The myocardial infarction did not occur yesterday. But my heart attack and the details leading up to my hospitalization remain vivid. The chain of events revolved around that day and a half are both solemn and humorous. No, really, I believe you will smile concerning the sequence of events leading up to my heart attack; hopefully, not laugh at my pain but smile with me as we engage in my process of healing.
Wednesdays, most of the company staff worked virtually. The coronavirus quarantine was still very much in play and our company headquarters set stringent mandates regarding the government protocols. Even when we were in our offices the use of PPEs, social distancing, and the number of people within a given area were all strictly enforced. Wednesdays were established for a disinfecting, cleansing time for the company buildings. This particular Wednesday was a dreary, misty gray, overcast November day. As I looked out my study’s front window, I was thankful to be working from home. I had recently accepted this job one month earlier and was attempting to focus on learning the aspects of my new role. Along with working on new software programs and the expected daily routine, I spent my hours assessing my skills and how to apply them to this new job.
Prior to my new position, I had completed graduate certification courses in military resilience counseling. I was passionate about engaging clients with my new training in military counseling, but was experiencing state licensing issues. All this was the result of a relatively recent move from a prior state to our current location. The differing state mandates limited my ability to get appropriate paperwork and become licensed. My husband’s executive position was something he had always desired and frankly, he was one of the top in his field. I was willing to support both the move and his new position in hopes that we were establishing a permanent home. As much as my husband experienced the love of his job and the excitement of developing his company’s new programs, my best efforts to become a licensed counselor had floundered. I had failed to establish either how to overcome the state licensing issues or discover my new purpose in life.
Prior to this eventful move I had experienced a few major health setbacks, but Father God and my family’s love had brought me through those sufferings. People who know me well, call me stoic, but in reality I am known for choosing a road less traveled when it comes to life. I turned 60 years of age at our new location; and I was fit, mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Often people would ask me how I remained so healthy, and my candid response was always, “I don’t care how old the calendar says I am. As long as I maintain a healthy approach to life, age will have nothing to do with my wellbeing. I love my family, my God, my careers, and keeping fit.”
That morning I had missed breakfast. My husband and I had overslept. So, in an attempt to support my husband to be on time for work, I packed a quick lunch from last night’s leftover chicken piccata, salad, and white macadamia nut cookies. All of these items were made from scratch. A Pennsylvania German phrase my mother used to quote was, “Good cooking makes a good marriage. Kissing wears out, but cooking doesn’t.” With the limited time available, my husband grabbed a protein bar and a thermos of coffee for his breakfast, and along with his lunch, headed out the front door.
Once my husband had left, I set up my work computer and research sources and got busy checking my emails. In spite of the pandemic, my days were full of responsibility and satisfying. That morning I attended two virtual meetings; one on Zoom and the other on Google Meet. Both meetings had gone well. After completing my notes, I began to create the follow up reports. Nothing indicated any area for stress. In fact, I welcomed the Wednesday opportunity to work double duty. By this I mean, during a brief break I could take a few minutes to either drop in a load of laundry or empty a dish washer. I looked forward each week to my double-duty Wednesdays.
I kept my own concoction of trail mix at my desk: unsalted walnuts, cashews, Brazil nuts, and dried cranberries. As I snacked on the trail mix that morning I decided to skip lunch. I would remain productive. Still, there was this burning sensation around my heart. I felt off my game.
The coronavirus in the year 2020 caused upheaval for the entire world; but with keeping events closer to home, the pandemic had altered our core household’s functioning. Yes, the pandemic affected everyone in the world, but as a mom you feel the heartache your child experiences. As Mac’s mom I struggled with the social, emotional and physical impact it would have on our son. Mac is an amazingly talented individual. However, after completing his MBA and as a result of the pandemic, he graduated virtually. We had a backyard Bar-B-Que to commemorate his achievement, but his discouragement over a canceled celebratory European month long trip was unmistakably expressed on his face. His new job where he had interned the previous summer, thankfully allowed him to continue his employment – again, virtually. As with many a newly graduated college student, the pandemic held a vice grip over his future career.
Fortunately when my husband and I built our home, we had the foresight to construct a walkout apartment on the ground floor. Perhaps we were planning for a mother-in-law or sister-in-law suite. Perhaps we would host exchange students once visas would be accepted again… Whatever the reason, its first occupant would be our son Mac.
