Two years have passed since my open heart surgery

You would think it would be one of those dates that would remain indelibly etched in my memory, but until a few moments ago, I thought today was the two-year anniversary of the open heart surgery that has kept me around a while longer.

As it turns out, a little research revealed to me the two-year anniversary was actually Saturday.

I am just grateful to be here to observe it, whatever day it was.

When it happened, I briefly wrote on Facebook about checking into Freeman on April 17, 2016, then I took my first real vacation from writing until I wrote a Turner Report post 12 days later detailing what had happened to me:

This is some of what I wrote two years ago:

Those who have read my Facebook page have known that on the early morning of Monday, April 17, approximately 2:30 p.m., I checked myself into the Freeman Emergency Room, not knowing I was in the process of having a heart attack.

Truth be told, it may have been a second one. I had a similar pain for a short time the previous evening. It went away quickly, but after a year that has seen me go undergo four stents, I decided I would go to the emergency room at the next hint of chest discomfort.

A quick procedure was done to implant a balloon which would stay in while my body was being drained of a blood thinner I had taken following the stents. The balloon stayed in for the next week, leaving me on my back in the Freeman ICU.

The procedure, a triple heart bypass, was conducted during a five-hour period the evening of Friday, April 21. I was told it was a success and now the hard part would begin- doing the necessary work to bring myself back to regular, ordinary life, as it is.

I did my best during this past week to do what I was told, not complain, and work toward being released as soon as possible. The hard-working people at Freeman have done so much for me over the past year, that I will never find a way to repay them.

The last thing they needed was some 60-year-old whiner, realizing that his life had taken a change for the worse and dragging everyone down into the mud with him. I won't say that I did not complain, but if I did, I quickly apologized for it and tried to do better the next time.

When it was time for four a.m. x-rays, three-times-a-day physical therapy, or having to take a dozen pills at a time when I was on a restricted liquid diet. (I have a hard time swallowing pills without plenty of water). I went along with it.

Finally, on Thursday, my last physical therapy session, took me into an area of the hospital where I could walk up and down stairs. I went up the stairs once and back down, but it was a big thrill when I was told, "You're ready."

Earlier this week, I had a checkup with the heart surgeon- things appear to be going nicely and I feel great.

Thanks to all of you who supported me through that time and in the two years that have followed.