Graduation day at cardiac rehab

I graduated from cardiac rehab. After 36 sessions, I'm a new man. Call me Bob.

I entered cardiac rehab a shadow of my former self. I had a heart attack at Christmas and congestive heart failure to greet the new year. The docs inserted a stent on Jan. 4, and I was a hospital guest for a week. I started cardiac rehab in late January following several weeks at home of bad TV and bad juju.

I worked my way up from performing a few puny exercises into a super-colossus doing a whole bunch of puny exercises. The nurses and exercise physiologists shouted encouragement at every turn. "Don't hurt yourself with those two-pound barbells!" "You're not supposed to lie down on the treadmill!" Stuff like that.

I now move over to a 12-session regimen at the CRMC Exercise Center. It's staffed by the same nursing staff. Rumor has it that they really make you sweat over there. They use new and ingenious exercise devices to make your heart wake up and smell the coffee. I hear they even have coffee.

But no doughnuts.

Wish me luck.