On the ground floor Mac had his own alcove studio; a private office, living room, bedroom, kitchen, and bath. To increase the apartment’s appeal, one need only step outside to engage in a swimming pool and lounge area. We thought it was a perfect solution for Mac’s pandemic setback, but he did not. Yes, I know many Millennials experienced this awkward setback – living with their parents. But for Mac, who had always made the careful and calculated decisions, he was anxious to begin his new life and show the world that by making right choices and sacrificing immediately gratifying ones, his new life would pay off. Only this time through no fault of his own, his wise choices had not.
Anyway, the time was about 1:00 pm when Mac emerged from his first floor flat. He was looking out the front door side lights waiting on an Amazon delivery. I motioned him to enter my study and spoke, “Mac, I’m not feeling well. I have this acidic burn around my heart. I just realized because Dad and I overslept that I had forgotten to take my blood pressure medicine. I’ve taken the pills now. Yes, I am probably fine, but if this feeling doesn’t go away or increases… well, would you drive me to the closest ER? I finish work today at 3:00 pm so I will attempt to hang in there and not miss any work…”
Mac’s response was unconcerned, “Sure, Mom, but do I have time to take a shower first?” “Of course,” I responded, “I have work items I need to complete and turn in before I am finished for the day. Remember, I am finished working at 3:00 pm.” Mac returned to his apartment, and I also returned to my work.
Now it is my habit to dress each morning in appropriate business attire whether or not I am headed into the office. By dressing this way, it helps me stay focused on my work and should a spontaneous Zoom meeting invitation arrive - well, I am ready. Mac dresses in appropriate business attire when the business day warrants it. Otherwise, he is tres’ casual. So yes, I understood he would wish to shower before he would take me anywhere and frankly, he appeared to have plenty of time.
In the meantime I attempted to reach out to my husband. I called him at work, which I almost never do. I received his automated text that he was in a meeting and would return my call when he came out of the meeting. I then attempted to text him and asked him to call me; again the automated text message. I continued to work and the acid burn around my heart intensified. By the time 3:00 pm arrived I was thankful to be finished with work and I could focus on handling the pain.
I went downstairs to Mac’s apartment and knocked lightly on the door. This was my signal that I was outside his space. I waited for his response to enter. It didn’t come. Instead, as I cracked open the door I heard him on a conference call discussing business strategies with several associates. Mac seemed to defer to one associate in particular as a supervisor. No ride to the ER that way.
I went upstairs and returned to my study. I attempted to call my husband one more time. Again the text message response – I’m in a meeting. I will return your call when I am available. As I picked up my car keys and my purse, I attempted one last phone call to my husband’s work. This time I called an extremely talented graphic artist I had worked with when I was the technical publications lead at the same company where my husband works. Sam is an introvert and usually works independently, but I was fortunate to not only be her colleague but also a friend. Sam answered her phone. After introducing myself I blurted out, “Hey, Sam, would you do me a favor? I need you to interrupt whatever meeting my husband is currently in and tell him to call his wife – right away. Would you do that for me?” Looking back I realize I had not expounded on any reason for my instructions or the urgency of the matter. Still, Sam knew me well enough to respond immediately and gave my urgent message.
As my car entered the freeway ramp, I said a silent prayer, “Please Lord, do not let me have a full blown attack while I am driving myself to the ER. I do not want to injure anyone else by causing a wreck.” Just then my cell phone rang, and the car speaker picked up the call. “Hon, what’s going on?” was my husband’s query. My response was direct, “Don’t get upset, but I am driving myself to the ER right now. I believe I am having a heart attack.” His pause was brief and then he replied, “No, Hon, you are not having a heart attack. Remember, you just picked up that new prescription for your migraines. You are probably just having a slight reaction to the new medicine. Anyway, I will be home in about an hour, and we can see how you are feeling by then.”
This time I took a deep breath and a long pause before I responded. My husband is my fiercest champion and the love of my life, but when it comes to my health and any serious health condition – well, he is in complete denial. I began,” Please listen to me. Those pills are still in the unopened bottle and in the original pharmacy bag. I have not taken any new medications. Besides I am on my way to the ER now. You can meet me there after work or you can meet me as soon as possible. But I am driving straight to the ER right now. Oh, and I did not let Mac know I had left because he was on a conference call with his boss. I love you. I will see you at the ER when you get there.” I ended the phone call.
