What followed was a series of heart tests to determine the problem. One in particular built on the incident and is only amusing with hindsight.
As I checked-in at the clinic for the treadmill stress test I was asked to sign a waiver, the gist of which was that if I died during the test that it wasn’t their fault and they would not be sued. Although they would make every effort to resuscitate me.
On entering the room the test was being conducted in, I observed little to offer any reassurance. There was an enormous treadmill, a bench; presumably to lay out the corpses of those who don’t complete the test and the menacing hum of a conveniently located defibrillator.
The only thing missing, as I later emerged undefeated, was a disappointed looking undertaker handing me his business card for the 'Happy Ending' funeral parlor and the quip, ‘see you later’.
Medieval art often contains a skull or skeleton to remind the viewer of death. And in a way it’s good to reflect on its inevitability so that our hearts are prepared for it by living lives of faith, adorned with works of mercy. Perhaps especially now in November, we have that chance to reach out to the Holy Souls through our prayers; they were once as we are, and we will soon be as they are …but not yet.
