I walk in alone. The leaves of late fall rest brittle on the ground. I have to watch my step on the uneven terrain. Bare branches pull at my pants and workshirt.
When we arrive at the cardiologist’s office, we are led down the hall to our patient’s room where a 12-lead machine is spitting out an ECG. I can see the ST elevation from the doorway.
I am now a dual citizen. I am just waiting for Dixie McCall to teach me the nurses’s secret handshake and tell me at which Moose Lodge they hold their hotenannies.