In the summer of 1969, barely graduated from high school, I suffered a massive heart attack after contracting a virus of the heart lining--a condition known as myocarditis. I had died in my hospital bed and looked down upon the living from a place that we shall all visit one day.
In this blog, just over a month ago, I told the tale of how a loving nurse helped me find the path back to the living. The essay was entitled How Myoko Sakatani Saved My Life. (You can click here to read it).
Years later, when I contacted the hospital where I had spent that eventful summer, I was told that Myoko had moved on. Today, the hospital itself has closed. I felt sad that I never had the opportunity to thank her for all she had done for me.
The blogosphere is an astonishing place. It seems that I average but 25 readers a day, and I have only been here since December. I'm a fleeting tick of a second hand in the digital ether. So you can imagine how I felt this morning when I opened an email, forwarded from my business website, where someone had apparently searched for me. The message read:
"My father emailed me a story about Myoko Sakatani. He contacted Myoko and she said that it was she that was in the story you wrote. Would you like to contact her?"
Use the garbage bins for the garbage bins…
22 hours ago