February 23rd, 2010, two months ago today, was a snowy, blustery day in Ottawa. I know because I looked it up:http://www.climate.weatheroffice.gc.ca/climateData/hourlydata_e.html?timeframe=1&Prov=CA&StationID=4337&Year=2010&Month=2&Day=23

I can’t remember the weather myself after about nine in the morning, as that was the day of my quintuple bypass surgery. So two months later it is a good time to reflect.

Prior to that day I had only limited bad experiences: I had never spent the night in a hospital and had never had my body incised, although I did once sit next to the Woman Who Claims to be Our Member of Parliament. I had made it as far as the door to the OR two weeks prior, so that part I knew. But what was beyond the door I knew not. I did not fear death. I figured that death had the options of being either Eternal Nothing or The Big Audit. I was prepared for the Eternal Nothing as I had already (sorry for repeating myself) already sat next to the Woman Who Claims to be Our Member of Parliament. And no last minute mumbo jumbo was going to make The Big Audit better or worse – you are measured by your actions, not words. I did fear for my wife coping if I died, but I did not fear death for myself. Stroke and disability were a different matter entirely, but in reality, the odds against death, stroke, and disability were pretty good.

I feared waking up and not knowing where I was, I feared the breathing tube, and I feared pain. So what happened? Well, the instant I became aware, I knew that I was in a recovery bed. I knew that it had to be the ICU but in my memory I was in a massive room and there were no other patients there. But I knew I was in good hands and had no fear. I had played the breathing tube thing over and over in my head. I thought that it would be miserable: I thought that I would not be able to speak because of it, and I thought that it would be painful. I barely remember the breathing tube, although I clearly remember Nurse Kevin talking about removing it. There was a low level of pain and discomfort in my chest but it never got unmanageable (i.e. manageable as by Tylenol)

I have already written about the five nights at the University of Ottawa Heart Institute. I am not going to repeat it here, other than to say, yet again, that I found this health facility to be amazing and I would recommend to anyone on the planet.

I had planned to read and read and read during my recovery. And I planned to watch Ken Burns' documentaries. I love to read and I really need to watch more TV. (Aside from Anda: "?????") Yet during the first month I did not want to read a lot. I think I read two books which is much lower than my usual consumption. I think that my brain wanted to rest from absorbing the thoughts of others. I did a lot of thinking, just like Plato. I did a lot of napping, just like Pluto. Thinking and Napping are two real luxuries.

I don’t think that the napping part requires an explanation, but I really do want to expand about the Thinking. Thinking, with a capital T, is a real luxury. Ordinarily, my brain is as cluttered as any living space that I am allowed to be in. I think about short term needs and commitments to outside forces that are insignificant and transitory and mundane. As artificial in power and relevance as they are, they are still like something foul on the soles of your shoes: they require attention. But those things are on hold and being handled by others. So, I have been able to Think over the last 60 days. Think about my good fortune, Think about the Grace of God in all things having molecular structure, Think about the wisdom of my friends that I often meet in the evenings, Think about silence, Think about trying to hear the message, Think about duty, Think about obligation, Think about my weakness, Think about the amazing amount of resources that have been bestowed on me, Think about the people that I have come to know better, Think about how to love, Think about how to be loved. I often will just sit and Think.

I know that the great multitaskers of the world would mock this. They would say that they exercise, watch an educational DVD, text the office, and do their taxes at the same time. Only a fool or simpleton would squander valuable time just sitting and thinking. That is sloth beyond imagination. Well maybe. But the next time that I see an elderly person that is sitting in a chair and perhaps staring vacantly, I think that I will know why that curl of a smile is on their face.

60 days!! I am walking 4K a day. Let’s just say that my running is on hold. I spoke with my UOHI Mentor today and we agreed to back off cycling for two weeks and kayaking for four. I am allowed to get my heart rate up to 30 bps above rest. My blood fats and sugars are where they are supposed to be. The sternum is almost whole. But I still tire easily and I still have several things to check off on the list before I go back to work.

The only thing that I still cannot adequately convey is my profound sense of gratitude. It is in my heart and in my soul – I just can’t make it appear in words. I guess I will have to just take two out of three.