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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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