We're all immortal, right?

Well, when we're young, we're all immortal, right? We're all six foot tall and bulletproof. FTW!

I was lucky .. I guess I have what you'd call a "muscular" physique. Certainly, when I was younger that was the case: 32" hips, 40" chest ...

Smoking? Might affect other people, but not me. Started at 15 ... hit 70 a day for brief while in the late 70s (Winston tastes good like a cigarette should) -- no cough, no wheeze; what's the problem?

Then, in the late 90s, I gave up. It was bloody hard. I was saying goodbye to my best friend. Why did I do it. Two reasons: (a) I was becoming paranoid with every cigarette I lit; and (b) my dearly beloved said if I gave up she'd buy me the new target rifle I lusted after.

So, 22 September 1995, at 12.30 pm, I flicked my last ciggie into the gutter at the gunshop. It was pouring rain. Suited my mood.

I got the rifle and something else: chronic indigestion. For near on five years I battled it, quaffing Gaviscon like cheap wine. Going for a walk meant pausing, often, until I could get rid of the huge belch that gave me relief. The pain would run up my armpits and into my lower jaw. My doctor, against his better judgment but at my insistence, put me on Nexium ... it helped.

Then, one weekend, driving down south, I had to pull the car over. We'd only driven for an hour, and I'd drunk the best part of a bottle of Gaviscon ... and it wasn't working. Back home, a few weeks later, I got this really strange chest pain late at night. For some reason, I got out of bed and into a hot shower. Kneeling on my hands and knees, it felt better. But still wrong.

Dearly Beloved wasted no time getting me into the car and into hospital. Blood pressure was 200/120. They tried to get a drip into my ankle ... both ankles .. and were just about to do a cut-down when she managed to get it in.

Spent a week in the cardiac ward .... remember I haven't been in hospital for anything actually wrong since I was five!! Colour ultrasound, MRI and some nuclear thingo ... nothing. They called me "Mr Mystery Man". Sent me home at the end of the week with "Nothing wrong with his heart".

My GP, bless him, STILL wasn't convinced. (Thanks, Darryl ... I owe you everything.) Sent me for a radioactive stress test. Yeah, yeah, I did it... went back to work ... and got the phone call from Darryl ... "Get in here, NOW". The only words I remember from his phone call were "gross irregularities".

Angiogram -- Melbourne Cup Day -- and I insisted on calling back into work for the lunch, even though we knew by then that surgery was inevitable. You see, that "indigestion" was acute angina ... and I could have ... literally ... dropped dead at any time.

Woke up two weeks later from a triple arterial bypass in ICU. My wife and girls were there. I'm sorry for putting them through all that. Thing is, I never, for one instant, thought I wouldn't come sailing through the other side. They weren't quite as sanguine.

I found out later, it wasn't all lifestyle (smoking) although that didn't help. Genetically, I have some narrow blood vessels leading into my heart. "Your mother's fault", said my surgeon. I went and smacked Mum. (No, of course I didn't ... but it helped to know that.)

Two days later and morphine is gone .. best I can get is Panadol Forte. THEN I find out I can have a glass of red wine with my evening meal ... true; it's prescribed! It arrives with a sheet of clingwrap over the top. It is, I'm sure, "Chateau Cardboard", but the first mouthful brings tears to my eyes ... I'm back in the real world and it's the best wine I've ever tasted. My wife asks for a mouthful ... she gets HALF a mouthful!

Home again after 7 days and I start walking ... each day I get stronger Another week and I go back to wotk ... half-time for the first week.

NOW ... I've been working with weights; I walk at least 45 minutes ... at "brisk" pace ... every day; I ride and heave around a 400 kg (fully loaded, two-up) BMW touring motorcycle. Dearly Beloved and I have done several overseas tours, including a two-week, 5115 km motorcycle tour of the N-W USA. I'm going back to do another, similar, tour this July.

I had a colonoscopy today. I loathe them. BUT, there was no sign of cancer and I'm free again for another few years.

Yes, I'm mortal ... but by God I'm going to enjoy the time I do have left!!