A miracle is an effect or extraordinary event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a natural cause. Such an effect or event might manifest itself to some people as a work of God.

One dictionary defines “miracle” as a wonderful or surpassing example of some quality, as in a miracle of modern acoustics. Or a miracle of modern science.

I experienced a miracle this morning.

I am well acquainted with the miracles of medicine, as several have kept me alive much longer than would have been the case even 15 or 20 years ago.

Maria’s appearance in the tiny hamlet of Hebron N.Y., where my first farm was located, was a miracle. It was the last place I expected to find a partner in life.

In a sense, I am a miracle. Wouldn’t it be nice if I were a manifestation of God? (Not yet).

I know the advances in heart medicine; I’ve read about them and lived them. My catheter “procedure” or “intervention” was one such miracle. So was open heart surgery, for that matter.

But Thursdays’ intervention was special. I saw my artery and heart come to life. My worldview changed.

I had another miracle this morning, I think,  when Maria and I got up early so, we could walk together on the nearby hilly country road that has long served as a barometer of my heart health.

I remember not being able to walk up that hill at all – it’s about a mile – six years ago before my heart attack and open surgery. I remember not being able to walk up that hill comfortable and without chest pain for most of the past year.

I always know how I am by how easily or painfully it is to walk up this beautiful hill.

Two weeks ago, after my first catheterization, I was able to walk up the hill. I did well, it was better, but I was out of breath at the top, and I was sweating. It wasn’t easy.

This morning, I sailed up the hill like a Man O’War in the British Royal Navy, setting out to battle the Spanish Fleet. Maria and I looked at one another, smiling and shaking our heads in disbelief.

“Wow,” she said, “I can feel this new energy coming right off of you.”

I walked at a fast pace.

I had plenty of energy left; I didn’t need to stop, take a breath, or wait for my heart to calm down. Maria always slowed down to match my pace, this morning I was walking as fast as she was, sometimes even faster.

When I got to the top, I had plenty of energy left over and kicked into a higher gear.

I went to the top and then some. I would say I had about 30 percent more blood coming into my heart than I did last Wednesday. And it is very different.

And when I got home, I had to lie down for two hours; I was so tired. Remember, said the doctor, you’ll feel better, but you’re not 25 years old. I forgot.

In the morning, another test, possibly another round. I am getting an ultrasound because my doctors realized I had never had my carotid veins in the neck tested.

The odds are they might be blocked as well, so we’ll see. Several people said they were praying that I didn’t need another cardio procedure.

But that seemed wrong to me. I am learning that the better care I  take of myself, the better I will feel, and the longer I will live productively.

I would happily underdo this additional procedure if it helped complete the repair work on my heart. And I would consider myself fortunate to have the chance.