Most people survive their first M.I., if they’re not too old. Chances slim out a bit as old age sneaks in. I listened close whenever I thought I could overhear the health care people talk of my condition in the hospital. Or at least when I thought they were talking about me. “His recovery has been good so far. Glad he’s not real old.” “Well it says here he was born in 1935, how old is that?” “Uh oh,” said the other voice in the next room. I was thinking, “Oh indeed.” But anyway, I survived yet another visit to the VA and while I enjoy complaining a lot, I have to pause and say the care up there was very adequate and the care giving was great.

The VA has been looking after my health for many years. Fourteen years ago they transplanted 4 bypasses in my heart and the bypasses served me well. But they are history now, so my heart doctor says. New bypasses in my future? Or more stints? I don’t know but I will be finding out in a few days. Any way it goes is a serious decision. Makes one wish he had paid more attention to his cardiac diet and physician’s instructions over the years which reminds me of bacon. Sorry.

One of my caregivers called me last week. She wanted to know how I was doing and what was I doing to cope with my heart attack. After we chatted about food and exercise a few minutes she asked me “What did you do when you first noticed you were having a heart attack.” I told her I drove my pickup home and went in the house. “When did you call 911?” “I didn’t,” I replied. “I called my wife.” “Was she out of the house?” I said, “yes, she was off watching a girl’s softball game.” “You didn’t call 911?” “Uh, no,” I replied. “I called my wife.” “Well, what did she do?” She came in and checked on me and told me we were going to the hospital. “She called 911 then?” “No, I told my son-in-law to take me, and he did.” “You could have been dead by then,” she said with what I felt was with relish.

“Next time just call 911,” she plead. I told her I would if I wasn’t in too big a hurry to get somewhere. Anyway, Dr. Costner got me to Holdenville real quick. Then an ambulance drove me on to the hospital in Oklahoma City. Not giving up, she repeated, “Always dial 911.” Trying to hold my ground I replied, “Next time?” “Yes,” she replied, “every time. OK?”

I replied with a weary OK but had a strong bit of “maybe” in my heart. The concerned nurse on the line then went into a litany of orders which included me contacting a physical rehabilitation person. I lied and told her that I would sure get on that first chance I had as I pictured the lady (in my mind) who does that rehab up there and didn’t like what I saw. My caring but uninvited caller then admonished me not to forget to make an appointment with a sleep specialist up there. Somewhere. I told her not to worry, I was on it.

I had a long-standing dental appointment last Friday. Yes, up at the Veterans. Also needed a flu shot and to get my glasses adjusted. Did OK on everything but the dental. I think she was afraid she might be treating a dying horse as she told me to come back in a few months when I was over my heart attack. Too much risk, she volunteered. Her words made me rather refl ective about my future. Well, they have dental people in heaven, I suppose. If needed. But somehow I can’t see me folding my wings into a dental chair in heaven. Just sayin’.

Went to church Sunday. Everything was still operational in the Cemetery Class. Good group. Donny Johnson was there and in good voice. It was good to see everyone and I urge each of you to be sure and attend your church next Sunday. You’ll get a better life prognosis there than from my nurse.

Wayne Bullard, DPh

waynebullard@sbcglobal.net