It's been six months since my heart exploded. I feel like I've aged twenty years since then. It's a chore to get up in the morning, and I'm often in pain. My traitorous heart continues to plot against me. I spent last Tuesday in the emergency room, short of breath and suffering the same pains I felt when I had my subsequent heart attack (three days after being released from the hospital for my torn aorta). Another blocked artery, and time for another stent. I'm quickly becoming a cyborg, and not the cool kind.
I'm back in work. It's a lot tougher than I remember, but I'm handling it. I'm also back to writing, and that's a wonderful thing. I was worried the brain damage had stolen my mind.