Fortunately the hospital was only 18 minutes from our house. I relaxed slightly as I was wheeled back into an examination room. Once inside a young nurse assisted with undressing me and putting on a hospital gown. She methodically hooked up the EKG. As she placed the leads on the V3 through V6 left breast area, she spoke reassuringly. “What makes you think this is a heart attack? What were you doing today?” When all the electrodes were attached, she turned away from me to view the EKG readings. It was then she said, “So, what has happened that you are experiencing these pains?” I simply stated, “Life’s troubles.” The nurse probed further with her questioning, “And what are life’s troubles?” Finally my tears began to flow, not in wracking gasping sobs, but in response to the steady stream of pain; both physical and emotional.
Proverbs 13:12 (NIV) “hope deferred makes the heart sick”…. It is at this point where the reader needs to have faith to believe in the supernatural. I had taken no pain reliever at home nor had the hospital given medication to me. However, as the nurse repeated her question, “What are life’s troubles?”, the examination room became a misty gray as if lights begin to dim in an auditorium but do not go completely out. Then I saw a wide dark grey ribbon about three feet in height that encircled ¾ of the room. The ribbon began on the left side of my bed and curled itself along the foot of my bed and ran toward the right hand side. It stopped about a quarter of the way up my bed’s right side. On the strip of ribbon was every trauma I had ever experienced. The images were not in pictures per se nor was there writing on the ribbon, but I perceived the traumas, nonetheless. The first trauma I sensed was when I turned fourteen years old, and my Pop informed me that he had been given three months to live. I wept salty, hot, relentless tears but still I made no sound. The tears puddled on my cheek bone and then ran off saturating my neck’s right side and parts of the hospital gown. My heart recognized the images and the resulting pain seemed to grab my heart. It was when I viewed these images that I heard a voice speak to my spirit, “I got you through these traumas; I will get you through this one.”
Finishing the EKG reading, the nurse, who had turned back to me, noticed my tears. ”We are not allowed to touch you”, she whispered, “But…” She raised her two arms above her head and held them with elbows bent and the palms of her hands pointing toward me. With her fingers almost touching , she moved her arms in a motion that reminded me of the beating of angel wings. “This is me hugging you,” she stated. Just then, my husband stepped into my exam area and the nurse left with the EKG results. He approached me and gave me a hug and a kiss. And then he and I just sat looking at each other; me lying in the bed in a slightly damp hospital gown, and him sitting in a blue plastic chair. Just looking, not speaking. His eyes were asking me a myriad of questions and attempting to reassure me at the same time. We waited for a doctor.
Around seven o’clock a cardiologist stepped into the exam room. The doctor spoke softly and stated the EKG results were inconclusive. He indicated results did show some heart complications, but he could not definitively state whether or not I had had a heart attack. He requested we remain until 10:00 pm and then if another test indicated no additional complications, the doctor would send us home. Although I had not received any medication during the ER visit, my blood pressure, still high, had dropped. I was not experiencing the acid burn to the same extent when I first arrived at the ER. My caution kicked in. If we left at 10:00 pm, I would need to drive myself back to our house and I was already tired. I just wanted to sleep in my own bed. I asked to be released. The cardiologist released us.
When my husband and I returned home, I realized we had not had dinner. I cooked a quick chicken and rice dinner with salad. After cleaning up the dishes I went to bed for an early evening.
For those of you who need an epilogue: A dear friend and “recent editor” had this assessment of my short story. She has known me for years but stated my readers may misinterpret three main points regarding my recanting these events. 1. I have a dry sense of humor – I got this from my Pop. 2. My husband and my children’s relationships are two of God’s greatest gifts. About 15 years into my marriage and after having birthed two beautiful children, I was whining to God about not having received my heart’s desires. “After all, Father, Your word promises as I delight in You that You will give me my heart’s desires. Where are they?...” And in my spirit I heard Him say, “I gave you a husband who loves and honors you. I gave you two children who love and honor you.” I felt ashamed and ecstatic . His word is true, and He did gift me the best desires of my heart. And so, I have attempted to love and support both my husband and my children even when I am tired, or cranky, or hurting. But then again, isn’t that what you do, too? 3. Please do not misunderstand what I am writing. This stoic behavior is engrained in me. This is who I am. I do not expect you to copy my behavior – Heaven forbid - but desire instead for you to share in my experience to possibly enrich your own life.
