.
Thanks Nancy. Kim put her foot down and kicked me to the hospital!
Mr cool planned to drive himself to the hospital. No way was that going to happen. We called neighbors we’ve known for a long time–the kind of friends you can trust whether it’s a lost hound dog on Little Flat or an ER visit in the late hours. Richard suspected something was up and drove as fast as he could without careening off the road and landing both of them in a cow pie. Phyllis followed with me after Steve stopped texting me and a hospital employee called to say he was having a heart attack. (I’m not driving these days. Thank God for the Kipps) Steve left the house looking gray. The next time i saw him–being wheeled from the cath operating room–he was rosy-cheeked and had a ÷%+×-eating grin. I can’t describe yet–maybe never will–how blessed I felt to see that sweet smiling head.
The Kipps have stepped up many times and we are blessed to have them as friends. Can’t imagine what it would be like to get that call from the hospital. Glad it didn’t take too long for you to see my rosy, smiling face.
I love you Kimmie.
Oh my, Steve. All the classic symptoms… Glad to hear you had quick access to medical care, and are getting well again. Wishing you a speedy recovery in order to get back on that Vespa of yours.
Thanks Sonja for the kind words of support. My grandfather had a heart attack in 1960 or so and was treated in a Munchen hospital. He was 60 years old and lived another 37 years. Drove his car through the Alps until he was in his 90s. Maybe I’ll luck out and get some of his genetics.
I remember him as a walker. When I would visit he and I would walk in the early morning from his cottage down the hill into town to get fresh bread and supplies for the day’s meal. It was a three or four mile round trip. Maybe that helped with his longevity.
Wow, scary wake-up call… got one of these myself a few months ago, spent 5 days in the stroke unit, and kinda figured out that something was wrong as I was the odd one out at 40 between all the 70-80 year olds.
Riding my Vespa has had a therapeutic effect since then… leaving the helmet with the bluetooth headset at home in favour of a more open model and disconnecting from it all, just focusing on the sights, sounds and smells is my own little way to refocus and find the new priorities in life. In many ways, finding and keeping the new balance in life is like balancing the scooter on the road, and mastering it requires time, effort and patience.
I sincerely hope you find it, keep it and continue producing quality stuff online… if that is part of your balance anyway 🙂
Steven,
I think your reflections on the way a scooter ride can help refocus priorities and help keep them in place are instructive to anyone looking to change. Abandoning a bluetooth mike in your ear would help move your focus to a different place.
Thanks for your support and encouragement. I hope to continue to move ahead with recovery.
Jesus Christ Steven. Glad you made it. Hoping retirement is one of the changes you’re thinking about!
Well, it has crossed my mind once or twice. I’ll have to see how things go with my recovery. There’s probably an exercise bike in my future.
Mr. Steve ~ It is good to hear everything will be okay. I was beginning to wonder if something had happened, as we hadn’t heard anything blog-wise in a while. Your testimony gives others, such as myself in our age bracket, time to think and reflect on the remaining years of our life. Riding my scoot is indeed, a time to reflect and leave all other matters behind – for a short time, at least. I am in Tennessee right now, shortly to return to Florida on my scooter, after having ridden The Tail of the Dragon. I will have much time to …ponder. Thanks for the wake-up call and scooter on!
Aging has been an interesting topic for some time. Not just the for the physical reasons but particularly what makes some people “seem” old while others seem to stay young for a long, long time. Thoughts, beliefs, expectations — they all can be seduced by aging. I suspect it will leak into my blog posts.
Sounds like you’re having a fine time riding. Wouldn’t mind making the trip south to the Dragon sometime myself. There’s a lot of fine landscape to traverse between here and there.
Absolutely ~ but in the end it was far more hype than reality. One needs watch out for the suicidal maniacs on both two & four wheels. Other than that, he’s, beauty surrounds you and it is almost ethereal. As much of your blogs as I have read I feel you would enjoy it at your own speed – as did I. Heal well my friend!
Steve, I’m so glad you are feeling better. I have a similar story. That feeling of getting the full dose of O2 again is great! Hope you stop by MotoHang this Wednesday. John
Unless something happens I should be able to make it to Moto Hang. Look forward to talking to you about your experience. The extra O2 is nice!
Oftentimes when seeing a solitary tree in the middle of the field, I’ll reflect on how life for our ancestors was a little slower, but a little harsher. The treatment for a heart attack back in those times was prayer.
As you recall, I had my own experience with The Big One. The Doc later said if it was 20 years earlier, they would have had to open me up. Instead it was a stent, 5 days in ICU and then back on the street. And now really smart people are working on using stem cells to regrow damaged heart tissue. Imagine how doctors will treat our grandchildren in their later years.
And so we get to live, but at the expense of eating lunch under the tree with our horses.
Life has a lot of speeds but finding the slower ones is a challenge sometimes. I’ll have to do some searching.
The doctors said I’ll be back on the street shortly. Maybe I’ll try and find a tree to have lunch under every now and then.
