Joe

Heart Surgery is usually associated with being overweight. The instructions I was given when I was released from the hospital warn of the dire consequences of rapid weight gain after surgery. I wish I had that problem, I could be mistaken for a lamppost. As part of normal hospital procedure a nutritionist visited me just before I was released from the hospital to coach me on a low-fat diet. She weighed more than me. Even the hospital doesn't seem to know what to do with a skinny heart patient.

Lewis Grizzard often commented about how skinny he was. He claims to have been 160 pounds and 6' 1” tall. That's 3inches taller than me. Most of my adult life I've been just a shade under 150. I don't have data to back this up, but I suspect that Lewis and I are the two skinniest guys to ever have heart surgery. At least Lewis had a benefit to his defective valve – it kept him out of Vietnam.

One guy who has never been called skinny is my friend Joe Edenfield. Joe is on the other end of the spectrum. Two guys the size of Lewis and I could play cards behind Joe and no one would know we were there. Joe came by for a visit today. I don't think there is medicine any better than a long chat with an old friend on a warm day. I've known Joe since elementary school. In high school we were on the wrestling team together. Wrestlers compete in ascending order of weight class, I went first – Joe last. Joe said that if Endocarditis had attacked him his body would have assumed the bacteria was calories and he would have gained 40 pounds.

In 7^th grade gym class the coach had us get into two lines and run the 50-yard-dash. Seeing that I was lined-up beside Joe, I figured I had an easy win. To my surprise I learned that some big guys can be quite explosive and move pretty fast over a short distance. I spent the rest of that day and most of the next being taunted by classmates. I had been beaten by the guy the gym teacher had nicknamed – Harpoon. The night before my brother David's 2005 wedding a group of old friends were drinking beer and smoking cigars. I challenged Joe to a rematch of that race 33 years ago. I'm pretty sure I could have taken him. Fortunately, Joe's too smart (and the most sober one there) so we didn't end up making fools of ourselves that night.

In school the fat kids get taunted mercilessly. I don't know how, but Joe always kept his cool. Well except for one incident when a classmate got a well deserved swirly in the boys room, Joe got the best kind of revenge, he ignored the taunters, accepted what genetics had dealt him, and went on to live an exemplary life. He's a successful IT professional with a lovely wife and family. I admire him and glad to call him a friend. Although, I was disappointed that today I was unable to accept his challenge to rerun the 50-yard-dash.

My point in all this is that a few months ago no one looking at the two of us would have believed that Joe would be visiting me after heart surgery, the other way around would have seemed more likely. I could let myself get depressed and ask, why me? But I'd rather follow Joe's example. Genetics set me up with that defective valve, the bacteria did the dirty work. It was all just a roll of the dice. I hope I handle my setback with the same attitude Joe always has.