Remember: May we embark on wisdom’s journey together.
Wednesdays, most of the company staff worked virtually. The coronavirus quarantine was still very much in play and our company headquarters set stringent mandates regarding the government protocols. Even when we were in our offices the use of PPEs, social distancing, and the number of people within a given area were all strictly enforced. Wednesdays were established for a disinfecting, cleansing time for the company buildings. This particular Wednesday was a dreary, misty gray, overcast November day. As I looked out my study’s front window, I was thankful to be working from home. I had recently accepted this job one month earlier and was attempting to focus on learning the aspects of my new role. Along with working on new software programs and the expected daily routine, I spent my hours assessing my skills and how to apply them to this new job.
Prior to my new position, I had completed graduate certification courses in military resilience counseling. I was passionate about engaging clients with my new training in military counseling, but was experiencing state licensing issues. All this was the result of a relatively recent move from a prior state to our current location. The differing state mandates limited my ability to get appropriate paperwork and become licensed. My husband’s executive position was something he had always desired and frankly, he was one of the top in his field. I was willing to support both the move and his new position in hopes that we were establishing a permanent home. As much as my husband experienced the love of his job and the excitement of developing his company’s new programs, my best efforts to become a licensed counselor had floundered. I had failed to establish either how to overcome the state licensing issues or discover my new purpose in life.
Prior to this eventful move I had experienced a few major health setbacks, but Father God and my family’s love had brought me through those sufferings. People who know me well, call me stoic, but in reality I am known for choosing a road less traveled when it comes to life. I turned 60 years of age at our new location; and I was fit, mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Often people would ask me how I remained so healthy, and my candid response was always, “I don’t care how old the calendar says I am. As long as I maintain a healthy approach to life, age will have nothing to do with my wellbeing. I love my family, my God, my careers, and keeping fit.”
That morning I had missed breakfast. My husband and I had overslept. So, in an attempt to support my husband to be on time for work, I packed a quick lunch from last night’s leftover chicken piccata, salad, and white macadamia nut cookies. All of these items were made from scratch. A Pennsylvania German phrase my mother used to quote was, “Good cooking makes a good marriage. Kissing wears out, but cooking doesn’t.” With the limited time available, my husband grabbed a protein bar and a thermos of coffee for his breakfast, and along with his lunch, headed out the front door.
Once my husband had left, I set up my work computer and research sources and got busy checking my emails. In spite of the pandemic, my days were full of responsibility and satisfying. That morning I attended two virtual meetings; one on Zoom and the other on Google Meet. Both meetings had gone well. After completing my notes, I began to create the follow up reports. Nothing indicated any area for stress. In fact, I welcomed the Wednesday opportunity to work double duty. By this I mean, during a brief break I could take a few minutes to either drop in a load of laundry or empty a dish washer. I looked forward each week to my double-duty Wednesdays.
I kept my own concoction of trail mix at my desk: unsalted walnuts, cashews, Brazil nuts, and dried cranberries. As I snacked on the trail mix that morning I decided to skip lunch. I would remain productive. Still, there was this burning sensation around my heart. I felt off my game.
The coronavirus in the year 2020 caused upheaval for the entire world; but with keeping events closer to home, the pandemic had altered our core household’s functioning. Yes, the pandemic affected everyone in the world, but as a mom you feel the heartache your child experiences. As Mac’s mom I struggled with the social, emotional and physical impact it would have on our son. Mac is an amazingly talented individual. However, after completing his MBA and as a result of the pandemic, he graduated virtually. We had a backyard Bar-B-Que to commemorate his achievement, but his discouragement over a canceled celebratory European month long trip was unmistakably expressed on his face. His new job where he had interned the previous summer, thankfully allowed him to continue his employment – again, virtually. As with many a newly graduated college student, the pandemic held a vice grip over his future career.
Fortunately when my husband and I built our home, we had the foresight to construct a walkout apartment on the ground floor. Perhaps we were planning for a mother-in-law or sister-in-law suite. Perhaps we would host exchange students once visas would be accepted again… Whatever the reason, its first occupant would be our son Mac.
