EDGE OF ETERNITY

I recently told a friend that I find myself huffing and puffing more now as I work.

“It’s probably congestive heart failure,” he replied. “That’s what my cousin had.”

Ouch.

A few months late, I mentioned to his wife that he had told me this.

She made a face that made me think that that was just what he did, that I shouldn’t worry, that I was fine. All this without a word.

I chose to believe what I perceived was her advice, even though she didn’t say a word.

This week, the first two days I worked (yep, you caught me. I worked during the corona virus self-isolation order.) I found myself huffing and puffing, and my muscles were tired instantly.

I wasn’t having any fun, either.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what my friend hand said months earlier.

I must have congestive heart failure.

I was so tired when I got home, I told Wendy that I probably needed a check up.

Now, this is significant. I seldom complain about anything, except maybe being really tired when I have had a really long day.

Her worry flag went up, immediately.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

She got out her google machine and started asking me questions, symptoms.

All I could think about was how much insurance I would leave her with.

I thought about the age my mom died. 72. Heart. I’m 68.

Insurance payoff is really good before 70, pretty good before 75, okay after 75.

Funny thing, I wasn’t afraid to die, as long as she was provided for. I guess this “religion thing” is working.

I asked her how old my grandfather was when he died.

“Around 80,” she said. “Why? Do you think you are about to die?!?!”

“No. Actually, I was just trying to remember how he looked when he was my age.”

I kinda dreaded the third day of work.

Wendy had taken my words seriously and she fought valiantly all day in the spiritual realms against that lying devil that keeps trying to take away the joy of this life. Pleading with God, yelling at the devil.
I was totally unaware.

It was a difficult job. I had no shortness of breath. My muscles didn’t get fatigued. When I got home, she asked how I felt.
“Really good!” I exclaimed. “I can’t believe how much better I felt today than the last two.”

“I prayed for you all day long. All day long!”

We worked together on a project fixing up a spare room for her craft room. All better, I am.

But, I do think I will set up a check up.

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