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Just as Grandma begins to break off the turkey legs, start explaining the very interesting process by which your heart surgeon used a bone saw to split the sternum and pull your ribcage apart.
When self-proclaimed badasses begin showing off bruises and scars, stand innocently by until the showdown reaches its peak, then pull your wildcard.
Don’t believe everything your atria tell you.
Fill post-op awkward silences by loudly announcing that your chest hurts and then offer no sign of comprehending why.
Just wanted to say sorry I haven’t posted in ages! I feel real bad about that. :( I recently got a full-time job so I’m being an adult or something? Who knows. Anyway, I’m still around if you ever want to chat (about cardiology or otherwise). I’m always up for any support I can offer!
I hope all your tickers are all ticking well. I love you all from the apex of my heart!
He smiled and looked in my eyes as he swept my hair over my shoulder. For a moment, his fingers brushed past the collar of my low-cut shirt. I glanced up at his kind expression and felt a little more at ease. As his hand slid up my back, he whispered, “Take a deep breath.” And then he pressed the stethoscope to my skin.
I little painting I did in honor of my oh-so-handy artificial ring.
Hey lovely followers! My apologies for the inexcusable lack of posts of late. Here’s a new one in honor of JUNE 7TH! Yes, that’s right, it has been ONE WHOLE YEAR since my last open heart surgery! WOO! Here’s to my first successful year in possession of all the requisite parts of my heart.