The Real Meaning of Life
This article will be a major deviation from anything else on my blog. On Thursday, December 8, 2011 (yes, I do publish ahead), my heart was stopped during major, emergency open- heart surgery, occasioned by a torn aorta (technically called a "dissected aorta"), most likely the result of very heavy duty weightlifting, my favorite sport and hobby, or at least formerly so. My body was taken down to about 35 to 40 degrees; all my blood was removed and stored separately while a cold saline solution was circulated through my system to keep it at that near-freezing temperature. During those several hours, all brain activity had ceased as the surgeons worked on my heart. I was, quite literally, dead, for a time. Rushed to the Hospital and facing imminent death, I had no alternative but to undergo to this procedure. The scariest part of the whole deal was that there was about a 10% chance that I would be unable to be revived. In other words, I would simply remain dead. While the odds for my survival were, statistically speaking, favorable, I was wheeled into pre-op knowing that I might never again see anyone whom I loved. I might never see my 14-year old daughter again. I might never see my wife again, either. 10% seems like a pretty high number when it applies to your life.
I was terrified.
I cried, and I begged God to let me come back. This article will not be a religious piece in any way, beyond my observing that I am convinced that my faith in God is, was, and will be important in my recovery. Others in my situation may have a very different belief system, or even no belief system to speak of, and our post surgical experiences would nevertheless be the same. This is not about how or why I came back, but rather about what to do with what can only be described as a true "second chance."
In all likelihood, this is not the article the reader came here for. Please read this one, anyway. The License Restoration and DUI stuff can be found in the "Topics" Section on the right. It's not going anywhere.
Imagine, for a moment, those people whose death would affect the most profound loss in your life.
Next, imagine that you were called and told by a distant hospital to expect the death of one of them imminently. Too soon, in fact, for you get anywhere close enough to see them and say goodbye. You are, instead, informed that you will be called shortly, once they have passed. You are told to stand by the phone.
In due course your phone rings, and you pick up to hear the dreaded news...
