Rewired for the Journey

  Well, it is getting real now that I have a date for my open-heart surgery. It is ironic like the song from Atlanta Morrisett's album Jagged Little Pill that I never had surgery in my life and now at the young age of sixty-four I am finally going to have surgery and it is open heart! Go big or go home! When I first was told I needed heart surgery three months ago I was at first scared. I felt bad that I was scared thinking I should be showing more faith than I was. But it is not natural to be sick or die, that is not what God originally intended for us in the Garden of Eden.  I started to pray that God would give me the courage to face my surgery and not be afraid. I wanted my faith to be real and active. O'me of little faith. I did not want to be a follower of Jesus Christ and it just be lip service and not actively living my faith. In my heart, I knew I did not want to be a coward. I had three months of prayer and God was merciful and when I went this week for the final two

I have always been a gym rat and played sports. At sixty-three I prided myself in being fit and trim. I ate close to a Mediterranean diet, slept adequately, and did not smoke or party. I was smug enough to believe I would never have any serious health issues because I cared for my health so well. There is an old saying that pride comes before the fall, and fall I did. It started two years ago at an annual check-up when the doctor heard a slight heart murmur. My poor man's insurance would not pay for an echocardiogram. So I went on with life. The last four months leading up to July 1st I had been gaining weight and losing breath ever so gradually. My energy level was slowly going.  I got a strange virus that made me sicker than a dog for three days with a fever. I went to bed and felt like I was drowning so I coughed and choked and fought for breath. I then decided I was getting older and maybe I developed asthma so I headed to a clinic. The nurse practitioner said I did not have as