Sometimes I’ll put on a shirt and look in the mirror or ask Penny if it looks ok, if it shows too much of my scar on my chest. I don't want to freak myself out along with anybody else. I still wear my yoga shorts, though, and don’t mind the scar down my leg so much, other than the numbness. I still try to be discreet with it, but it’s Florida and hot, you know.

Once in a while, including today, I get asked if I had anything like a near-death experience. I didn’t, not really, not classically. No more than other days.

On the other hand.… One day when I was finally able to get out of bed, Penny was helping me with my gown and she said, “What are these marks on your back and side?”

We mentioned it to the doctor and he said it was probably from the defibrillator pads. That’s when it kind of hit me. Damn. Burn marks, in a rectangular like shape, rather than incision scars. And that’s why my shoulder looks the way it does, too. A pad was there.

Three times, I coded. Three times I went under. I had talked to Penny on the phone shortly before it happened and told her they were about to do some kind of procedure and I’d call her later. That was almost it. The next call she received was them telling her I’d coded. When she got to the hospital, she saw me and thought I was gone. A doctor told her I was very sedated, and then she saw the monitor and saw my heart beating. My near-death experience was hers. Unimaginable, almost. Rather than watching it from above myself, I learned of much of it later from Penny.

Some things imprint your consciousness, your body. Perhaps a yoga word for that is mudra. A shape or form, a gesture. A reminder. A sign of life. A sign of luck. An invitation to more.