The Cath Lab. Sedation. A stent in my heart. This was supposed to be the fix—but it left behind more questions than answers.

This episode dives into that strange in-between: the moment after the heart attack, when you’re alive, but everything feels… off. There’s sarcasm (still intact), paperwork I probably didn’t read, and the first time I hear the words “permanent heart damage.”

Also: what it means when your wife asks for help while you’re still pretending you don’t need it.

Not just about survival—but about the unraveling that follows.

They wheeled me into the cath lab like it was just another routine stop on the hospital circuit. I had no idea what it was—only that it sounded vaguely religious and very clinical. This episode walks through the procedure that saved my life… and the damage it revealed.

I talk about sedation (kinda magical), sarcasm (still fully functional), and what it’s like to wake up with a stent in your heart and a family staring back at you. There’s the expected hospital absurdities—and then there’s the moment when the doctor tells me part of my heart is permanently damaged. That part? I wasn’t ready for.

This isn’t a triumphant comeback story. It’s the part after. The blankness. The unraveling. The quiet dread of wondering what “alive” really means now.

If you’ve ever had your body betray you—or feared what comes after survival—this one’s for you

After the heart attack, life didn’t just go back to normal—it limped, laughed, and stumbled toward something almost like it. In this episode, I take you through my first post-heart-attack vacation (yes, we still went), returning to work (awkward), and starting cardiac rehab (with a side of senior citizens and sarcasm). I talk about rebuilding strength—physically, emotionally, and yes, socially. There’s wine, awkward coworkers, and a disloyal dog. It’s messy, it’s real… and it’s recovery, with some bumps.

I try to reassemble the pieces of my life after my heart attack — one cardiac rehab session, one improv class, one job interview at a time. This episode is about recovery in motion: not the clean, triumphant kind, but the messy, reluctant, often absurd version where you’re icing your chest while refreshing LinkedIn.

Beaten by life. Still beating.

After surviving a heart attack, I figured the worst was behind me. Then a doctor walks in and tells me I have a leaky heart valve—from birth. Congenital, he says. Casual, like he’s pointing out a flat tire. Suddenly I’ve leveled up from cardiologist to cardiothoracic surgeon.

This episode walks through the post-op fog, the morphine haze, the surreal hallway “exercise,” and the moment you realize your body isn’t just hurting—it’s permanently changed. Also featuring: Tamil in a hospital hallway, a dignified hospital discharge (in a wheelchair), and a return home that felt anything but normal.

Oh, and somewhere in there—I remembered to ask if we canceled the Airbnb.

Cardiac rehab was done. A new job had started. And I turned fifty.

This episode covers the messy in-between: adjusting to meds, proving myself at work, battling new-job anxiety, and trying to feel normal again over the holidays. I talk about my 50th birthday party (complete with a dad compliment and a friend roast), my lifelong obsession with Alabama football, and the bucket-list championship game that didn’t go as planned.

It’s an episode about expectations, disappointments, second chances… and remembering that just being alive to watch your team lose is still a kind of win.

The hours after my heart attack were a blur of sirens, shaved body parts, and stripped pride. In this episode, I recount the surreal chaos of the ER—where I went from family man to medical case file in seconds. Nurses, needles, a backless gown, and a groin-access surprise were just the beginning.

And yes… I actually called my boss and asked my wife to cancel our Airbnb booking while hooked up to monitors.

This is what happens when your body crashes but your brain keeps trying to manage the calendar.

Beaten by life. Still beating.

New job. National sales kickoff. Toastmasters win.

Everything was finally starting to feel normal again—until it wasn’t.

In this episode, I navigate the highs and hidden struggles of post-heart-attack life: imposter syndrome, medication fog, jury duty guilt, and the return to public speaking.

Then, on the night of a big speech competition, just as the words “Roll Tide Roll” leave my mouth… my body shuts down.

Because sometimes, life lets you rebuild—just long enough to knock you over again.

One minute I was delivering a speech about Alabama football.

The next, I was on the floor — blue, pulseless, and unconscious.

In this episode, my voice fades and others take over: my wife, my friends, and the strangers who tried to bring me back.

Five shocks. Thirty minutes without an ambulance.

A church with no defibrillator.

And somehow, I’m still here to tell it.

It’s the night Toastmasters turned into a trauma ward — and survival became my most unexpected performance yet.

I thought it was the laptop bag. Or the seafood. Or maybe just stress.

It wasn’t.

This is the story of the day I had a heart attack—and didn’t realize it until it was nearly too late. Mid-July, a work offsite, some bad shellfish (maybe), and a slow-motion collapse I tried to laugh off with Coke and denial.

I take you through the whole thing: the symptoms I ignored, the EMS ride I weirdly enjoyed, and the quiet moment I realized I might not make it back to my daughters.

No medals. No triumph. Just baby aspirin, bad decisions, and the beginning of what I now call Strike One.

Dark humor. Honest reflection. And the start of a very unexpected trilogy.