In honor of National Heart Month, and drawing inspiration from my new buddy Tombee Taker who just re-blogged his BlogFestivus post (http://shoutsfromtheabyss.wordpress.com/2014/02/09/blogfestivus-day-nine-and-to-all-a-good-night-2/), I’m throwing this one back out there into the blogosphere.
Originally posted on Lit Grit:
Approaching the six year anniversary of the 95 percent blockage in my 38 year-old lower anterior descending artery, I’m still counting my blessings. Happy to be alive, that’s what I am. I snuggle longer, stress less, laugh more, eat dessert first, kiss my sleeping kids — all that jazz. But: I miss shoveling snow!
At the end of a week in the hospital recovering from my freak heart attack, the doctor sent me home with a list of activities and corresponding time frames when I would be allowed to return to them. “Walk a block – one week. Light house work – two weeks. Climb stairs – three weeks. Have sex – four weeks. Shovel snow – NEVER.”
Indiana was blessed with a lovely snow storm last night. Balm to my soul. Anyone who knows me knows I didn’t leave Colorado in my rearview mirror seven years ago. It hangs…
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