It’s
that frantic hour. You’ve
put in a full day at work,
battled the crowds at the grocery
store, picked up your three
kids from daycare and just
begun preparing the evening
meal.
The
kids are being. . .well,
typical
kids. “Mom, Billy took
my crayon,” “did
not,” he replies. Above
the clamor you hear a persistent
ringing of the doorbell.
Drying your hands you manage
to make your way to the door
while dodging kids, toys
and coats on the floor.
You open
the door. Your blood runs
cold when you see the state
trooper on the front step.
Before he opens his mouth
to speak, somehow you know.
Panic, fear and grief. .
.gut wrenching grief, as
the adrenaline surges through
your body.
“No,
no, no” you sob as
the officer begins his painful
report. “I am so sorry
Mrs. Jones, but there’s
been an accident. Apparently
your husband had a heart
attack while driving home.
. .is there anyone we can
call?”
In
the blink of an eye your
entire
life is turned upside down.
It isn’t until much
later when it finally sinks
in. After the funeral. After
the friends and family have
all departed and you are
alone. . .totally, utterly
alone.
Glancing
around the kitchen you see
the note on the refrigerator, “Joe,
don’t forget to make
a doctor’s appointment
for a checkup.” Sadly,
he’ll never have the
chance.
Joe
has become a statistic.
He is now one of the 107
million American adults
who had a blood cholesterol
level high enough to require
medical advice. Unfortunately,
he didn’t get the
chance to beat the odds.
Will you?
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