@rosemarya Rosemary, I am a glass for all to see through so share I shall. "The call" came on Sunday afternoon, December 29 at around 4:00 PM. The call center said that I would be shocked as I was only on the waiting list for three days and if I did not take the heart it would be wasted. As a B+ blood type there were four people in front of me and the first choice was out of town, the second accepted but was too flustered so called back to deny, and the other two gentlemen were not the best fit due to size issues and other considerations. My wife was running errands and so I called her assuring her this was not a joke (I have a tendency to kid, tease, prank; etc). Luckily she was only 10 minutes from home. After harried undisciplined packing, we made the two hour journey from the Tucson area with the intent to go into surgery immediately but on arrival at 7:00 PM we learned that the donor's family wanted one more night and that the surgery would be in the morning. I remember nothing about Monday December 30, the day of surgery, other than early morning prep and chatting up the team in the OR which is when they promptly put me to sleep.. I did wake up on Tuesday morning, December 31 and hence the Freddie Jones Band song, Tuesday Morning, is one of my jams. (Tuesday morning, never looked so good.)

I just remember the day I walked into Mayo in early November of 2019 with a death sentence over my head and leaving with a sense of hope. And then waking that Tuesday morning with the sense of hope fulfilled.