Starting Dec. 20, 2013, I lost three days of my life. On Dec. 22, I woke up staring at an office clock and a board titled "Blake Medical Center" and "Wayne." I thought, "Whoa, where am I?"
Within minutes, two nurses were at my bedside, assuring me I was fine in the Blake cardio ward (attached to IVs and heart monitors) and to relax.
Seems angels from Station 9 kept me alive, transported me from Robinson Preserve in northwest Bradenton to Blake ER doctors and nurses, and from then on, it was a piece of cake. Ha ha. Sponge baths for 19 days suck, but I got over it when I considered the alternative.
I have a pair of Wrangler jeans with scissored legs for sale for no less than $10,000,000, which I will donate to charity. Otherwise, they will hang inside my home with my other trophies.
Volunteer to your passion. Because of four years living in Alaska, I fervently love bald eagles and volunteer watching a nest. One or two eaglets are due soon. I will be nearby come hell or high water.
Enjoy your life and get over petty stuff; it just does not matter. Get off your butt and exercise a little every day, even if its only a few steps.
Donate money to the Salvation Army, my late wife's favorite charity. Oh, so you did that, did you? Do a good deed to a stranger, it will feel so good.
Sorry if I make little or no sense, but at times my elevator doesn't reach the top floor.
Christmas 2013, the best Christmas ever.
I want to thank everyone at Blake and Station 9 for their dedication and loving care. I can never express my gratitude and thanks, and that frustrates me.
Love to all.