On July 29th, 2008, I was 34 years old. I was an active mountain biker, going for long rides at least twice a week. Playing at, and trying to get back to being a strong rock climber. I had a job as geologist that afforded me opportunities to travel and work outside. While certainly no where near an alcoholic I was certainly on the road to being an oenophile, and along with that I'd developed an appreciation for fine dining. I ran a few miles a couple times a week, and visited an excellent personal trainer at least once a week. I had a wonderful girlfriend and slowly expanding circle of friends. I was very happy with my life, despite the fact that gas was around $4.50 a gallon.
On the night of July 30th, all of the changed. I'd went on super fun bike ride with my friends Nick and Matt and just finished dinner at Nick's house. I had to leave the dinner table because I wasn't feeling well. What followed was 2 hours of excruciating chest pain. Two hours where I desperately tried to simultaneously will the pain away and ignore the radiating pain down my left arm. Finally after making back to our house, I agreed to let Wendy call an ambulance. The EMTs gave me oxygen and determined after only a couple minutes that I needed to go the hospital. I remember the ride in the ambulance, the EMTs giving me aspirin and nitroglycerin (definitely not a good sign). I remember arriving at Huntington Memorial Hospital in Pasadena. I remember being wheeled into the ER. Here is where my world went black. But not really black. What followed was an endless stream of nightmares. Bad dreams that I never thought would end. I can't and won't go into these here, unfortunately they are mine to keep. This is the beginning of the fight of and for my life. A fight I've won, so far, and one that has been by far, the hardest thing I have ever done.
