As it knocked on the front door, I escaped out the back window.

It never got the chance to take me away. I will get to spend more time exploring, writing, and moving around without a walker. 

I will need to change some habits to avoid another trip to an operating room in the future.

I spent a lifetime filled with bad eating habits.

I had no interest in eating a lot of no-fat, no-sugar, no-fun food that tasted like green lettuce.

When I was younger, my body could burn tons of incoming fat before it clogged my arteries.

Fried Chicken, Ice Cream, and French Fries Were Fun Foods To Eat.

When my fat-burning days ended, I kept eating fat-filled foods. My heart was happy to store that fat plaque. It liked being a pack rat storing useless plaque.

Then the day of reckoning arrived.

Nature sent signals. “YOU’s IN TROUBLE ~ Get thee to the hospital on the double.”

Lucky for me, I listened; I went to the emergency room, and I didn't hope the signals would go away.

At the hospital, they found two blocked arteries in my heart. One was 99 percent blocked, and the other was 80 percent blocked.

The Doctor fixed the problem.

He and his team inserted two stents, and I went home to rest and reflect on my lifetime of stupidity.

They encouraged me to stop all caffeinated beverages and to limit high-fat foods, like potato chips and ice cream.

I learned that if I wanted to avoid a repeat of what I went through, they would see me again in the future to insert another stent.

I thought to myself, "No problamo waymo, I'll straighten up and fly right. 

Looking on the bright side.

I now have another story to tell, which you can find below this introduction.

It starts with me deciding to be driven to urgent care and everything that happened until I was released from the hospital.

Tap the next blue title:

A Silent Heart Attack

A personal story :
This story is about my sojourn during a heart attack on the 12th of September, 2026.

I AM A WRITER ~ ~ ~ I AM NOT A MEDICALLY TRAINED DOCTOR.
I am an observer ~ ~ ~ I am not medically trained.

My experience can not be used as a guide for your personal health care. Your primary care physician knows you best and can keep you healthy, with your cooperation.

Right Now :
As I write this, my heart is working.

I am following my health care team’s directions to improve my heart health. The future looks bright, but complications may still arise later, depending on many factors.

I have a lot of work ahead of me, and here is what I have observed during my heart attack experience.

During the attack :
I felt older than the 80 years I am now.

After the operation :
I started feeling younger and smarter.

Are You Smarter? :
“You little dummy.”

My mom said it when I did stupid things. I felt real grown up when she started using “You big dummy!”

I didn’t always listen to Mom’s advice after leaving her kitchen. Like the importance of eating healthy.

Gimme Hamburgers and French Fries. :
I called that healthy eating when I was young and dumb.

I have a vivid imagination. I had convinced myself that I was an exception to the rule.

I was not :
This experience has taught me that if I follow the rules of eating badly, like eating tons of ice cream and mountains of potato chips, the rule of a heart attack will come and pay a visit. It will leave me with a bill to pay.

And the bill came! :
On Friday morning, September, 12, 2026, I woke up and stood up.

I walked a few steps and felt pressure above my elbows in the back of my arms, the kind I had when I worked out with weights to build my triceps.

My chest felt like I’d just finished a long race. My calves had stiff knots in the muscles, my thighs were tired, and I noticed a few seconds of soreness on both sides of my jaw.

I had a sharp headache.

Wait, Real Alarm Bells! :
This was a first-time experience, and the bells did not ring loudly. I imagined it was nothing to worry about.

Dummy Me! :
A heart attack? ~ No way! ~ I’m as fit as a fiddle!

I did not know then that I had an unstable string known as a LAD artery that was out of tune and 99 percent blocked, and another that was 80 percent blocked.

Warned Again! :
I took a two-hour nap and woke up at 4:00 pm. The bells started ringing louder and more intensely; it was time to act.

Urgent Care! :
Rosalinda drove me to an urgent care center close to our home. It seemed like a good idea then. :

A TERRIBLE IDEA! :
Next time, I’m calling 911. I’m going first class in an ambulance, not in a car, economy class.

Urgent care did routine tests and sent me to the nearest hospital. The first hospital did more tests. They started preparing me for transfer to a second hospital via ambulance.

Next Day :
Saturday morning around 1:00 am, I arrived at the bigger hospital on September 13. I am glad it wasn’t Friday the 13th.

I felt like a VIP :
They followed the same steps as the first hospital. More tests and more questions that seemed to repeat every two hours.

My Answers :
I don’t have shortness of breath, but every so often I need to take a big deep breath.

I don’t have any stomach pain.
(In the past, I have had pain in my brain because my stomach looks like a pot belly stove.)