On the ground floor Mac had his own alcove studio; a private office, living room, bedroom, kitchen, and bath. To increase the apartment’s appeal, one need only step outside to engage in a swimming pool and lounge area. We thought it was a perfect solution for Mac’s pandemic setback, but he did not. Yes, I know many Millennials experienced this awkward setback – living with their parents. But for Mac, who had always made the careful and calculated decisions, he was anxious to begin his new life and show the world that by making right choices and sacrificing immediately gratifying ones, his new life would pay off. Only this time through no fault of his own, his wise choices had not.
Anyway, the time was about 1:00 pm when Mac emerged from his first floor flat. He was looking out the front door side lights waiting on an Amazon delivery. I motioned him to enter my study and spoke, “Mac, I’m not feeling well. I have this acidic burn around my heart. I just realized because Dad and I overslept that I had forgotten to take my blood pressure medicine. I’ve taken the pills now. Yes, I am probably fine, but if this feeling doesn’t go away or increases… well, would you drive me to the closest ER? I finish work today at 3:00 pm so I will attempt to hang in there and not miss any work…”
Mac’s response was unconcerned, “Sure, Mom, but do I have time to take a shower first?” “Of course,” I responded, “I have work items I need to complete and turn in before I am finished for the day. Remember, I am finished working at 3:00 pm.” Mac returned to his apartment, and I also returned to my work.
Now it is my habit to dress each morning in appropriate business attire whether or not I am headed into the office. By dressing this way, it helps me stay focused on my work and should a spontaneous Zoom meeting invitation arrive - well, I am ready. Mac dresses in appropriate business attire when the business day warrants it. Otherwise, he is tres’ casual. So yes, I understood he would wish to shower before he would take me anywhere and frankly, he appeared to have plenty of time.
In the meantime I attempted to reach out to my husband. I called him at work, which I almost never do. I received his automated text that he was in a meeting and would return my call when he came out of the meeting. I then attempted to text him and asked him to call me; again the automated text message. I continued to work and the acid burn around my heart intensified. By the time 3:00 pm arrived I was thankful to be finished with work and I could focus on handling the pain.
I went downstairs to Mac’s apartment and knocked lightly on the door. This was my signal that I was outside his space. I waited for his response to enter. It didn’t come. Instead, as I cracked open the door I heard him on a conference call discussing business strategies with several associates. Mac seemed to defer to one associate in particular as a supervisor. No ride to the ER that way.
I went upstairs and returned to my study. I attempted to call my husband one more time. Again the text message response – I’m in a meeting. I will return your call when I am available. As I picked up my car keys and my purse, I attempted one last phone call to my husband’s work. This time I called an extremely talented graphic artist I had worked with when I was the technical publications lead at the same company where my husband works. Sam is an introvert and usually works independently, but I was fortunate to not only be her colleague but also a friend. Sam answered her phone. After introducing myself I blurted out, “Hey, Sam, would you do me a favor? I need you to interrupt whatever meeting my husband is currently in and tell him to call his wife – right away. Would you do that for me?” Looking back I realize I had not expounded on any reason for my instructions or the urgency of the matter. Still, Sam knew me well enough to respond immediately and gave my urgent message.
As my car entered the freeway ramp, I said a silent prayer, “Please Lord, do not let me have a full blown attack while I am driving myself to the ER. I do not want to injure anyone else by causing a wreck.” Just then my cell phone rang, and the car speaker picked up the call. “Hon, what’s going on?” was my husband’s query. My response was direct, “Don’t get upset, but I am driving myself to the ER right now. I believe I am having a heart attack.” His pause was brief and then he replied, “No, Hon, you are not having a heart attack. Remember, you just picked up that new prescription for your migraines. You are probably just having a slight reaction to the new medicine. Anyway, I will be home in about an hour, and we can see how you are feeling by then.”
This time I took a deep breath and a long pause before I responded. My husband is my fiercest champion and the love of my life, but when it comes to my health and any serious health condition – well, he is in complete denial. I began,” Please listen to me. Those pills are still in the unopened bottle and in the original pharmacy bag. I have not taken any new medications. Besides I am on my way to the ER now. You can meet me there after work or you can meet me as soon as possible. But I am driving straight to the ER right now. Oh, and I did not let Mac know I had left because he was on a conference call with his boss. I love you. I will see you at the ER when you get there.” I ended the phone call.
