Right This Way, Your Table’s Waiting

I got the word. Well, not THE Word, but the word before that word. I’m in the hospital, presumably to remain until I get a new heart. They did a procedure called a right heart catheterization yesterday, to measure the pressure inside my heart and lungs and my cardiac output, the voume of blood that flows from my heart with every beat. I’ll get a balloon pump on Monday most likely to help my heart keep moving blood through me until a new one becomes available.

I keep thinking to myself that this should be a more momentous thing. Is there anything on my bucket list I can check off quickly and easily, just in case? Should I write “To Be Opened If I Don’t Survive” letters? Nah, I don’t really go in for that sort of thing. I did marry Erin. I know that it doesn’t matter how carefully I draft a will or power of attorney, there is no document that will grant Erin more authoritative a position than a marriage certificate. But thee wasn’t anything somber or impending doomy about the ceremony. It was the simple civil ceemony thousands of people go through every day. The only other preparation I took that was out of the ordinary is I had an italian sausage sandwich, dipped, with sweet peppers, somehing I won’t be able to eat for a while after the transplant.

I think I may be approaching this new development causally because of fear that if I make it too much of a big deal, it will cause me to freeze up, to be more afraid than is healthy. I think I’m striking a good balance between trepidation and acceptance. I do hope the heart comes soon; hospitals are not the most entertaining places and the food, while decent, is nowhere as good as mine. I expect I will continue to run hot and cold on the nerves and jitters as I have so far. But at the moment what I’m feeling more than anything is impatience. I want to be back home with Erin and my own kitchen. Oh yeah, and with the full array of tv options that have become my greatest luxury in life.

I’m including the standard link for my GoFundMe the now-familiar plea for your help. This adventure is not cheap and I’m almost out of my own resources.

Thanks again. More tomorrow. Peace and Love,

Mark

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In 1998 I had a heart attack. I remember the ED doc telling me “You probably won’t die tonight.” I didn’t.

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Mark Golub

Mark Golub

In 1998 I had a heart attack. I remember the ED doc telling me “You probably won’t die tonight.” I didn’t.

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