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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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