After the two weeks I spent in the hospital with my rebuilt heart, I took a taxi home. The cab driver was curious about why I had been in the Cardiac Ward.
I told him the story from waking up in the dark with my hands and feet tied to a bed and my Mother standing beside me (the confusing part was why my Mother was there - badoom ching!) all the way through finding out about the quadruple bypass and valve replacement. I was just getting to my retrograde amnesia about the heart attack itself when the cabby turned, pointed at me and said,
"Man, you're a miracle! With all that happened to you - you are a Miracle Man! You really got a gift of life again."
Even though I hate being interrupted mid-story, I realized he was right. The skill of the doctors, my family's love and the grace of God had combined to save my life as I slept.
Hallelujah, y'all.
HALLELUJAH Painting by Harry Teague
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