I never imagined I'd be the kind of man who'd have to write "heart surgery" next to his name. I was 54, reasonably active, worked a desk job, ate home-cooked food most days — the kind of person who assumed heart problems happened to "other people." I was wrong, and this is the story of how I found that out the hard way.
It Started Quietly
Looking back, the signs were there for months...
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