The person taking notes didn’t crack a smile and moved to the next question, and I answered with clarity.

Yes, I do feel pain in the middle of my chest, like a bad case of heartburn.

Yes, I have pain in my upper back.

No. I don’t have stomach pain.

Decision :
The hospital decided to keep me and put me in a room on the 3rd floor. Time passed slowly, and I wasn’t hungry, nor worried.

It seemed like every two hours, they checked my blood pressure and took more blood samples. They watched my sugar levels.

I later learned the hospital tests showed my troponin values rising. It is a protein found inside heart muscle cells. It shows up in blood tests when the heart muscle starts dying.

Zero troponin levels may indicate little or no problems.

When troponin is rising, trouble is coming around the mountain.

Saturday Morning :
It is now 10:00 am, and I am in the operating room.

The clock on the wall saw it all. I am lying under a white sheet. I looked at the clock while I lay on the operating table.

I am thinking, “That was quick. There is no turning back now.”

The room was white, with a tall ceiling that I scanned. I was patiently waiting for what would happen next.

PATIENT?
Its Latin origin does mean suffering.

I just remembered :
In Britain, an operating room is called an operating theatre, or simply theatre. In my eyes, I was the star attraction during this theatrical scene.

But wait!
The doctor would determine this scene’s success. I am a stage extra who will be paying the bill.

Show time :
Before the doctor started, he leaned over and explained once more the steps needed to implant two stents in two different arteries inside my heart. When I heard them the first time, I was as calm as a cucumber.

Step one :
The doctor said, “I will insert a catheter through an artery in your right or left wrist.”

Step two :
“If I encounter problems, I will use the right or left groin.”

Step three :
“If I encounter problems, I will open your chest to insert the stents.”

OH BOY! :
The third choice did not register when I first heard it, before coming into the operating room.

Hearing it this time, I started worrying.

I knew that I should have pulled all the weeds last Thursday. That is the first thing I will do when I get back home, if step one is successful.

Conscious Sedation :
I was under local anesthesia that kept my body still and my eyes and ears fully functioning.

My eyes saw A giant white room with a big screen TV to my left, and I sensed that the doctor was close by.

My ears heard Letters and numbers spoken by the doctor, with someone else responding with the same letters and numbers.

The doctor would speak, “I need ABC123.” A voice would respond, “ABC123.”

Next, I heard the doctor describe the steps he was taking.

11:00 am :
The doctor had finished.

I felt relaxed and happy, like a lark singing and soaring up into the blue yonder, then floating back down again.

I had two brand-new stents, and I was ready to roll off the table and onto the gurney heading for the recovery room.

Wait! I did not roll. I slid sideways, very slowly, while keeping my right arm straight and immobile where the catheter had been inserted.

Recovery :
While in the recovery room, I could see the doctor through the door in the distance, typing notes in the log file.

REALLY? :
NO!

I couldn’t see his screen. But I was sure he was not tapping the like button for his favorite influencer.

For two more hours, two nurses watched me carefully. The curtain came down on this scene as everyone prepared for the next act.

Road Trip :
The curtains rose as they returned me to my room for more observation.

The trip was short, with plenty of time for my imagination to jump for joy.

Rolling down the hallway, I felt the breeze sailing past my face.

I imagined a story of traveling down a long tunnel, and the light I saw was an opening for another story and a second chance to change my ways.

On the other hand, how would I react if the end of the tunnel had a light bulb attached to a brick wall, with no way out?

I deleted that sentence quickly.

My imagination focused on the breeze passing over my face, and I felt at peace.

FINALLY :
The play ended in the best possible way, and I am here to stay for the remainder of my time.

And for those weeds in the backyard that I forgot to pull last Thursday?

They need a second chance to experience a full life, like the second chance I just got.

Last Conversation :
The doctor came for a final visit before I was discharged. If I understood him correctly, this is what I learned.

The second replacement pacemaker I had installed 2 years earlier kept me from feeling more intense pain until the heart could stand no more.

My heart started screaming at me, using louder alarm bells that got my attention.

Pacemaker? :
I’ve had a pacemaker for eleven years to correct an electrical problem. My heart would slow to as low as 33 beats per minute while I slept.

Before the pacemaker was installed, I would have dreams of drowning and wake up gasping for air.

After it was installed, the drowning dreams were gone.

Dreams :
Before my heart attack, I had few dreams that I could remember, and when I did, they were mostly of people breaking into our home. I yelled at them and tried to scare them away.

Rosalinda would hear me moaning and push my shoulder to wake me up.