Fortunately the hospital was only 18 minutes from our house. I relaxed slightly as I was wheeled back into an examination room. Once inside a young nurse assisted with undressing me and putting on a hospital gown. She methodically hooked up the EKG. As she placed the leads on the V3 through V6 left breast area, she spoke reassuringly. “What makes you think this is a heart attack? What were you doing today?” When all the electrodes were attached, she turned away from me to view the EKG readings. It was then she said, “So, what has happened that you are experiencing these pains?” I simply stated, “Life’s troubles.” The nurse probed further with her questioning, “And what are life’s troubles?” Finally my tears began to flow, not in wracking gasping sobs, but in response to the steady stream of pain; both physical and emotional.
Proverbs 13:12 (NIV) “hope deferred makes the heart sick”…. It is at this point where the reader needs to have faith to believe in the supernatural. I had taken no pain reliever at home nor had the hospital given medication to me. However, as the nurse repeated her question, “What are life’s troubles?”, the examination room became a misty gray as if lights begin to dim in an auditorium but do not go completely out. Then I saw a wide dark grey ribbon about three feet in height that encircled ¾ of the room. The ribbon began on the left side of my bed and curled itself along the foot of my bed and ran toward the right hand side. It stopped about a quarter of the way up my bed’s right side. On the strip of ribbon was every trauma I had ever experienced. The images were not in pictures per se nor was there writing on the ribbon, but I perceived the traumas, nonetheless. The first trauma I sensed was when I turned fourteen years old, and my Pop informed me that he had been given three months to live. I wept salty, hot, relentless tears but still I made no sound. The tears puddled on my cheek bone and then ran off saturating my neck’s right side and parts of the hospital gown. My heart recognized the images and the resulting pain seemed to grab my heart. It was when I viewed these images that I heard a voice speak to my spirit, “I got you through these traumas; I will get you through this one.”
Finishing the EKG reading, the nurse, who had turned back to me, noticed my tears. ”We are not allowed to touch you”, she whispered, “But…” She raised her two arms above her head and held them with elbows bent and the palms of her hands pointing toward me. With her fingers almost touching , she moved her arms in a motion that reminded me of the beating of angel wings. “This is me hugging you,” she stated. Just then, my husband stepped into my exam area and the nurse left with the EKG results. He approached me and gave me a hug and a kiss. And then he and I just sat looking at each other; me lying in the bed in a slightly damp hospital gown, and him sitting in a blue plastic chair. Just looking, not speaking. His eyes were asking me a myriad of questions and attempting to reassure me at the same time. We waited for a doctor.
Around seven o’clock a cardiologist stepped into the exam room. The doctor spoke softly and stated the EKG results were inconclusive. He indicated results did show some heart complications, but he could not definitively state whether or not I had had a heart attack. He requested we remain until 10:00 pm and then if another test indicated no additional complications, the doctor would send us home. Although I had not received any medication during the ER visit, my blood pressure, still high, had dropped. I was not experiencing the acid burn to the same extent when I first arrived at the ER. My caution kicked in. If we left at 10:00 pm, I would need to drive myself back to our house and I was already tired. I just wanted to sleep in my own bed. I asked to be released. The cardiologist released us.
When my husband and I returned home, I realized we had not had dinner. I cooked a quick chicken and rice dinner with salad. After cleaning up the dishes I went to bed for an early evening.
For those of you who need an epilogue: A dear friend and “recent editor” had this assessment of my short story. She has known me for years but stated my readers may misinterpret three main points regarding my recanting these events. 1. I have a dry sense of humor – I got this from my Pop. 2. My husband and my children’s relationships are two of God’s greatest gifts. About 15 years into my marriage and after having birthed two beautiful children, I was whining to God about not having received my heart’s desires. “After all, Father, Your word promises as I delight in You that You will give me my heart’s desires. Where are they?...” And in my spirit I heard Him say, “I gave you a husband who loves and honors you. I gave you two children who love and honor you.” I felt ashamed and ecstatic . His word is true, and He did gift me the best desires of my heart. And so, I have attempted to love and support both my husband and my children even when I am tired, or cranky, or hurting. But then again, isn’t that what you do, too? 3. Please do not misunderstand what I am writing. This stoic behavior is engrained in me. This is who I am. I do not expect you to copy my behavior – Heaven forbid - but desire instead for you to share in my experience to possibly enrich your own life.
Remember: May we embark on wisdom’s journey together.