Heartbeat

Most of the time, I don't even notice it - that's because it's working correctly, more or less. Occasionally, there's a flutter, some confusion in my chest cavity, right behind my sternum, and I put my right hand to my chest, over my heart, a salute like I'm saying the Pledge or watching the flag raise while listening to the Star Spangled Banner. I can't feel it with my hand, but I can feel it inside my chest, wobbling around, a spasm. I don't know what it means, it only lasts a second and it's gone, no ill effects remain, and I pretend it isn't there, like it will go away. My dad's problem didn't go away, and eventually his valves became leaky sieves, his labored heart only pumping 10% of the blood needed by the rest of his body. He was cold and tired all the time, and finally decided to have the surgery. A crusty old veteran talked him into it - I no longer remember the guy's name, he was a golfing buddy of my dad's, probably the Korean war and a smoker, now tubed up to an oxygen tank, but had a handshake that said, "I can still kick your ass, even though I have one foot in the grave. We didn't screw around back then, men were men; you kids nowadays, you're just a bunch of pussies and pantie-waists." He came through the valve replacement surgery intact, and convinced my dad to do the same. My dad didn't make it; post-op he was drowning in his own blood, not able to hang around long enough to heal and realize the benefit of new heart valves. The heartbeats finally ran out, stopped, nice and quiet now after 67 years of relentless pounding and thumping. Done.

Milestone note: this is the 100th post to Rhubarb Ranch.