I have had calm dreams since the stent implants.

When we were little, my brother and I would talk about our dreams at the breakfast table. We remembered every detail, including colors.

Now the details get fuzzy within an hour of waking up.

Bright Future :
When I hear someone complain about the lazy youth of today, they haven’t met anyone who works long hours in hospitals to make sure I made it.

I am not the only one. I know they provide the same level of care to every patient.

YES! :
They may be an exception to the norm, but they show up for their shifts to help patients and forge paths for others to follow.

Last observation :
In 1956, I was ten years old.

It seemed like all my friends went to the hospital to get their tonsils removed. I wanted to go because they told me about the ice cream they got to eat.

70 years have passed, and when I showed up at the hospital to get a stent installed, I didn’t get served ice cream.

September 18th :
Friday, I kept the follow-up appointment with my Primary Care Physician, and Rosalinda joined us.

At the end of our visit, I told my Doctor the ice cream story. He smiled cautiously and asked, “Are you going to have a big bowl of ice cream to celebrate?”

“No, No. If I tried that, I am sure that I would get a lecture before taking the first bite.”

The Doctor and Rosalinda smiled.

Will Things Change? :
You can bet your last Bitcoin on that.

Before, I would sit for long stretches at my desk with my eyes glued to my screen and my nose attached to it like a Post-it note, writing stories.

Now I will get up from my chair hourly, stand a little, and walk around a little.

If I forget, I’ll hear a familiar voice, “How long have you been sitting?”

OK NOW! :
If you have an extra moment, take a peek at the website I made for my family and friends. You will like the clean design.

I gaaare on teeeeee it! :
[ translation: “I guarantee it!” ]

An odd stranger with a secret to tell approached me. He told me a secret that sounded like one you might see on The Twilight Zone.

I was waiting to board a plane at LAX. I was leaving on a jet plane bound for home.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed an elderly gentleman in the waiting area. 

He was wearing a Hamburg-style hat and a heavy overcoat. He clutched a book in his left hand and carried a briefcase in his right. His eyes looked larger than normal behind thick, black-rimmed glasses. He reminded me of a bug-eyed mad scientist in a 1950s black-and-white movie.

He approached and said, “You look very smart in your uniform, young man.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He leaned a little too close and whispered, “I have a top-secret to pass along.”

I stood up straight and put on a serious face. As he talked, I nodded slowly to acknowledge the secret he was sharing.

He looked me in the eye and spoke, “Listen closely, young man. Evil Aliens have come to Earth to help Communist countries bury freedom-loving America.”

I raised my left eyebrow in disbelief. He sensed that I was not on board with what he was sharing.

“Don’t worry. Freedom-loving aliens have come to help us. Their weapons are better than the dirty Commies' and we will easily win a nuclear war.”

I nodded gently in his direction.

Within earshot, a short lady stood nearby. She was wearing a forest green overcoat. She had a matching Black Forest-style hat with a leather twisted rope in place of a hatband. Planted in the leather rope was a long pheasant feather that pointed backward. Her hair was cut short, with dark grey strands mixed with black.

As the old man continued talking, I could see her eyes squinting and staring intently, as if she were trying to solve a puzzle.

The old man told me, “I can tell by the look on your face that you believe me.” I nodded slightly and didn’t say a word.

He looked at the lady watching us nearby and asked, “You believe me, don’t you?”

She jutted out her chin, and her eyes did not move. She blurted out with an accent, ‘YOU ARE NUTS. Don’t talk to me, Dummkopf.

He turned and walked away. I stood there silently.

I heard the announcement to board the plane. As I picked up my bag, I flashed the lady a smile. She smiled back and said in a firm accent, “Be careful, junger mann.”

I gave a quick nod and said, “Yes, Ma’am.” I brought my hand up to my hat and gave a respectful salute. I turned and headed for the line at the departure gate. 

While waiting, I started thinking, “Was that old man pulling my leg? It sure feels a little longer.”

I can still see that moment in my mind’s eye, as if it happened last week.

My close encounter with that old man remains a strong memory. Now it is my turn to be an old man, three days shy of my 80th birthday, at the time of writing this story. I am one of the lucky ones whose memory has not faded into the recesses of a distant mind.

It is easy for me to stop and listen to a stranger willing to share a moment of their life, who enjoys passing along a story.

During my travels, I have heard many a story. A few have become seeds that grew, like this one I am publishing today.

Aliens and UFOs are real for many, while an equal number believe they exist only in Science Fiction.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986) was one of the time-travel stories I noticed over the years.

