The news was good. The angioplasty went well and three of David's arteries were now sporting the latest in cardiac accessories: drug-coated stents that would not only keep his arteries open, they would prevent scar tissue growth that could cause a re-blockage.
The heart god spoke frankly. Without a doubt, we'd been very lucky. Time was critical and, for once, we'd beaten the clock. The blockages were fixed, but they had occurred in an area so precarious, that it was necessary to run a balloon heart-pump through a catheter to take some of the burden away from the heart during the procedure. In order to facilitate healing, this would be left in for at least a day or two.
And there was the matter of David's EF, or ejection fraction number. This is the proportion, or fraction of blood that is pumped out of your heart with each beat. A normal EF is 55 percent, or higher. In the sub-culture of heart disease, this is an important measure. Serious cardiac patients rattle off EF numbers, LDL levels, and blood pressure the way sports fans talk about at-bats and earned runs. David's EF was borderline-acceptable in the low 30s. The goal was to see enough healing to get his EF into the 40s. This would put him squarely in the "normal life" range. Normal Life. The words blinked in front of me like Las Vegas neon. Everything that had seemed even remotely important pre-heart attack became small. All of our plans seemed silly and inconsequential compared to our new true north: a normal life.
12:27:14 PM 
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