My great heart adventure began nearly three weeks ago on this road, Macmillan Road, where I often walk by myself or with Maria and the dogs. On that Tuesday, I got halfway up this gentle sloping hill when I felt myself out of breath, and I felt some pressure in my chest. I began the usual series of rationalizations: – asthma, allergies, getting old, the heat and humidity.  I couldn’t make it, for the first time. I turned around and walked slowly down the hill.

Some hours later, I could not walk 15 yards on the road across from the farmhouse with Frieda. I had gone to an emergency walk-in clinic a few days earlier with a milder version of those symptoms and the doctor prescribed an inhaler…asthma, we both decided. I love walking, I have walked all my life, I was stricken at the thought walking might be over for me.

But after this walk, which I had taken scores of times, I was troubled – I knew there was something wrong. I e-mailed my nurse practitioner and told her what had happened. “Get in here right now, you big lug,” she messaged and a few hours later, after an EKG,  I was on my way to Glens Falls Hospital, and then, the next morning, to the Albany Medical Center for Open Heart Surgery.

I have been home from the surgery since July 4. Today, my fitbitflex notified me that I have walked 50 miles in that time. But I hadn’t yet tackled Macmillan Road. Maria wouldn’t let me, and I was afraid that I might not make it, that I might still feel that sensation of gasping for air, or that pressure on my upper chest, gasping for air that never came. I was afraid to feel that again. The doctors have told me to walk only on flat ground for short distances, not to strain my heart. So I’ve been walking on flat roads, one or two miles at at a time.  But I have been thinking Macmillan Road every single day, before surgery, after surgery, every morning when I wake up. I was haunted by that road.  Maria kept saying no, it’s too soon. I was dreaming about it.

This morning, when I suggested Macmillan Road, as I have every morning, Maria surprised me by nodding and saying  “sure.” I took a deep breath and was startled at how deeply I could breathe. Before today, it was too painful. I walked in smooth and easy steps right up to the top of that hill and road and right over it, I breathed even and deeply, it was sweet and sound, and I sailed happily and proudly right past the spot where I had to stop three weeks ago and on over the hill, farther than we had ever gone. I told my doctor about Macmillian Road, and he said I was just a walk or two away from dropping dead or suffering a heart attack.

The good news, he said, is that  you are alive.

It felt so good to walk up Macmillan Road, a big step for me, a milestone. I am breathing so much more easily, I was not strained at all taking that walk, I did collapse when I got home and slept for two hours. But this is a day of great steps. I got dressed by myself, even got my socks on, I showered by myself, dried myself off. I am coming back to life becoming human again.

Maria badly needs to get back to work, she suffers greatly when she does not make her art. I am ready also, Monday morning I will be working on another chapter of my next book, and blogging as well. My next task is to figure out all the medicines for myself and then how to shop and resume the cooking chores. I can’t drive for at least two months or lift up any heavy packages – anything more than five lbs. – but there has to be a way. Maybe I can hire somebody to drive me to the market.

I love the steps I took this morning, but the biggest step of all was Macmillan Road. I will be there again in the morning. I am coming back to life, my broken heart has become an angel chorus, cheering me on, giving me the fuel I need to live and love my life.