That one got me thinking. Maybe the UFOs seen today come from a distant future. Our progeny solved the mystery of time travel and are coming back to fact-check what really happened and update their history books.

The final answer will never remain final; new information can always be found or imagined, changing perceptions.

Table-of-Contents

In 1956, I was ten years old, and on Saturday nights our family would listen to songs on the radio.

We would sit around the kitchen table listening to the "Grand Ole Opry." 

When we looked out the window, it was cold and black outside, and we were warm and toasty inside. 

Mom would heat rye bread in the broiler at the bottom of her white stove.

When the bread was done toasting, she would spread lots of Oleo and let it melt into the rye bread. and give it to us. 

Oleo's full name was Oleomargarine; we just called it Oleo.

As kids, we could finish a whole loaf, along with a cup of hot chocolate.

For Dad, Mom would rub a clove of garlic on his slice, and one slice was good enough for him.

After finishing his slice, he would get up from his chair and stand beside the oil-burning stove, which kept our house warm during cold winter nights.

I remember one Saturday night when Tennessee Ernie Ford was singing his song "Sixteen Tons" on the radio.

Dad would join in and sing along with Ford. 

Not every word, only the best part, "St Peter don't ya call me, cause I can't go, I owe my soul to the company stooore."

That was the only song he ever sang along with. Most of the time, he would stare off into the distance while listening to the radio.

Tap on the red play button and listen to the song once more.

Table-of-Contents

Published in 1898 by D. Appleton and Company of New York
WRITTEN IN 1897  by E. Hough

I have a copy of this book that I found at a Pasadena used-book store.
_________________

It is a slice of history about the life of cowboys who worked on cattle drives in the American West between 1860 and 1895.

The 343-page book tells their story about working in the arms of Mother Nature.

Here is a quote from page 182:

“The monochrome of winter, the blue-grey of cold desolation, oppressed it all.”

Who were the brave souls choosing to work under those conditions to drive cattle to market?

Here is my guess, and it is just a guess.

I saw them as young men breaking free of the rules of civilization and embracing the rules of cattle drives.

Nobody would be calling daily meetings and telling them the goal to accomplish. They knew what needed to be done and did it.

The job had one goal: Bring those Longhorns from Texas to Kansas.

Table-of-Contents

Sitting straight as an arrow in the saddle, they were the boss over the cattle; nobody was a boss over them.

They believed in themselves.

Together as one. Rider and horse. They did their job.

Bringing beef to people living in the East while leading productive lives under the blazing Sun and cold rains.

When the Sun finished its job, a blanket of stars appeared. It was time for supper.

While sitting around a campfire, telling stories, and embellishing a few to make them more exciting, they were a team.

Here is another quote from page 182:

“The sky is even in its colours, except that now and then there scuds across it a strange and ominous thing,”

The quote reminded me of the song written by Stan Jones in 1948, “Ghost Riders in the Sky.” 

Stan said that he heard the story from an old cowboy when he was 12.

I am sure that the old cowboy had lived that glorious life and relived it when he told Stan his story. 

Tap on the red play button and listen to Stan's words sung by Johnny Cash.

Table-of-Contents

Saturday nights were movie nights when I was in grade school. Saturday afternoon was the only day we had to take a nap during the summer. 

Mom did not want us to fall asleep during the movie; it would be a waste of money.

Dad would always fall asleep during the movie, but not during Brigitte Bardot's movie, "And God Created Women."

Mom's favorite actor was Victor Mature.

One time, he told Mom, "You'll like this movie, Victor Manure is in it."

She shot back, "That is not how you pronounce his name!"

He just smiled.

Before we went to the drive-in theatre, we would help Mom put potato chips, fig newtons, and ginger ale in our station wagon.

Before we left, Mom would bend and rip two sticks of juicy fruit gum. Each of us would get half a stick and a lecture. 

Mom would say, "Chew it slowly with your mouth closed. Don't swallow it. It might plug you up."

There were cartoons before the first movie, and during the intermission, we ate our snacks before the second movie started.

The Saturday night movie at the Drive-in theatre had a big influence on me. I wanted to be a movie star and hang out at the pool every day.

Just like the actors did in Mom's Movieland magazine.

I knew that movies were made in California, and that was the place I wanted to be.

I knew that I could be a movie star if I didn't look in the mirror while I was brushing my teeth.

California Dreamin' became my favorite when I heard it on the radio, and I made my dream come true when I put down roots in 1968. 

Tap on the red play button and listen to the Mamas and the Papas sing their song on The Ed Sullivan Show.

A really big show.

Table-of-Contents