<font color="blue"> and out of respect for what you wrote, I didn't post. </font>
Uh oh, you should have stuck to your original plans. I'm making a list of everyone who wants to make me cry, and if I don't make it, I'm gonna haunt you all.
OK, where's that icon for deadpan humor? (pun intended).
Seriously, I appreciate all the kind thoughts and well wishes, but I'm also considerably embarrassed by them; I've never been much for having folks fuss over me.
My Dad died in 1955, at age 47, from something almost identical to what happened to me, except that when he fainted and fell, he was on a step ladder and fractured his skull. All I hit was the drivewway and got a gash in my noggin. They discovered the damage to his heart after he died; I was still alive when they found mine.
I'm 64, now, and I consider every day of the almost 17 years that I've lived longer than my Dad to be a gift. I consider every hour since I fainted about 6 weeks ago to be a double gift even though I can't do much with it, and if I actually get a transplant and get back somewhere close to active, I'll feel like I own heaven. If not, I'll probably take over running heaven if there is one and I get there.
In the meantime, please be assured there is no fear on my part, and no real suffering. There is no pain, just an enormous loss of endurance and bouts of dizziness and loss of balance. I have good days and bad days, and on the good days, I've actually been able to drive the short distance over to the property I was remodeling (although I stick to the side roads and drive like an old fart). They're supposed to be (finally) delivering my tractor this morning after the 300 hour service, and I think I'll be able to do some things on it if I'm careful and limit the exertion.
Unfortunately for all of you, even on the bad days it does not affect my verbosity; it just gives me more time to sit here and crank out drivel. Sorry about that...