Jul 1 (edited) • Heart Attack Recovery Support
Recovery Starts With Gratitude
There I was, sitting quietly, waiting to be seen just like many patients do. You know how it goes: eventually someone breaks the silence with that classic question, “So, what brings you here?” It’s kind of like being in jail and hearing, “What are you in for?” Except instead of criminal offenses, it's diagnoses.
After I tell my story, there’s always a moment of pause, followed by some version of, “God has plans for you,” or “You’re not finished yet.” Honestly, over the years, I’ve heard this so many times from Cardiologists, Doctors, and Nurses saying that I was a walking miracle that I wanted to scream. I could barely walk, I was short of breath and talking only made it worse. I felt trapped in a crippled body.
One morning, I was enjoying breakfast with my daughter at a Cracker Barrel, a cozy, down-home kind of place, when a woman approached me. “Are you Greg Traver?” she asked. I said yes, wondering what was coming next. She introduced herself, and we got to chatting.
When she was leaving, she asked if we could snap a selfie together. I was happy to oblige. Turns out, she was one of the amazing doctors who cared for me while I was in the cardiac intensive care unit. Naturally, I had zero memory of our previous encounter. Later, I asked my wife who’s an ER nurse why that would happen. She simply said, “You remember the ones who make it. "Their stories you remember when the shifts are hard".
I’ll be honest with you: for a long time, I felt like a vegetable. Months passed before my mind felt like it was finally settling, like all the scattered puzzle pieces were clicking into place and I could think clearly again. Then came the real challenge,
The Darkness of Despair
I quickly realized I wasn’t medically fit to return to my old career. Heck, I wasn’t even qualified to get myself dressed, much less drive anywhere regularly. The frustration was real.
When someone would say, “God has a plan for you,” I’d smile and nod, but secretly entertain myself by imagining giving them a smack upside the head. jk
One evening, I was picking up my daughter from work, and we decided to stop at Barnes & Noble. Wandering through the aisles, I stumbled across a journal that challenged readers to focus on something continuously for 100 days. It seemed harmless enough, so I bought it. The journal sat on my bookshelf for a couple of weeks before I finally cracked it open. Day One’s prompt read, “What am I grateful for?”
I was instantly furious! I threw the book across the room with all the strength I had. It bounced off a shelf, its binding tore, and its cover went all askew. It lay there, battered and ignored, in the corner for days before I even glanced at it again.
My recovery and in many ways, my life, didn’t truly begin until I could honestly say that I was grateful just to be alive. And that gratitude came, first and foremost, because of my incredible wife. She was happy just to have me for another day, and I was grateful for her unwavering love. Only then did I start feeling grateful for life itself. Only then did my recovery officially begin.
© Greg Traver 2025
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Recovery Starts With Gratitude
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Heart Attack, CHF, V-Fib, Widow-Maker, Transplant, whatever, life as you once knew is over. But it's not the end it's a new beginning. Here's How.
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