Steve –
Glad to hear you are still alive and kicking! So, are you allowed to have chocolate these days? I seem to recall chocolate was near and dear to your heart in the days of old. It is good to see that you will be around a while to watch your beautiful granddaughter grow.
Jake
Hey Jake. Still here and breathing. The outlook is bright if I take care of myself.
As far as chocolate goes, I won’t be able to consume it in the quantities I have in the past. It will become one of those occasional indulgences if at all. We’ll see.
I am looking forward to being around to see my granddaughter grow up — especially when she’s old enough to learn to ride a Vespa. They’ll probably be hydrogen powered by then!
First off, let me say that I wish you all the best and most of all an enjoyable ride on Monday!
I was not yet 14 when my 50-yr. old mother had a heart attack at the local public pool we were at the time. I could not get a hold of my dad who was out of town on business, my 10-yr. old sister was home alone. Being at the hospital with my mom all by myself, with her drifting in an out of consciousness while we were waiting for the ER doctors (times were different back in the 70s) has remained one of the most traumatic experiences of my life.
But – after 5 weeks in the hospital, 1 week of those in the ICU, followed by 6 weeks of in-patient rehab, she will be celebrating her 92-nd birthday in July. She is still living independently and while she finally gave up driving shortly before turning 91, she is very much enjoying her life.
My theory is that keeping a positive outlook and a neverending curiosity for life to see what is around the next corner has kept her living such a long and good life. While not without several and at times serious health challenges, this zest for and interest in life has never diminished.
In this sense I wish you many, many future Vespa rides!
Thank you Melu for sharing your story. When thoughts turn toward darker futures it’s nice to know that there paths with bright possibilities. I agree with you that a positive outlook and neverending curiosity are positive steps to a better life.
I see a long road ahead!
Steve, I must’ve seen you right before this happened. I’m so glad you got yourself straight to the hospital promptly — that’s the place to have a heart attack, if one must have one! I hope your recovery is both quick and lasting.
I think you saw me the day before it happened but I was already feeling tired, something I attributed to my recent bout with pneumonia. Looks as if there was more going on.
Full speed ahead with recovery!
Hi, Steve,
Very shocked to hear of your heart attack…not completely unexpected though from your descriptions of work and other pressures. Very glad to hear of the positive prognosis and wish you all the best scooter rides in the future.
I especially enjoyed (?) your mixing in the typical thoughts of a scooter rider out on a normal time with the frightening descriptions of what was happening medically…very nice…and insightful!
Take good care, Steve.
Karl U
Hello Karl. Thanks for your well wishes for recovery. I appreciate them.
Over the couple weeks with the help of friends and medical people I’ll have to take a hard look in the mirror and see what the future holds. Dealing with stress is high on the list.
Glad you liked the writing. When I was sitting in the ICU I wasn’t sure how or if I should share the news of the heart attack. I’ve been pretty open in general about my life on Scooter in the Sticks so I figured it was fair game. When this blog started years ago I saw it as kind of a hungry beast that would force me to practice my writing skills. This post grew out of some random thoughts about riding and how they seemed to connect with the challenge at hand.
Wishes of a speedy recovery and many more Monday rides in the future!
Thanks Ricardo. I’m hoping for many more rides — Monday or otherwise in the future!
Steve I was quite concerned when I learned you were in ICU, I was shocked when I read of your heart attack. Then thrilled with how quickly the hospital managed to turn that potentially deadly situation completely around.
Finally, let me chime in with others here and give you kudos on a remarkable blog post. I am always humbled by the way you work your craft. Every time I think I’ve learned a thing or two, you remain like a beacon on the horizon.
I look forward to following you along for a long time to come.
Best wishes to you and Kim, and your four-legged family too.
I was quite fortunate to be where I was when the heart attack occurred. Had it happened out in the sticks the outcome would have been different. I’ll need to spend some time thinking about how to pay attention to my body better. At least that’s what’s turning in my head at the moment. The doctor told me I won’t be fragile and can live life pretty much normally but I don’t know what that means right now.
As far as writing goes — it’s a creative puzzle that I enjoy. This particular post took more time than most, in part because I was tired and distracted, and because I wanted to use the pictures I had just shot. Mixing the Vespa into life can be a challenge at times.
Thanks for your support David. It’s nice to know people care.
Just want to say that I’m glad you were astute enough to get yourself to the ER when you needed to do so, glad that your future looks bright, and also glad to be able to wish you a full and speedy recovery. These things force us to look at stuff we usually take for granted, and maybe appreciate the “small” things of life far more than we previously did. Anyway, get back on that Vespa and put a lot more miles on it! Get well soon!
Good points Maestro about appreciating the small things. I have plenty to appreciate!
I really want to go for a Vespa ride but I need to be smart about when. We’ll see what tomorrow brings!
Wow. All too often we guys let the testosterone get the better of us and we shrug it off. You didn’t and it seems like it was just in time. Here’s to a speedy recovery – you’ll be back at it in no time – and thanks for posting this, we all need a reminder to listen to our bodies on occasion.
