It was the summer of 2005, and I lay in an emergency room near death. My heart failed without warning, reason, or cause: idiopathic. My doctor's assistant assumed I was too young for that, so he pronounced I had asthma, and by the time my actual doctor discovered the error, my injection fraction was 10 and 9would have been fatal. The ER staff turned pale (a lighter shade of pale). For five years, I was a number waiting for a heart transplant. I had three heart specialists and had been examined in three major NJ hospitals. One of the cardiologists was one of NJ's premier doctors. He let me research the meds and make my choices. I made all my own food and followed their advice and instructions. I was able to be removed from the heart waiting list, but remained "on early retirement". That is why I became the "house husband".
So when my wife was diagnosed with early-onset dementia, I just upped my efforts as a house husband and eased into my current job as her only caregiver.
My recent cardiological tests pronounced me as having (not a perfect heart), but a heart of a normal man nearing 80 years old.
Here is to medical science and the power of the mind over matter.
My cat Sunny asked Boomie if she wanted to know a secret.
