I like 56. It's a good number. I am not that age yet, which is why I really like it. It represents the one baseball record that will never be broken. And one of the alltime most-colorful Dallas Cowboys wore that number in the 1970s (forget for a moment that Hollywood Henderson would later lose some of his appeal.) 56 is what Heinz 57 was before they found another spice to make it 57, so 56 is good for that reason too.
But most of all -- even more so than because it is a number 10 years more than my age -- 56 represents something called my ejection fraction.
An ejection fraction measures the performance of your heart. For those of you who have had the courage to continue to visit this blog for the last two years or so, you might remember a little episode we endured in '04 and '05 whereby Ye Olde Ticker went somewhat kaput. At its darkest hours, my ejection fraction was 15, as in functioning at only 15 percent. Put another way, 85 percent of the blood my heart pumped in was pooling at the bottom of one of my ventricles and not getting back out into the workforce to do its job. Ony 15 percent of my little corpuscular things were moving product in those dark days.
But after two years of Coreg (a wonder drug ... ask your doctor) I'm back to what my cardio doc calls "the low side of normal," something I have always been, without regard to heart function. Chances are I'll never be completely normal. Hopefully my heart will be again someday.
It's been awhile since I've had some good news to report on the health end, so it's comforting to know that YOT is pulling its weight again.
Now, if we can just find out how come it runs 108 a minute one day and 68 the next, I'd feel even better and more comfortable. Which the health care professionals are working on. They have used some big word called arythmia, I believe. We shall see.
A few more sticky notes to the Lord would be cool, if you don't mind.