Canajun,
Maybe riding a scooter has some effective way of reducing testosterone! There are a lot of motorcycle riders who would agree with that theory….*grin*
Seriously though, fortune has smiled on me. I’ll do my best to pay attention and make the most of it.
Steve – I am glad you are feeling well enough to let your sense of humor shine through and glad you were able to share your experience. Take care. My thoughts are with you. (Good for Kim for kicking your butt to the ER.)
Kim underestimates her power in my life. I pay a lot more attention to her than she thinks because of the natural need to not let your wife know she’s almost always smarter than you are.
I appreciate your thoughts!
Hi Steve,
You never know what’s coming…..Glad you got yourself to the right place at the right time…So many people are bothered by fussing and rest up and hope things sort there self out, well they don’t.
My mother was feeling tired And worse for wear…..stressed out and generally run down feeling crap, she chose not to worry people and it was bad very bad , I got up to do my morning paperound and found her on the sofa/settee.
She never made it to bed.
Died of an heart attack at only 45!!!
I was 15 this was bad times for sure.
Glad your well and even more glad you hit the button !!!
Regards
Len
Sorry to hear what happened to your mom Len. That would be tough at 15.
Surrendering yourself to the medical world is scary — no one wants to hear bad news and it’s easy to pretend things will, as you say, sort themselves out. I’m glad in this case I didn’t do that. Otherwise the outcome would have possibly been different.
Thanks for sharing.
Glad to hear you are okey, and getting well. Wishing you a speedy recovery and a great Vespa summer. I’m really enjoying your blog (loving is more correct?!) , it’s so inspiring. VESPAMORE Steve!
/Patric
Finland
My plans include a lot more Vespa riding, photography and writing. Thanks for your well wishes!
Damn, I hope you feel better buddy.
Feeling better than I have in a long, long time.
“Live every day as though it were your last, for one day you are sure to be right.” It becomes easier after a crisis, what could have been. This will give you an edge. Good luck.
Thanks Conchscooter. I hope I can hold onto what ever lessons are in front of me right now. Finding an edge would be a gift!
Hi Steve, I ride a little red Honda Metro and the way you write describes how I feel when I’m riding. So glad you’ll be able to keep riding and writing. Love to you and your lovely family.
Annie in California
A Vespa or a Honda Metro — accessing the gifts of a ride are one of the more enjoyable things in life!
Hi Steve,
From the number of well wishers I can see that your blog is very popular. I too wish to send my good wishes and thank you for sharing your experience with us. It has sounded timely warning bells to some.
Two days ago I had my warning needing to go to Brisbane for a cryo-ablation procedure to stop a dangerous heart arrhythmia. So far so good!
Look after yourself and most of all consider winding back on your workload. Someone has already mentioned the important role of stress in aggravating coronary events.
Best wishes
Mike
Mike,
Glad to hear your medical adventures are continuing on a positive path. As I ride again on the Vespa I’ll definitely be thinking about changes.
Wow!!! Timing is everything,,,,, Glad you are back and feeling better. You don’t want to miss out on that beautiful little one.
Lori,
It was especially good timing. Feeling better already but more recovery and changes ahead. I definitely don’t want to miss out on my granddaughter. If I wasn’t around who would show her how to ride a scooter!
Changes can be good for you. But now you have to take care of yourself and enjoy the family every chance you get. There is nothing like being a grandparent. Before long someone will be wanting to go for a ride on Grandpa’s scooter. You wont be able to say no. Even if you are just pushing her around on the scooter in grass.
Fine thoughts Lori. Lot’s of granddaughter adventures ahead I hope. On an unrelated note — I hope to ride to Ohio sometime to visit.
Sounds great, will be happy to see ya.
Holy Buckets! I flagged your most recent post to be read later and come back a day later to find that you’ve been in the ICU. I’m really happy to hear that you got to the ER in time and that you’re doing well. I agree with other posts…timing is everything; and you’re a grandfather at the same time…timing really is everything…
Being off work now I have a little time to write. So the posts are coming faster than normal! I am doing well and am more aware than ever about time.
Steve!
I just read this and hope that you are stable, VERTICAL! and riding.
cheers
Frank
Frank,
Stable, feeling well and vertical. The only restrictions to riding are self-imposed due to work and other responsibilities. But I see many more miles ahead.
Please take care of your heart! My dear sweetheart had a massive heart attack (August 2010) in the hospital cafeteria where he was Head of the Respiratory Dept. He was surrounded by his friends and they took immediate lifesaving actions…he survived it but he just couldn’t undo decades of bad habits. He passed away peacefully in his sleep in September 2015, one day before his 58th birthday. I still feel lost without him…yet I go on.
Please live your life as you please but remember someone may be lost without you there.
Sorry to hear of your loss Melody. I appreciate the magnitude of the loss. And it fuels my attention to how I live. Like the shredded wheat and blueberries I eat now instead of the bacon, egg and cheese breakfast at McDonalds that was so common before my heart attack. There’s no way to know for sure if my diet and lifestyle was responsible, but like riding, I manage what I can to be safe.
That you for sharing your thoughts here. I do appreciate them.