It's been eight days since I awoke in the cardiac intensive care unit at CU-Denver Hospital, yet it seems I'm just now rousing from the fog of that dream world. Simply learning to handle basic life functions on my own has been a draining task, filling up most of my days. It's an experience my body seems intent on forgetting as soon as possible. Already, those long hours of days and nights in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines with tubes coming out of me – including two horrifyingly large and sensitive "drain" tubes that came directly out of my belly below the ribcage – already those long hours of introspection are threatening to fade away in spite of my intentions. How can I tell this story? How can I describe the sense of change I have? I look almost the same, but my heart has been cut open and partially replaced in spite of my otherwise healthy 31-year-old body. Click here to read more.
The following was originally a post on my home page near midnight Oct. 29, hours before my operation.
This is it. Tomorrow I embark on a heart-stopping adventure, when I check into the hospital for open-heart surgery. It promises to be a wild personal experience, and I'm already looking at life from a different angle.